He finally alighted from the Mettupalayam Express.

It had been a two-hour journey from

Coimbatore. He had been surrounded by the cacophony of children, the banter of vendors and
noises of enthusiastic tourists. Now as he stood on the quaint platform of Lovedale Station, all he
could hear was the sound of his own breath. The train has left for Ooty two minutes ago, but he was
still standing where he had set his foot first. He was wondering to himself as to why did he choose to
stay at Lovedale, a small hill-station when he could have easily chosen one of the most luxurious
hotel in the Queen of Hills, Ooty.

The only movement he could spot was of the station master walking back into his twelve square feet
office. He decided to finally take a step and move ahead with this unplanned endeavour. As he
exited the tiny station he spotted a local on a bicycle, “Perhaps the best mode of transportation
here,” he thought to himself. He inquired about places for bed and breakfast. The local smilingly
suggested a Government guest house as the only worth staying place around. He asked for the
directions to the guest house and learnt it was around two kilometres from the station. It was three
in the afternoon and he was eager to have some freshly brewed Nilgiri coffee. He thought it would
be better to dump his bag in the guest house room and decided to walk to the guest house, not that
there was a transportation option available. He started walking uphill and on the way saw some
children playing with a bicycle tyres and a stick. This must be one of their past times he thought
unlike his nephews who loved to play on their Play stations. . He offered the children some sweets
he’d carried and they accepted them shyly.

It had been twenty five years since his existence in the city but he always wished to have lived in a
small town. Yes, he did like the facilities and the ease of living in the city, but he had always been
intrigued by small towns and the live within them. The tall trees swayed as though they could hear
his thoughts and they happily offered him some company. He reached the guest house and found
that it was a tiny little guest house with around five guest rooms. It was small but clean and had a
very homely vibe to it. There was an old man around sixty years old sitting at the reception area,
filling the guest house register. After completing the formalities in no time he was led to a small little
room with two beds covered with fresh linen. The room had the good old shahbadi flooring not
seen in homes anymore. The thought of having a short nap tempted him but he decided not to.
Probably the desire of having a cuppa was stronger than that of sleep.

After freshening up he went to the reception, handed over the room keys to the old uncle with a
smile and headed out of the quaint guest house. He took the same way out, passed by the
mysterious little railway station and walked towards the other direction. Slowly he started seeing a
few people on the road which was a welcome change. Small little shops started appearing –
homemade chocolate shops, tea shops, general stores et all. He saw a small café which had a board
hanging that read, ‘Nilgiri’s best tea/coffee’. He decided to trust the board and entered the café.
Asking for a cup of coffee he was just about to sit when his phone rang. It was probably a call from
office he thought, “Oh such a pity, probably the only low point of today,” he thought to himself.
When he looked at phone it turned out to be his mother’s call, he heaved a sigh of relief and
answered the call.

“Yes ma” he answered. “Kunal, have you forgotten us already?” came his mother’s voice.

“You said you would call me once you reach and let us know about your whereabouts!”

“Ma, will you let me explain please,” said Kunal calmly. “I am currently at Lovedale and having some
coffee.”

“Lovedal! I thought you were going to Ooty!” “What are you doing there and did you have lunch?”
Mother sounded shocked and concerned two things which were dangerous when it came to
mothers.

He had to lie and said, “Yes ma, I had lunch long time ago and I am in Lovedale because I wanted to
click pictures. You know I like photography.”

“Yes, yes, the world knows you like pictures, because you only click pictures of strangers and strange
things, “she said mockingly.

“Mom, enough with your interrogation sessions and yes I did get the taunt. Now, I will call you at
night or tomorrow morning. But I will. “You take care and tell dad that I’m fine, ok?”

“Alright, then you call me, I won’t. Oh I almost forgot; get some chocolate tea and some chocolates
for mama and mami as well. By the way, Sunita aunty was asking about Rashi, have you thought
about it?”

“Ma please! I don’t want to think about it right now! Plus I have hardly spoken to her. Ok now
seriously, I’m going to keep the phone. Bye ma, love you!”

“Phew,” he said to himself. The conversation with mom was like a sudden stir in a still glass of water.
His coffee was on the table already; he finished it in no time and asked for another cup. He sipped
the coffee and took out his camera from the bag and started attaching the lens. His eyes gazed
outside the café and he looked at a young boy carrying a bundle of clothes, sarees probably. Behind
him was a woman carrying equal quantities of sarees in her delicate arms. She looked at him for a
moment and looked away. Kunal realised he was staring and turned his gaze back at his camera.

Kunal walked out of the café and started his stroll on the little street leading to the market. He
clicked pictures of the little shops, children passing by and the beautiful flora around. There were tea
shops around and he remembered what his mother had asked to bring. “If I forget these I will be
dead when I get home,” he thought to himself. Relieved after his purchases, he was about to keep
the tea in his bag when his eyes fell on a shop. It was well lit and was very colourful. The colours
attracted him towards the shop. It was decorated with ethnic artefacts; they looked quite traditional
to him. Suddenly he saw the same lady appear in the shop. He wondered if she was the owner of the
shop. She looked very young to be the owner. He kept looking at her and decided to walk into the
shop, as though it was an involuntary process, as though it was natural of him to go there.

“Yes?” the lady asked.

“I was just looking around,” he said.

“Ok,” she said smilingly.

“Do you have any sarees?” he asked.

“Umm, no we don’t. Actually we have things made by Toda tribe. They are the locals out here and
they make the things that you see around.”

“Oh,” he said.

“We do have shawls if you are interested,” she said.

“That would be great as well,” he said.

He was impressed by the way she spoke. Her English was devoid of any southern accent and she
seemed extremely confident. She removed some shawls from the rack below. He noticed they were
thick and were pre-dominantly black, red and white in colour. They looked very beautiful, he
purchased two of them.

After making the payment he asked, “Do you mind if I click some pictures?” pointing towards his
camera.

“Ok,” she said giving almost no expression.

Kunal clicked some pictures of the things around and got some good clicks. He tried to zoom in on
the lady’s hands as he had noticed lovely bangles she was wearing. “What was a lady like her doing
in a small town like this?” he thought to himself. He quietly and smartly clicked a picture of her,
without coming to her notice. Very pleased with himself, he smiled at her and walked out of the
shop. She looked at him as he walked out and suddenly a young boy called out, “Nandita didi!”

Kunal turned around in a split of a second and he smiled to himself. Never had he felt so alive,
suddenly he couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t realise how the rest of the day went by. He hadn’t felt
so carefree in years. He joined the children playing gully cricket. The unplanned day ended in the
most unbelievable way possible…

The next day he woke early went for a jog and after a simple but tasty breakfast of idlis and sambhar
prepared by the caretaker’s wife, he left for the market.

He was right outside Nandita’s shop when his phone rang. It was his mother again.

“Good morning ma!” he said.

“You sound so lively! Everything ok?” she said mockingly, yet again.

“All is fine, I was just about to cal you.”

“Ya ya, I know you were about to call but you couldn’t,” mother said.

“So when are you planning to return?” she asked.

Kunal looked at Nandita from across the street, looked at her dimples and the kohl under her eyes
and said, “It’s going to take quite some time now…”.