Here we come… Preparing for a memory trip…

Tigers or not who cares

I am embarking on a trip down memory lane, heading to the Vidarbha region — in many ways, my region. The first destination is Nagpur, the City of Oranges. Nagpur is almost my hometown, situated in the Vidarbha region of Maharashtra, best known for its oranges.

I spent the better part of my formative years in Vidarbha. My father worked in a government factory, and we lived in its colony, which stood on the edge of a forest that doubled as a tiger sanctuary. The nearest city was Chandrapur, famous for its coalfields.

Almost every summer, Chandrapur would make headlines as the mercury climbed into the late 40s °C. The land is unforgiving in summer, yet life here carries on. Wherever you go in Vidarbha, you’ll find people who take it all with a smile. Most dismiss the troubles of life with a casualness that hides the pain of the daily grind.

For the uninitiated, Vidarbha is the land of cotton fields, impossibly hot summers, and a stubborn spirit that the rest of Maharashtra quietly admires but loudly denies. It is a region that doesn’t try to charm you — it doesn’t need to. It simply sits there: flat, vast, unhurried, waiting for you to understand it.

It is also the land of juicy oranges. The type that seems to get their sweetness from the vibe of the land.

Anyone who has been touched by the dry wind and the angry sun in Vidarbha for long enough transforms. From being a moaning homo sapien to a happy-go-lucky adventurer. You can get out of Nagpur but can’t get Nagpur out of you. The rest of the world might not appreciate the rough edge that the land gives us, its people, but we don’t care. We know life is a roller coaster and the ride has to be enjoyed all the way.

I experienced this throughout the years I lived there, and now I am going back to taste it again.

This time, it’s for a college reunion. Though we did our engineering degree in Karad, far southwest of Nagpur, the reunion venue chosen is the Tadoba Forest Sanctuary — about 150 km from Nagpur and near Chandrapur. Tadoba is a tiger reserve, famous for thrilling tiger sightings.

The plan is simple. Thirty five years after we stumbled out of college with our degrees, misplaced confidence, and absolutely no idea what we were doing — we are all going back. Not everyone, but some. Older now, perhaps wiser. Someone had the idea; nobody remembers who. Everybody agreed.

Plans followed. Some took on the heavy lifting of logistics, while others, like me, simply looked on.

It promises to be quite an event. I’m not just hoping — I’m certain. While everyone went the way life took them, none has hopefully changed. While the world around one went crazy, we never had a problem. We were already crazy and it was nothing new. Hopefully none of us has become sane and is still as crazy as ever.

Spirits will be high, ‘spirits‘ will flow, and stories that can’t be put in print will be retold. There will be a isn’t and dance about everything and then some more. Those stories that can be told, albeit with strict censorship, will be attempted.

The heat will be oppressive, and we may or may not see tigers in the sanctuary. Do I care? Not at all. When friends who have laughed, cried, played, and stayed in touch come together, who needs pleasant weather or a few wild cats?

They say you can never go back. They also say time blurs memories. Whoever “they” are, they don’t understand life. We are going back, and our memories of those carefree days remain crystal clear.

The stories will be told later…let me go now…

As someone once said: