Day 4: Ahmedabad

This is one city that re-wrote my perceptions about Gujarat. It is a city that I associate with dreams – seen but await realisation & a lot more in the past that cannot be realised now. Alas...This was not how I wished to know Amdavad, but it was a good beginning I must say. Any place – becomes dear to one when it is associated with people (or things) that one loves. Like one’s home, a bend in the road, the beachside deck, a playground, probably the second-row last bench in class, or even the corner seat in a theatre – even if the place isn’t as big as a city, these places do have their momentous appeal. Sometimes it is puzzling when you psychologically connect with a place, without actually being there – almost like reading Harry Potter and knowing Hogwarts like the back of your hand. Such is the imagery that people, books and photographs are capable of creating – and I’ve been at the receiving end of all this. We reached Ahmedabad in the wee hours of the morning – and I told myself with every step – that this is where the best brains in design & management in the country come from – NID, CEPT & IIM.

Well, I was really excited – that even in a moving auto rickshaw at 5 AM in the morning – my head kept popping out to see familiar buildings – typical gawaar types (added to the fact that we were jam-packed inside with luggage...) Hotel Peace, that too in Gandhi’s home state – was an interesting coincidence. It was situated right across the Sabarmati – the river that divides the city into new & old, superficially. That early in the morning - the bed was tempting, but there’s nothing like a heritage walk into the old city, in the midst of the morning hustle & bustle – thought a few of us. So we got on our feet – passing thro’ the Jamalpur market towards the Darwaza, into the Gaekwad Ni Haveli grounds and ending at the Kankaria Lake.

The slice of life that we saw all along (...easily 5-6 km), being part of someone else’s life for a tiny, fleeting moment; was a truly, unique experience. I mean to say... that in an alien city as passers-by, meeting people as a consequence of their routine life, interacting with them based on this anonymity & parting ways; never to see them again – reminded me of Tagore’s verse.

“I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes....”

The policemen at the Darwaza, the auto-driver & his unique philosophy, the Parsee uncle and his directionlessness, the exercise enthusiasts, the laughter club maniacs, the chai-wala – and the occasional lafangey were our companions. This could happen anywhere, I agree...but passing thro’ so many layers at the start of the day – my receptivity was at its peak.

Back at the hotel, I found this nice quite spot in our 3^rd-floor room, beside a large window that opened out to an awesome ‘on-the-ground’ view of the Jamalpur flyover & the Calico Mill. It felt like being at two places at once – the bustling people’s market below & the automobiles flying above... I could sit there for hours together (which being right next to the AC...!) looking at the muted landscape beyond the glass pane.