"Write a 300-word write-up on Turf View", Da said to me. I was making my traveling plans to Ireland at the time- my traveling plans to Ireland without a clue as to how i was going to get there without any money, and even if I did get, somehow get there, how would I keep my body and soul together once I am there. So when he says to me, "write a 300-word write up on Turf View", I think -- oh ! another almost impossible task -- because I have never really had much to say about Turf. It's not one of my great loves to ponder upon for hours.
Until now.
Until I sat by the window in my room, that looks out onto a playground, where every morning I see boys getting together for a game of cricket or football, beginning with affectionate obscenities and some backslapping, And thought to myself this was a place of a lot many firsts.
A first home, a first love, a first passion, a first blog, a first dreamer, a first musician friend.
6/69 was my first home. Not that I had to take to the streets before that ! but wherever I lived, I lived there for such a short span of time that I didn't really get an opportunity to make it home to me. But then, 6/69 happened -- and oh ! what a wonderful thing to happen. From the balcony that looked out at the shimmering skyline of the greatest city in the world, to the drainage outlet that clogged every two days -- every single aspect of that place was beautiful. The drawing-dining room, the kitchen, the room with the idiot box, which had to be hit upon on the head to make it work, Ma and Da's room, and my room. My room.
It was like a whole new world to me. A world which was mine, only mine. A world where nobody could break into unless I let them. It had pictures, a lot of pictures. And secrets, here and there, that only the walls knew about. And thoughts, and promises, broken and kept, and illusions and dreams, some of which shattered without a sound. And four glorious years of my like. A love, a lot of love. Some indifference, and some dislike as well. Every emotion that I ever felt was a part of that room.
And there was, of course, the improvised ashtray, some letters and gifts not meant to be shown to anyone else, and a few other forbidden things -- but it was all, all a part of what made that place home to me. And this home was a part of Turf View.
During winters, I would walk down to the park, where there were these tyres hanging and one could swing on them. I loved doing that. It was the time of a great many contemplations, introspections, decision-makings, crying, laughing, singing, talking, and looking at faces at window seats in the buses that rolled past. It was also the place of two very mundane activities of making and destroying worlds, and committing the seven sins, inside my mind. And then of course there was the shopping complex, where one could buy almost everything from graph-sheets to hot dogs. And a very bad restaurant called 'Hot-Spot' which was stupidly expensive, but then it was better than nothing. There were walks with walks with Shikhar and Malvika, and spending time with Didi under that tree outside the shopping complex. There was sitting with Guddu on the ledge on the terrace of the 6th Block and talking about the silliest things, like which color of an umbrella is nicer (blue or yellow), to the most intellectual things (which I don't remember !). There was standing under the 12th block and listen to Dhruv playing the hell out of his drums.There was lecturing Abhisek on how to lead his life in a 'righteous' manner ! There was sighing-gazing-sighing-gazing at Dhruv, Malvika, Shikhar, Somesh, Zicco, and the whole lot of them and, wishing that I was a part of them.
And then, there was the terrace of the 19th Block and 18th Block, where I would meet ... someone. In secret. We would be scared of getting caught. All the time. But oh ! it was worth every moment of it. It was the place where for the first time I looked into someone's eyes and I knew that if he was there by my side, I wouldn't need anybody else in the world. It was where I fell in love, over and over again. It was the place where reason paved way for desire, and it was the place where I wanted to make every moment last an eternity.
We eventually shifted to 15/175 because Da got posted out, and saying goodbye to 6/69 was very difficult. But then I realized I didn't have to, because 6/69 was imbibed in me. It's a part of who I am. It's there in my first poem, my first song, my first love, my first heartbreak. It is there in those four roller coaster years of my life. And so is Turf.
It is not one of the places I love or am passionate about. But then you don't need to be in love with something for it to be important to you. Very important at that.
Turf View is like an unwritten poem waiting to be put down on paper by Frost.
Turf is that place which has a little bit of my heart in some desolate corner of it.
