Take me by the hand

A late night conversation with mom and dad turned into an aha moment for Ami and I. They began explaing the background of a long-standing family property dispute during which cropped up names and details of decesed family members. Our great-great grandfather and who he was. Our great grandfather and his eventful life before he succumbed to an early typhoid-induced death at 32. He was survived by my 26-year old widowed great-grandmother and six young chidlren. One of them would grow up to be my Baba.

Turns out, my family has had a long realtionship with the Indian railways and their roots are traced back to a tiny village, if all it can be called that, named Tayalur in Karnataka.

Ami and I were already too curious. This past Sunday, the four of us took a roadtrip to Tayalur and nearby, Bangarpet. It was wonderful, to put it mildly. While the dust and surroundings were reminiscent of my taluk trip at IIJNM, the bigger reason behind the journey made it extra special. We walked through the railway station, which by the way has been really well-maintained, both the old and new part, that was inagurated only in June 2008.

Although we only left home at around 10 a.m., all of us were promptly hungry at 2 p.m., so we stopped for a sumptious lunch at a roadside resaturant. The vegetable thali with puris* and aloo** was perfect.

Next stop was Tayalur, the tiniest vilage I have set eyes on, tucked away on a road that offshoots from the Mulbagal road sign on National Highway 4. It has just one tiny 'main street' with cubby-sized stores that sell beedis*** and peanut candy. The rest of the village extends behind this road, into a series of maze-like houses and sructures, packed in close proximity. Chickens and dogs roam the muddy tracts, freely.

Ami and I now know where we come from. Tiny villages in Karnataka, a few kilometers from Bangalore. Our ancestors have worked hard over the years to provide future generations with a standard of living greater than one they lived through. We're proud of our lineage and more at ease in our own skin.

Next stop, the inner boroughs of Chennai, that trace the lineage on our father's side.

*Puris -Fluffy fried Indian bread

**Aloo-The Indian name for potatoes

***Beedis-Indian cigarettes

Below are some pictures of the trip.

A dog takes a nap in the waiting room of the Bangarpet Railway Station. Also seen in the picture is a wheelchair(?!). Before the days of chairs on wheels, the elderly and passengers who needed assistance moving around were carried in chairs with long poles extending from the frame that people would use to carry the seat.


The winding railroad tracks.

Huge boulders on the Old Madras Road. It's amazing how insignifcant one of these rocks can make you feel. When surrounded by them, you realize that you're just another person, passing these huge stones, your tiny car just a metal toy that it could crush instantly.

View from the top of the station.