The next few weeks were strictly not part of my sabbatical programme for it was a holiday along with my family, with snakes and frogs and fish left far behind. Our holiday included a brief visit to Ahmedabad where we stayed with Korah and Sue Mathen. I had met Korah and his daughter Nidhi a few months earlier at the organic farmers' meeting in Wynad. On knowing that there was a snake park in Ahmedabad we simply had to visit the place, just to satisfy my curiosity. At the park, we found pythons, Russel's vipers, kraits, chequered keelbacks, boas, ratsnakes and a king cobra, all in glass cages. The park also had starback tortoises, monitor lizards, ducks and geese of various kinds, monkeys and other small animals. There was also a small aquarium, kept very poorly. I don't know whether the whole setup was run down because of lack of funds or lack of interest.
From Ahmedabad we went by train to Jaipur where we spent the next eight days at the home of Srilata and Mahendra Chowdhury. Although our base was Jaipur we visited and stayed two nights at a real fort, on the outskirts of Jaipur. It was my first visit to a fort and it was quite an experience living high up in the residential part of the fort with its cool rooms, some large, others tiny, some corridors so narrow and so low one had to bend one's head to walk through. The time of our visit coincided with the famous solar eclipse which was the talk of the town but I was disappointed with the eclipse as it darkened only briefly before returning to normal again. My friends told me later that the TV experience was far more wonderful.
In Jaipur we went sightseeing almost everyday, visiting forts, palaces and shopping bazaars, and had delicious kulfi and lassi in mud pots, and mouth-watering chicken tandoori. We drove down to Udaipur, where we went boating on the famous lake, saw some more palaces and then to Srilata and Mahendra's second home in Ghantali where we swam in the river behind the house and fished with the village boys.
The vacation ended with a 3 hour bus journey to Ratlam station, from where my brothers and I returned to Mumbai with my mum while my dad went on to Delhi. This time we stayed at my maternal grandparents' place in Mahim. My grandfather, a sprightly 86 year old and a very active gentleman, was there to greet us. It happened to be his birthday and he decided to take us all out to dinner to a Chinese restaurant not very far away from the house. I recall we were all dressed and ready to go when Mum asked Grandpapa how we were going to the restaurant. To which he said: "You and the boys take a taxi, but I will walk. I prefer to walk." I was quite astonished. Of course, we all decided instead to walk to the restaurant, with Grandpapa briskly leading the way, and had an enjoyable birthday dinner.
My mum and my two younger brothers, Sameer and Milind returned to Goa soon thereafter, but I stayed on with Grandpapa in Mumbai for a few more days, since I was to proceed from there directly to Chennai where I would spend the next two and a half months in the pleasant company of spiders, earthworms and my all-time favourites, crocodiles and snakes.
Chapter 8: Earthworms
On the 6th of November, I was put on the Chennai Express, which was to leave Dadar Railway station at 7 p.m., by my Uncle Alan who is very knowledgeable about trains since he has worked in the railways all his working life. My mum had requested him to check my departure from Mumbai since Dadar railway station is a crowded and busy place and I too was not confident of finding my way around. Earlier Grandpapa had brought me to the railway station by cab after making me double-check that I had my ticket, sufficient cash, little tidbits to eat and my water bottle filled for the long journey ahead.
I was to spend one night and the whole of the next day in the train for it was due to arrive in Chennai at about 8.30 p.m. on the 7th. Having travelled on a couple of journeys by train during the past few months I was quite relaxed on this one although I continued to be watchful and careful of my things throughout.
The train journey from Mumbai was entirely uneventful. I had a window seat and slept the night on the lower berth. Around me was a family of migrant workers who spoke neither Hindi nor English and who were quite busy doing their own things. I did not speak with them nor with anyone else on the journey but contented myself with watching the countryside we passed through and the hustle and bustle at each station, and when I was bored I just went to sleep. I had about Rs.500 with me in cash and some of this was carefully tucked away in different pockets of my jeans, the balance in various compartments of the haversack. When I slept the haversack was my pillow. I also carried a water bottle, some snacks and some fruit which was all I ate during the journey.
The train was delayed by 3 hours and it was well past 11.30 p.m. when it arrived at Chennai Central railway station. I was to be met at the station by my parents' long-time friend K. Manoharan. Uncle Mano and Aunty Sagu had willingly agreed to look after me during my stay in Chennai, even though both of them were not keeping good health. Not knowing where exactly Uncle Mano would be waiting I walked towards the entrance keeping a careful lookout for him. Yet, I failed to recognise him when I saw him for his hair was whiter than when I had seen him last. He recognised me, however, from the bright yellow haversack that I carried. He took me home in a rickshaw. I had some food there and went straight off to sleep. Uncle Mano suggested that I relax the next day, which I did, watching T.V., looking at photo albums and generally chatting with them about my sabbatical so far and about my plans in Chennai.