Sree Leathers is a chain of footwear store, in Jamshedpur. Back then, they had a wide variety of affordable shoes and slippers. Their shops would always be overflowing with people, especially during Dushehra and Diwali. And no one returned with just a pair! One fine day, we saw the Sree Leathers ad in the newspaper in Chennai and we made up our minds to visit, just for old times' sake!
The shop in Chennai was situated very far away from home. Most weekends, we would remind ourselves about the visit. However, this Sunday, we were determined to find the shop and speak to the owner and tell him of our joy!
Traffic in a city like Chennai can be very daunting. But this Sunday afternoon, it appeared thin, but just only in our residential area. As we drove to the city-center, we found that roads everywhere had been diverted or dug up for laying the Metro rail. On reaching the busy T-Nagar Market area, we started making enquiries. Sadly, no one had heard of Sree Leathers; most of them directed us to Bata!
Finally, based on the address, we parked nearby and decided to walk the rest of the way. My husband took it up as a challenge! Finally, one gentleman said he knew that the shop was right on the main road, a little to our left. And lo and behold, we crossed the road and there, right in front of us was Sree Leathers.
I don't know what it is about Jamshedpur, but nostalgia is a faithful woman! Any talk of Jamshedpur takes us back to that wonderful place, that Eldorado! We turn into that unfortunate suffering native, who has left behind his heart and home! The other day, during the parent-teacher meeting, a young father came to meet me. It is rare for fathers to attend this meeting and I expressed my appreciation to him. As we spoke, he mentioned that he was from Jamshedpur. So am I ... I blurted. Momentarily, all was forgotten, and it was just Jamshedpur--the place where we were born and raised, twenty years apart. The birthplace bond is something very strong!
Well, then, having spotted Sree Leathers, my husband walked in triumphantly.
Where is the owner? can I speak to him?
The shop had very few customers. One of the assistants came up.
Sir whom would you like to meet?
The owner..!Where does he sit..kothai? he lapsed into Bengali.
The supervisor appeared on the scene. He was graciousness personified.
Dada, he hasn't come in yet. Do sit down. Shall I show you some shoes in the meantime?
Yes, of course. I came to buy shoes. But I also want to meet your owner. You see....I know him from my days in Jamshedpur. I was so happy to see that you have opened a branch here in Chennai. When does he usually come in? How is the shop doing?
The assistant didn't say a word but heard my husband out patiently.
Then came along the Manager, a smart and affable lady.
Good morning sir, I heard you wanted to meet the owner...
Yes, Yes..my husband eagerly repeated the old nostalgic tale. He took out his card.
When your owner from Calcutta comes the next time, give me a call..I'd like to meet him.
She was very hospitable, and offered us some tea and cold drinks. She also asked us to choose what ever we liked.
As we went to the leather section, the young supervisor joined us. He had been working in the Jamshedpur branch. He said he was missing his family and of course, Jamshedpur.
He then dropped his voice and said..
Sir, we were really taken aback, when you walked in, demanding to meet the owner. Do you remember, more than twenty years ago, our owner's son was in the shop. An intruder entered his room and shot him dead..point blank! We are really very careful after that incident....
But Dada, it was good to meet you..have a good day!
That is the harsh reality of life! But what does Nostalgia know of that!
As our days pass on
a certain pain indescribable
our hearts do clutch
sweet memories flood
of November evenings gone by
Laughter floating down corridors
twilight splendour over trees
Steel smoke mingling with flying pollen
and lazy evenings spent in leisure
Oh Jamshedpur!
a million heart strings tie us to thee.
Nostalgia, thou faithful woman
You have taken abode forever in our hearts!
a certain pain indescribable
our hearts do clutch
sweet memories flood
of November evenings gone by
Laughter floating down corridors
twilight splendour over trees
Steel smoke mingling with flying pollen
and lazy evenings spent in leisure
Oh Jamshedpur!
a million heart strings tie us to thee.
Nostalgia, thou faithful woman
You have taken abode forever in our hearts!
(penned by my husband's college mate, Cyril Alappet and without whose permission, I reproduce it here..with two words of my own!)
