Walking you through my roots?

Who else expected me to come out with a blog post about my trip to my native place after such a long break? Well, here it is and trust me, it’s been all about the emotions from the mesh detangling.

Let’s start with the journey itself. It’s usually a bus ride for us, but this time we decided to take the train and by the book, I think that was the best decision we could’ve made. Reaching Tirunelveli bus stand in the early morning, grabbing a hot cup of coffee and a crisp vada from the tiny shop there. Ah, nothing else comes close to that simple bliss.

Homecoming used to mean a house overrunning with relatives and cousins, laughter echoing through every corner and painting the town red. This year, it was fainting. That’s when I got to the picture of life moving too fast. We’ve all scattered across different cities, living in our own worlds. Part of me just wants to rewind time, to those childhood days of running around with my cousins completely nonchalant. 

Visiting the place where my parents grew up and completed their UG studies was overwhelming in the best way. Listening to their stories now, this time with better understanding and felt deeply grounding. People there hold my parents in such high regard, and I finally see why. They’ve built relationships, earned love, and gained respect that they truly deserve. I honestly wonder if I could ever live up to even 30% of who they were back then.

And then there’s the Agraharam streets, have you ever walked through one? They’re something else. Here, you can knock on any door, introduce yourself as so-and-so’s daughter, and be welcomed like family. These people are pure gems, the kind you’d rarely find in today’s cities. The warmth, the trust, the old-world charm! It’s something words can barely capture.