Travelogue No. 2
Pune (puːneɪ)
23 April 2026 20:57 On my way to the airport. Actually, on my way to E.B.’s house, from where I will make my way to the airport in seven hours, in the deep of the night: the preponement of making an more dreadful, tedious and expensive trip there later. As I listen to Starlight under a mostly empty sky, I am questioning the reality of providence. In doing so, I’m reminded of Kintsugi Bowl. I realize that I’ve never documented the kintsugi bowl event.
Much too many more thoughts are running through my mind which I simply cannot pen down on this bike. Aside, I am enjoying the breeze and the music. Now i’m listening to Eusexua.
22:44 Dinner of Nongshim kimchi ramen while E.B. prepares for an interview.
24 April 2026 03:20 On about three hours of sleep I’m headed to the airport. The cab from even here costs 400 rupees but there is nothing I can do about that.
07:10 This terrible ritual of only being able to go into the city by taking a cab from aeromall
07:16 Frailed played as I exit the moment the aeromall and entered, officially, the city. I am headed to the gym, in Kalyani Nagar
Pune metro. I have never once taken it.
09:17 After a short run, a quick core workout. Then, shoulders. Then, the main act: I take a shower at the gym and rehumanize myself.
09:38 I’ve given up and decided to get a bus the rest of the way.
09:46 Saw a Wet n Joy bus. no photo.
listening to Speed while watching vehicles drive by
I missed my stop and got off at the next one. I really could not be arsed to now walk another 20 minutes to get to the palace so I loitered around in Shastrinagar. These are parts of the city that I’ve never been to before because there has never been a need for it.
Almost every woman I see has their face cloaked quite hecticly, for protection from the sun, the dust and maybe a million more things in this arrid summer.
Sights I see also include myriad signboards made at least 5-10 years ago, now catching rust but beautifully so.
09:53 Drinking chai among construction workers at Saiba tea stall; so many buildings being built in this city, always
09:57 I’ve never before noticed how good traffic cops are here.
R. W., for the first time in about three years.
On the bus, I’m watching reels on other people’s phones and sweating profusely.
I hear every second person asking for a ticket to the railway station. When we do reach the station, a loud announcement from the conducter: Pune Station railway station chalo sab Punawale Puna.
Some buildings of note: Aayakar Bhavan and Pune Zilla Parishad
We reach Sasoon Hospital and I know we’re close.
In Chandramanu Nagar, I saw a corpse inside an ambulance.
Everything looks entirely familiar with a complete lack of distance. All I can feel is my age. I feel overgrown to be here and definitely know that I don’t belong to this city anymore. But, my eyes cannot tell that. To them everything looks as it always did. Nothing seems to have changed in this part of the city.
12:05 R.W. and I are heading back to campus in a cab, another oh so familiar experience. I would have liked to have taken the shuttle back (as she initially proposed) but I forget they only run every 1.5 hours.
We are so immersed in conversation that I don’t have a great moment of nostalgia when returning to the hill. Even on the way, I only occassionally peak at the view outside. The last time I left the hill, I was so sad about it. Now, I see as ever that there are monsterously tall apartments being constructed on the right side of the hill. On the hill itself, indecipherable eternal construction.
In my reminiscence, I decided to give her a call. She is on the way to Florence, with her mother, in what I’m assuming is probably a Flixbus. We speak for long.
First I get a vada pav from Juice Press (not as good as I remember it being; how could it be?). It’s too dry, I walk through the green of the boys’ east block to get to the con store. Sagar bhaiya is not there. I splurge and get myself a cherry cola (150 rupees).
I doubt there is any other place in the world where I can turn to any corner and have a flood of memories rush over me. The ecobrutalist prison that this is, this place is so tiny and limited. One year here has encompassed a life.
I eat my meal, still on call with N. D., at the Ramanujan Amphitheatre; one of my favorite places to be. I spent many afternoons here reading in tranquility, with my fruit yogurt and granola.
I spend some time catching up with Y. in the new academic building. As she’s leaving, I insist we walk through the cricket field. I tell her about our recklessness on the night before graduation— a fearless smoking gun to bid adieu. I drop her off and return to the cricket field. Sitting on a mound, I read Good Morning, Midnight for some time.
Everyone here looks just as everyone did three years ago. Everything is the same but me.
16: 19 I step out and head to the Tapri. I pick up a Frooti for old times’ sake and made the horrible mistake of heading up the road. The sun is juicing me.
Listening to Music.
16:48 After what felt like an hour of waiting for an auto then a cab, I’ve finally managed to make it out of the hill. Next stop, Le Plaisir.
Today, the pasta was too salty and I got penne when I asked for fusilli but it was perfectly al dente. I also got an iced tea to cut the heat. I cannot remember if this place used to be any better or if I was lying to myself.
18:37 I met no strangers, neither did I meet friends.
The light went off and for a minute the music stopped. I could’ve had it stay like that but then everything was back on.
18:50 With two and a half hours left before my bus home, I decided to go to FC Road for some quick shopping and then make my way to Swargate. Just as I step out of the restaurant, it starts pouring.
Given up I head back inside.
19:10 After a half hour of heavy rain, I am finally able to start walking. Now my time here has narrowed down so much, shopping may not still be a possibility. It’s also nice to take a stroll through FC Road at night so I still make my walk. It’s not like there’s anything else to do till I can go to the bus.
On my walk, I spot a bookstore. I walk in, naturally. Absolutely everything in here is Sanghi— unsurprising for Pune. I walk out as quickly as I came in.
19:14 I love all of Shivajinagar because it’s lit neon. Nowhere else do you see these signboards anymore. And nowhere really do you see hoards of people gathered around big cardboard bins digging for clothes. It is as if they are gathered to watch a puppet show.
19:40 I manage to shop and snag some unbelievable offers. With about 15 minutes left still, till I need to get going, I head to what I thought was Vaishali— a classical Pune insitution and my respite in a city that I found to lack good dosa. I walk in and ask for a table outside. I’m led through the kitchen and with all tables full, need to share one with an old man. Ek chai de de. Strong nako mala, ekdum light, he says to the waiter. I simply ask for a chai, and the way to the washroom. This is my last stationary rest stop until I reach home tomorrow. I am handed a key with a mickey mouse keychain. The restroom is on the right side, to the left of the SPDP counter.
19:56 I’ve sat here thinking that Vaishali looks quite different from how I remember it looking, not so much in how it’s designed but in its layout. I come out to realize that I have actually walked into Roopali— a place I frankly hate but have only been to during the day. What a thing that will only happen in Pune; calling your south indian restaurants Vaishali, Roopali, Shilpa, Priya, Rashmi.
I book myself an auto, since there are no bike taxis in this city, and begin to leave the city.
Amidst rows and rows of white shirts for 100, 150, 200: Veena World, who denied me 200 dollars on a disastrous travel day in 2023. But, twenty minutes from leaving the city, i am giddy and nauseous by how cozy I feel here— a constant feeling from each one of my last twenty minutes here.
A ‘Doormat Rs. 40 Sale Sale Sale’ sign reminds me of home. Then, a final view of a wall lined with murals on the left and classic pune-style shops on the right— a final constant sight and a constant final one.
21:09 After taking a shuttle bus from Swargate, we wait a few kilometers down for our actual bus amidst ruble. I fear my journey back home, a. for how long it is and b. at reminders of blood stained sheets and curtains from previous bus rides. It has been too long for me to still remember if VRL is a reliable bus operator or not. All will be revealed when the bus arrives and I get on.
For souveniers for my family, all I have gotten is Chiwda, which isn’t even a problem because that is probably all they wanted anyway. In this long day of mine, there was still so much that got missed out. I was telling R.W. that I wanted to have dinner at Siddhant Paratha Center in Aundh, which she thought was her secret dinner spot. To make it to Aundh successfully and then also catch my bus would have needed a miracle. I will go there the next time I come. I hope that day isn’t far.
This was a wonderful day and I really enjoy one day trips now, as hectic as they are. It was long time due to revisit what used to be my room and relive losing memories before they fade in my mind.
After lying straight down, coffin-style, for the last 14 hours, I am happy to be able to move my body again. But, before I can find too much delight in touching down, a reminder of the long day ahead strikes. I first need to rake my way into the city from out here (before which I need to pee) then fix myself up and head to work.
12:02 I walked to Goraguntepalya Metro Station. I’m unsure if I’ve ever been here before, probably not. I make use of their services and get on the first train out. I look so beat up and I definitely smell. I still have over an hour’s journey till I get home.
13:11 Cowardly, I have given up on making any more of this journey on the metro. I got off at Srirampura and booked a bike straight home. As a true homecoming present (and and obvious sight guarenteed to fall on my way back home) I saw my favorite building but also noticed the heaps of blossoming gulmohar trees— a sign of summer’s arrival.
20:10 With this hefty meal, my long day ends.