Kadmanivasi.

A journey by train was the best part of our summer vacations and as a family, we looked forward to it every year. The destination was always the home of an uncle or aunt, and I can recall so many wonderful moments spent in their company. Later, we started adding one more destinations, a temple visit or a tourist hill station. But still, the most exciting part, was the train journey itself. How I miss them!  For my family, arriving at the railway station in time, would be an understatement. The reality is that we would reach the Tatanagar Railway Station, in Jamshedpur much ahead of time. Trains were never known to arrive or leave early, invariably they were late. But still we would be there an hour before schedule.  The next, was to go through the booking list. We always used to have our tickets reserved months in advance, however, until we saw our names on the list, we were never sure. The chart used to be pasted outside the compartment in the last moment, as the train trudged into th

No river can return to its source, yet all rivers must have a beginning. Native American Proverb. On 9th August, 2024, I set out, for the first time in 65 years, on a pilgrimage to my ancestral village of Kalpathi in the Palakkad district of Kerala. I did not travel alone. My daughter, who accompanied me, was excited to be on a 'journey of discovery, to solve a 100 year old mystery' and chose to be Hastings to my Poirot. My husband, who valued the visit to one's native place, also travelled with me. Years ago, we had been on a similar pilgrimage to his native village of Kandamangalam, in the Tanjore district of Tamil Nadu.  But why was I undertaking this journey?  What was propelling me? What was driving me? I tried to question myself and understand my need to visit a place my ancestors had left decades ago.  My paternal grandfather had left Kalpathi in 1917 and had arrived in Jamshedpur in Bihar, where he took up service in The Tata Iron & Steel Company. Like a banyan