As I stood there in the compound of the Mecca Masjid, I reminisced the last 4 years I have been in Hyderabad.
I still remember clearly stepping out of the Begumpet Airport, filled with dreams and visions of the blaze of glory I will leave behind me in every thing I will do in my professional career.
Once out of the airport, the first words that came out of my mouth were, "This is so like Lucknow, so like Home". I come from a small city called Unnao, and Lucknow being the place where I did my engineering from and where my relatives stay has always been home to me.
Being from a small city I can never get used to the hustle bustle that big cities like Delhi and Mumbai have to offer. But, I never felt out of place in Hyderabad. The markets, the roads, and above all the people always made me feel at home. And nothing comes closer to my heart than the old city.
This part of the metropolis with its old world charm, narrow lanes and narrower bylanes, old time ambiance and with its people always made me feel as if I had stepped back in time to an era long gone and forgotten. Some people say that this part of the city is not safe, and some may never set their feet here or venture out alone, but to me this place denotes what we have forgotten in our race to become a modern, growing economy.
I have visited the old city many times, mostly just on a whim to be here, and have always returned at peace with myself and my surroundings. But today, as I stood there, I was not filled with peace, but with the sadness. I never thought I would feel what I felt then -- the feeling of going away, of leaving home, and of not knowing when (if ever) I will come back.
I know that when I decided to move to Bangalore it was a conscious choice, and I had the option of staying back here. And yet I decided to move out of here for personal and professional reasons. But I also know that when I leave this city, I will leave a part of me behind -- roaming aimlessly in the bylanes of the old city like I do now. I just hope that someday I get a chance to come back and meet him -- and maybe listen to his experiences and tales over a cup of hot, steaming Irani chai and a serving of Hyderabadi Biryani.
This is Hashir, signing off
Hasta la vista -- my beloved city, my home.
P.S. - There is a legend about the stone benches in the compound of the Mecca Masjid which states that anyone who sits on them will always come back to Hyderabad. I never believed in this legend until today, and so I sat there for some time. Lets see if it is true........
