Back in 2010 when I was studying in the UK, I was in a mindset to get the most out of my time that I spend at the university there. Much before moving to London to pursue my higher education, I was clear that I will complete my education and return back to India to work in the sub-continent. Like I said, to make the most out of my time in London since the premises of my university were open 7 days a week, from 9.00AM to 9.45PM, I used to spend my most day, all days of the week on campus. Even the days I’m not “studying”, I would either linger at the library or one of the labs or chat with academics and other researchers at the campus cafeteria.
It is sometime in early July of 2011, only when I booked my flights to return to India, I realised that I have about thirteen weeks to complete my curriculum and pack-up from this beautiful city. It is in this moment it occurred to me that I’m, perhaps, in the cultural capital of the world and I haven’t seen the city much. Except for a handful of touristy places, I had not explored at all – even the British Museum that I crossed on almost daily basis was left out!
I would criss-cross a narrow alley or a walk through an unknown by lane. I would stop by an old café by the street, sketch, take notes, click and basically immerse myself in that moment.
It is then that I decided to buy a second hand digital SLR, and I found a few old but good condition M42 lenses (these are manual lenses from the 1940’s). Each Saturday, I made it a point to walk through the city. And if it rained on Saturday, I had a reserved Sunday as a backup. Every weekend, I would leave home around 7.00 AM in the morning, and walk around 14-15 kilometres. I would no real agenda, take one of the buses that came to a stop nearby, and alight it abruptly – wherever I felt like. I would criss-cross a narrow alley or a walk through an unknown by lane. I would stop by an old café by the street, sketch, take notes, click and basically immerse myself in that moment.
During these thirteen weeks, I realised that the city had so much to offer. And perhaps, these are the memories that are still afresh in my mind. It is not nostalgic, but a living memory for me to be able to visit those alleys, narrow and hidden lanes which my eyes have seen, and my innate senses and my inner being have experienced.
Sometimes I wonder, what if I had not taken out that time, would London be the same for me? The answer to which you already know by now.
My uncle would narrate to me his time during his youth that he spent in London – probably in the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. it is those conversations that had evoked my love for travelling and a special feeling for this city. And, yet I was living an otherwise mundane and a regimented life while I was actually there.
One of my old uncles, he was in the 70’s when I was a little boy of 6 or 7 years old. He was frail and unwell. My parents, therefore, would visit him every weekend to see him, and I would obviously tag along with them. This happened for a few weeks, and in those few visits, he would narrate to me his time during his youth that he spent in London – probably in the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. it is those conversations that had evoked my love for travelling and a special feeling for this city. And, yet I was living an otherwise mundane and a regimented life while I was actually there.
It must be the slowness of walking through the city – witnessing small things like a singer performing in Covent Gardens, witnessing graffiti artists creating their works hidden from the authorities, skateboarders by Thames, chatting with the workers on their cigarette break at the then under construction site of The Shard, eating Mexican street food by the Regent’s Canal or simply gazing at an old tavern at the almost countryside in Zone 6 somewhere in East London – that have etched such vivid memory and affinity to the city. That provided me a relief from my otherwise regimented lifestyle.
All these walks had no agenda or intent. I walked alone.
All these walks had no agenda or intent. I walked alone. I did not recognise the purpose or function of it then. But, now with a hindsight, when I look at it, I realise that it altered my relationship not just with the city – but internally with myself, my own being.
I owe this to my uncle who narrated so many stories and ignited a curiosity in me as a child. After a few weeks of our regimented visits my frail uncle sadly passed away. What he left with me was a precious box that I opened in that July of 2011 only to discover slowness that was left for me.
I was able to pause, observe my feelings in that moment and specifically (and intentionally) find my slowness to regain balance.
My feelings – emotional as well as my physical presence in the city altered for life. And, it is only on my return to India after several months when I got busy in a routine life, I was able to pause, observe my feelings in that moment and specifically (and intentionally) find my slowness to regain balance. Since then, the slowness is what I have always cherished for it has given me hope, purpose and a possibility to create something meaningful and worthy of holding.
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