11-06-2025
Unplanned solo trips can be food for soul
With 10% of battery charge left in my phone, I sat sulking at the Jalandhar bus stand. Bus operations to Chandigarh were to resume 10 hours later at 5pm. I wondered what to do with the time on hand.
Last December, I had chosen to set myself free from the routine and went to visit a friend in Kapurthala. It was a one-day trip and I was supposed to return the next morning. We were having fun until the news of a Punjab bandh called by farmers from 9am to 6pm the next day flashed on TV. Hoping to dodge the protest, I decided to take the bus back to Chandigarh at 7am.
My friend dropped me at the Jalandhar bus stand before heading to work in the misty morning. To my surprise, not a single bus was running. I waited an hour only to be told that there would be no bus service till the evening. Going back to Kapurthala didn't seem practical with my friend off to work. In the hurry to catch the morning bus, I had even forgotten the phone charger. Sitting at the bus stand was the last thing I wanted to do that winter morning. So, I made a call to another friend and asked him about the places I could visit in the city. Of all the places he mentioned, I chose to go to the Ghadar Movement Museum simply because it was a kilometre away from the bus stand.
The museum building, painted in red and white, looked serene with hardly any visitors. On the left stood a bookshop and on entering the premises, I found a library with a few students studying in scattered corners. In the museum, I met Ravinder Kumari Kochhar, a lady in her late eighties, wearing a green scarf on her white hair. She gave me a guided tour of the museum, telling me about Kartar Singh Sarabha, Lala Har Dayal, and all prominent figures of the Ghadar Party, who had envisioned an independent country for their people, free of any discrimination and had sacrificed their life for the cause.
Seeing the pictures of sacrifices, hardships and the Komagata Maru ship, there was a subtle realisation of what freedom had cost our forefathers. With much zeal, my elderly guide narrated the story behind each picture. Her voice was as vibrant as the red colour in a 'Ghadar di Gunj' poster. As she held my hand during the tour, she reminded me of my grandmother who would often take our support to climb stairs.
The lady was compassionate enough to help me with the charger. As I put my phone to charge, she took me to her room on the first floor which was full of pictures of her family. On top of the wall stood a flag of the Communist party and a photo of Stalin. She told me how she had devoted her life to the nation and chosen not to marry. Having shown all the pictures, she took me to the cafeteria. The food was kept on the table, each person serving themselves and washing their plate afterwards. It was a simple meal that felt like home.
The lady bid me adieu with a warm hug, and I left for my next destination, the Tripurmalini Shakti Peeth Temple. Like Harmandar Sahib, the temple is surrounded by water. I sat beside it, letting the still water seep calmness in me. Having watched the sunset, I made my way back to the bus stand. Gladly, buses had started plying and soon I was on my way home, wiser and more grateful.
The writer is a correspondent with Hindustan Times, Chandigarh.
