Solitude. Something that was abundant in childhood. Now I am helpless because it is hard to come by and twice as elusive if you wish to seek it. There are times and then there are places. We travel across them to find solace. But fellow travelers travel for reasons. For them travel is the mindless boredom till destination. Something to be filled with the routine of everyday. Mobile phone speakers blare out songs. Kids with their plastic mobiles that croaks the same tune no matter which button is depressed. Laptops with movies and movies with endless background scores. Life no longer a single track audio. Each track playing over another. Stacking noise, creating composite commotion.

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Katti to katti, bara baje batti’. Kids, especially in Mumbai, could not have escaped this rhyme. Be it the local neighbourhood or school playground, it was too catchy to go unrecited. ‘Katti’ and ‘batti’ are terms indicative of the intent of affection towards a friend. Katti meant that it’s sour and declaring batti indicated all is well. An approximate translation of the rhyme in English would read ‘If sour be sour, come noon it be fine’. Relationships are that easy to manage for kids. Even in dour times, noon was the constant hour of hope.

Uncomplicated bonds

Growing up escalates complications proportionately. Perspectives change gradually. While as kids the purpose of tarred roads were for riding bicycle or playing cricket or marbles now it’s a means to reach some place. Home was a shelter, now it’s treated as a sanctuary. Trains and buses were fun on wheels, now it’s a choice topic for gripe. Objects are perceived in significantly derivative and segregated purposes then their original intent. This is apparent in the story of any urban neighbourhood with a worthwhile history.

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