Thank You, Aurangabad.

Everybody has a chapter that they don’t read to anyone. My equation with my dad is that chapter of my life. A few people close to me know it in bits and pieces. I haven’t ever read it completely to anyone.

But it wasn’t always bitter. Sixteen years ago the equation was different when we had been on a family trip to Aurangabad. We had visited Daulatabad Fort, Ajantha-Ellora Caves and many other spots around these places.

Daulatabad is an intellectual marvel, while Ellora and Ajantha Caves are like time machines. These caves will drive you back in time with an aura of amazement. Yet I feel, I can never have the right descriptive words to express the grandeur of Aurangabad. Also, thanks to the memory of sixteen years ago, Aurangabad will always be one of my favourite place to be.

I applied for my Saturday’s leave for this trip two Mondays back as I dearly needed a break. A break from living the chapter with my dad and also a break from walking through my work life like a doubtful drunkard. All I wanted was to just be me, be happy. That’s exactly what the superpowers made me feel over the two days – joyous.

Our Friday night bus journey to Aurangabad began an hour late. I bonded over music with one of my dear trek mates and didn’t realize when the dark turned to dawn. Early morning we visited the famous Grishneshwar Temple and the scenic well in its vicinity. After which we headed to Ellora Caves.

The precision of work at the Kailashnath Temple of Ellora Caves is unbelievable. We walked through the Temple and then walked up for the top view. I took a corner and sat there mesmerising over the great artists of the time.

We visited Bhadra Maruti Temple next. It was a typical temple with the chaos of devotees all around. (The idol at this temple is unique, do Google that) But what caught my ears was an old man singing a hymn and playing an instrument. I went and sat beside him till all my trek mates finished the temple visit.

I closed my eyes and let his melody take me places. All this while walking through Ellora, I wanted to sit for a while and sink in the art of the place. I tried to do so when we reached the top of the Caves but couldn’t.

In the few minutes of the old man’s play, I had reached a state of sanity. I took a tour to the whole Caves and thought in awe about the artists back then. After he stopped playing, I got up and felt fully charged as we walked to Aurangzeb’s Tomb.

This place was the least touristy place we had been since morning and hence calmer. The walk around the tomb felt like a walk in the past trying to question and know what kind of person was Aurangzeb. What kind of ruler was he, what kind of life did he live.

With all these unanswered questions in my mind, we headed to Daulatbad Fort. I was panicking since morning what if we miss this fort for watching everything else. When we finally reached the fort, I sighed with joy.

I tried to recall all that I read and watched about the fort. As I walked in with my group, each word of praise I had read about this fort began to come to life. I took a trek route up found by a friend so as to avoid the stairs to the top. That’s how we are as a gang, even when there is no trek, we find one in wherever we go.

We explored the fort and reached down to the Bharat Mata Temple. I lied down and recalled the last time I had been here. I and dad had walked through the entire fort. The memory is vague but the emotion of it still strong in my mind. Holding his hand and listening to him praise the architecture of the fort is my only favourite memory with him.

After a good nap at the Temple, we drove to Bibi ka Maqbara. The climate changed by the time we reached. It got darker around as if it will rain. The memory reel playing in my mind made me feel as if I would pour out too.

I was walking with my cousin Sanish, and understanding the structure, its history etc. We saw the main structure and while heading back to the entrance it began to rain. I helped him keep his camera and other belongings.

Then I made him run to the main entrance. Before it began to rain heavily we safely reached the main gate and could see Maqbara right in front of us drenching in rain. I gave all my belongings to Sanish and stepped out to drench with the Maqbara. It was just me and the structure getting wet for a while before a few children stepped out for fun too.

I noticed a family of three siblings with their mothers having a blast. They were playing fugdi. The eldest one wasn’t able to play it fast with her two very young siblings. I walked to her and said, can we play fugdi.

That was just the beginning of it all. We played it super-fast like the way fugdi is supposed to be played. Then I joined in the siblings for a race, followed by splashing every puddle game among other new monsoon games we invented.

By now it had rained enough for water to be collected in the space around the fountains. I noticed and jumped in. The youngest sibling – Abdullah hopped in. Later, the two siblings and their mothers also stepped in and all of us splashed water on each other until we finally felt tired.

All of us except Abdullah sat for a while, our legs in the little pool of water, eyes on the Maqbara getting wet. We had the brightest smiles on our faces, perhaps brighter than the lightning we could see, the sound of our hearts pumping joy was higher than the thundering we could hear.

After almost an hour our Maqbara Monsoon session we finally walked to the main gate. The family took aside and tried to dry themselves while I met Sanish and sat down for a while shivering. We sat for a while looking at the Maqbara, the monsoon, the lighting, hearing the thundering and living the beauty of the moment we were blessed with.

And then again, Abdullah ran towards the pool of water near the fountains. His mother tried to stop him but he didn’t listen. I was shivering but I told Sanish I can’t let him play alone and I ran too. He taught me two new games, and we splashed water on each other one last time before his mother finally came.

I bid goodbye to my new found family and walked out of the Maqbara. We stopped by to eat some Samosa and chai when the same family walked in. I realized I hadn’t taken a picture with them. But I also figured I didn’t have a phone on me. I asked a friend to lend his phone and took a picture with them.

I promised to not share the picture anywhere and hence won’t be adding it here on my blog. The lights aren’t proper, Abdullah isn’t seen well in the picture, I have hidden Abdullah’s mother, and in many other ways, the picture is imperfect. Yet perfect for me to frame and keep it on the table of my favourite travel memories.

After the picture was taken, I bid them goodbye and went to complete my samosa and chai. To my surprise, they again called me. This time the family made me sit down, not for a photo, not for monsoon fun but to talk.

I shared about where I work, about my blog, about my travel plans etc. They shared about how one of the mothers’ is an advocate while the other is a housewife. I told them that I would be writing about today’s experience on my blog. Together they echoed we would love to read it.

I begged a card and a pen and got the number of the Advocate, I shared mine with her. In my mind, I was like I hope I write good enough a post this week to be able to share it with them. With all this in my mind, I bid a final goodbye to Abdullah and family and walked to our bus.

“I am so happy!!!” is all I kept exclaiming the entire time in the bus. So many asked why and I couldn’t blabber a proper answer as the joy of everything in the past hour was too good to be true. When we figured where we’ll stay the night and reached our room, I finally shared my Maqbara Monsoon saga with all.

While I was eating, I witnessed some group arguments which we call “discussion” in our trek gang language. The high pitch tone of which took me back sixteen years. It reminded me of how dad had behaved, after a good day around Aurangabad monuments how he had ruined everything with his tone of speaking, insulting before we all slept the sadness out.

I ate and slept. I have no clue what happened at night, but the after scenes in the morning joined some dots for me. The tension was evident. I didn’t wish the day to carry on with the same mood, I wished to change the mood, but I didn’t know how.

I sat on the front seat beside the driver. The climate was calm, there was a slight breeze, and it felt like it would rain again. We were on our way to Ajantha Caves now and it was going to be a good two-hour journey.

The scenic view made me play some slow soothing melody. It set the tone for some to doze off in the bus while some others watched out of the window and sang along with me.

We stopped for a quick breakfast. Nobody told me exactly what had happened last night, but the breakfast table spoke a lot. I observed things which made me feel that it isn’t all right and I just have to break this tone the group was setting in.

I sat ahead again with the driver and this time I changed my playlist. I told everyone I need a video of all of them dancing on the next song I play. I played Malhari and they all let loose. I made sure each one on the bus did at least a little jig and shook off all the low.

I took a few videos of my favourite songs. Then I played Lollypop Lagelu and made one of my dear trek mate dance on it. Oh my, how hilarious was it, dancing with him and, trying hard to match up to his dancing skills!

On such high spirits, we reached Ajantha Caves. We were walking towards the bus stop that would take us to the base of the caves. Before which I spotted a swing and ran towards it. I love swings. I can’t ever have enough of it. Yet after a while, I gave it for someone else to play.

Then a friend asked me to hop on to the small merry round. I didn’t want to, but he wanted to play it with me. We played on it and someone sped it up too. I was about to hop out of it when another friend hopped on to play it with me.

After so many rounds my head twirled but my heart smiled. It was a delight to see the child in each one of us live out so loud.

We finally took the bus and reached the base of the caves. I had shown the only picture I have with dad to my gang. I had requested everyone to tell me if they spot the same frame in any of the caves as I wished to recreate that image.

I and Sanish walked from cave to cave together, learning, understanding and trying to grab in as much information we could. We were walking out of one of the caves when one of my friends called me in.

We checked it with my photo and that was it, we found the exact same frame from my photo of sixteen years ago. I called Sanish and it was time to recreate the image. The only challenge was, we weren’t allowed to go in, there were barriers put to stop people from going in.

Somehow, I and Sanish sneaked in and clicked the picture. We stepped out, checked the image, the lights weren’t proper so we stepped in again for a final try. Sanish got it, I had managed to recreate the image thanks to the friends who spotted the frame and for my cousin for clicking it.

Neither did Sanish nor did anyone else from the group asked me why I wished to recreate this image. I am glad and grateful about it to everyone for not asking as I wouldn’t have a proper reply.

The sixteen-year-old photo is the only image of me and dad together, I don’t have any other photo clicked with only him from my childhood. And I know I won’t be clicking any now or in future and hence the photo is special.

The idea to recreate the picture without him in my mind was to mark my journey as a person. To mark the journey I and dad both have had in the past sixteen years. How much we learned of each other and how separate our growth has been.

We explored the Caves, ate a quick lunch and left. We had a long journey back home and I dozed off for the most of it as I had to be in the office early morning. This trip had given me more than what I could have asked for.

One of my best monsoon travel memory with a random family I met, letting go of my barriers with the group and dancing it all out. But the best is accepting my journey with my dad.

I can never truly tell anyone ever why the bitterness and perhaps I don’t want to either as I don’t believe in spreading the low. Like I made everyone dance the low out, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll end this post on a positive note.

I am an avid reader of places I go to and even otherwise, a habit I inculcated from my dad. I have a writer and travel seed in me both sowed in me by my dad. Life has got bitter now and moulded us both in a way we can’t change. Yet, I will always be grateful to him for giving me the core of my being, thank you, dad.