I can still remember that afternoon back in September 2007, when I stepped out of a train into the Jabalpur Railway Station, controlling the urge to curse every person and every piece of furniture I could see around me. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, as if it was somehow unreal. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, because I was sure of one thing – I may have been born here, but I definitely didn’t belong here.

Two years, I told myself, it’s just a matter of two years…
Little did I know, this city wasn’t willing to let go of me that soon. ;)

Four years later, I ride my scooty through the greenery of the Central Ordnance Depot of Jabalpur – or as I call it, The Jungle-pur. I look at the tall trees gently swaying in the wind, as I always do. I look at the birds, at a baby monkey clinging to its mother (the place where I live is full of monkeys and other animals), at small children playing in the park, at squirrels trying to cross the road – the usual stuff. But somehow, everything seems different today…

It’s as if the trees have sprung to life, and are sad to see me go.

I feel something I never really thought about; that the broken roads, the half painted houses, small shops by the road, plants and trees everywhere, the lack of traffic rules (or any other rules, for that matter), the peculiar language – these small things about this city, the same things I hated so much, actually had a way of making me feel at peace, as if it was home.

Jungle-pur may not have tall buildings, but it has people with big hearts. It’s a small city, but then small cities are always full of love – and the best part about them is that you’re always running into someone you know, and you’re gettting to know everyone you run into ;)

It’s a place where people are a little old fashioned and yet broad minded, a little conservative and yet open to new things. It has people of all kinds, the rebels and the idealists, the carefree and the ambitious, the sensitive and the strong – but what they all have in common, is their ability to love each other with all their hearts. It’s a place where if someone fails an exam, he would still celebrate because his friend has passed! :D

As much as I tried to avoid following the particular “Jabalpuri” attitude and style of speaking (with certain common phrases used which I’ll never hear anywhere else), four years down the line I think I’ve become as much a “Jabalpuri” as those who have lived here all their lives. The day I became comfortable with the idea of completely covering my face with a scarf while outside on the road (a common practice here for girls), I knew I had accepted the ways of this city as my own.

It seems like I’ve been here for a lifetime, and yet have never truly appreciated what this small city had given me – independence, some great friends, and so much of love. It is the most welcoming city I’ve ever been to, the kind of place where you can feel at home almost instantly.

I walk through the markets, feeling the cool breeze brush through my hair, looking at the road filled with a large number of two wheelers (and no one wearing a helmet, haha), listening to the typical conversations of people, seeing guys with their “sisters” (it’s almost like a tradition here – girls turn all their male friends into their “brothers” right from the beginning), students walking around with their ‘coaching’ bags, a large crowd gathered at the panipuri stalls… In its own ways, this city is beautiful. :)

Everything seems to move in slow motion, just like that afternoon – and I feel that some part of me does belong here, and always would.

And it seems that, in my very last moments here,
I’m falling in love with Jungle-pur. <3

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