Goodnight, Travel well.

There are a million things in life we would never do, if not for others. For me, the road trip to Shirdi was one of those things.

I wouldn't tag myself as an atheist but for some reason, I never saw the need for idol worship. I would much rather say a little prayer before I go to sleep and expect the Big Man up there to listen to me. Anyway, my parents being the devoted religious selves that they are, were keen on driving down to the famous Sai Baba shrine during this trip of theirs to Mumbai. So, off we went.

Our road trip began half an hour past schedule at 4:30 am. Sleepy and already tired that I was, I drifted fast asleep only to wake up at 6 am outside a huge out-of-the-way dhaba. As I stepped out to sip a cup of coffee, I felt the winter chill after days. The realization that I was out of bounds of the city was reason enough to get me out of sleep. Wrapped in my mom’s shawl, I witnessed the quiet composure around, the cracking of dawn and the slowly fading night. I could hear the birds waking up from sleep as I held on to my plastic cup.

Once in Shirdi, the ambiance completely changed. There was an air of urgency in spite of the calm that faith demands. It was evident that people had travelled miles and spent recklessly to be there. After spending two hours amidst elated devotees, walking long queues and catching but a glimpse of the idol before we were hurried on, we decided to head back.

In the five hours drive, we passed hills lined with a dozen white wind mills, a clear blue lake, cotton and tomato fields; women selling ripe guavas on the street; small villages that ended as soon as they began; men in white dhotis riding a bike to their fields; and lavish resorts living up to the demands of those craving a piece of both nature and luxury. There in the midst of deserted fields and roads, I saw shambled red brick houses that were so beautifully demolished that I began to wonder if it was intentional. I was mesmerised throughout.

An hour before we re entered the traffic lanes of the city, our driver, Madan, pointed out a few tourists panting their way up the slopes. "They'll make it in 3 days, sir! They won't take lifts or breaks", he casually informed us. My parents were as amazed as I was and like me, they just continued to stare at them through the window trying to comprehend what had been told, until a turn blocked our view and we drove on.

Perhaps, the Big Man up there has a way of getting us to love him. One way or the other.