Agra

This Republic Day long weekend had me fidgeting. My incapability of planning any non-work related task had made sure that while I wanted to, I had nowhere to go for a vacation. The frustration did lead me to go all bonkers on the boxing bag and come up with a punching combination that I am rather proud of. But when even boxing couldn’t help, as if straight out of a coming-of-age Bollywood movie, my mother shared some pictures of the family on our WhatsApp group…and I knew where I wanted to go. Thanks to technology, I had my tickets to Agra within thirty minutes. I paid a bomb for them but then could hear Al Pacino’s Aldo Gucci say, “Quality is remembered long after Price is forgotten.”

Growing up in a city known for its hot and dusty climate, I always looked forward to winters as a kid. I still do but living in Mumbai you don’t really experience any. This weekend getaway allowed me to savour the real thandi. The first burst of cold wind at the Agra airport as I deboarded had me beaming. All I wanted was homemade chai and Mangode (a fried snack made of dal). My wish came true in the evening. Some true gems of Agra are still not on Swiggy/Zomato and to get the best Mangodas you need to get yourself to the railway fatak (crossing) near Guru Ka Taal. Ahh, the thrill of jumping the barricade of a closed crossing as a train comes fast approaching. The stuff Thums Up ads are made of.

As I daydreamed juxtaposing myself with Shah Rukh Khan, my mother insisted that we catch the original in his new film. So, we did. While my sibling and I made fun of the dialogues and storyline, I couldn’t help but get swooped up along with the crowd cheering and applauding at Pathaan’s escapades. Only a true Agra-waala can appreciate the rustic cheering often peppered with sarcasm. Does that make me a true Agra-waala? Honestly, I am more Agra-waala with my friends from Mumbai and more Mumbaikar with my Agra janta. Them Dhobi ka Kutta feels.

My perpetual identity crisis, this time around, got interrupted as we walked back to our car. A more climactic crisis lay at hand- the vehicle had been blocked by others and since there was no valet service, the other cars couldn’t be moved. As necessitated, my family called for the parking staff and while I stood bewildered- 7-8 burly men picked up one of the other vehicles and moved it with their bare hands. The strength that unadulterated desi ghee can give you is unbelievable. It also helps that half of Agra’s population seems to be into pehalwani. Any guesses why I am obsessed with Boxing?

On our way back, I coaxed my family into getting Dum Aloo and Malai Kofta from our favourite Dhaba along the railway station. One can’t help but squeeze every bit of their hometown in the eighty hours they will spend visiting it. Engulfed in the aroma of garlic naan, as we neared our area my father pointed to the rather posh buildings coming up. I dare say they would give the buildings in Gurgaon a run for their money. Well-lit, aesthetically built with up-market storefronts suddenly I was not in the Agra I grew up in. I believe that’s what progress actually is all about—holding onto our traditions as we march empathetically into the future. Flawlessly displayed by the gentleman who passed by us in an expensive electric scooter as he single-handedly tore open a pan masala packet and emptied the contents into his mouth.