engine. It felt just like playing Need for Speed, overtaking cars on both sides. Around 9 p.m., we stopped at a bus stand. Komal went to answer nature’s call, and I went to a nearby shop to buy some dinner. Here too, they were selling aloo bonda (potato fritters), banana bhujia, and similar snacks. After buying some water, biscuits, and food, I returned — only to find that all the buses looked exactly the same! The names and destinations were written in Tamil, curling like jalebis!Now what? Luckily, there were only four or five buses parked. So, taking our chances, we started checking one by one — and success came on the third try! Komal had already bought some water and lemon rice. Since we had no idea when we’d reach our destination, we decided to eat then and there. I quietly avoided mentioning that I hadn’t noticed the bus number! No biryani or pulao this time — just plain rice packed in foil, topped with bitter lemon. Oh, it was extremely sour! But paired with the aloo bonda, it didn’t taste too bad. Around 10 p.m., as I was dozing off lightly, a sharp turn jolted me awake! The bus had left the highway and was now moving along a narrow, dark village road. Was this Pondicherry? No — soon the bus got back onto the main road, and after a while, we saw a grand arch: “WELCOME TO PONDICHERRY.” So the city wasn’t asleep yet! Yes, this was indeed a real town. We got off the bus and took an auto to a hotel in the Park area, named French Lodge.
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Pondicherry is a small town — you can explore it entirely on foot. Once, it was a French colony. The next morning, we went to Gandhi Beach, which was only a short walk away. It is the most peaceful and beautiful spot in the city. The road is wide, lined on one side with rows of French-era houses, and on the other side lies the vast sea. However, there is no sandy beach here. Instead, the shoreline is protected by millions of black basalt rocks. You can climb down if you wish, but with caution.In this area, you’ll find an old church, a lighthouse, a jetty, and a museum associated with B. R. Ambedkar’s memory, the airport, the French Embassy, and Sri Aurobindo’s Ashram. Every street here intersects at right angles, so there’s no risk of getting lost.In French, the word Rue means “street” — for example, Rue Mulla Rouge. There are almost no rice hotels or eateries around the Ashram area. It’s actually better to have Tamil food than to look for Bengali hotels — in this heat, Tamil meals are much lighter and more refreshing. On our way back, we visited a temple. People were entering with garlands and offerings in hand. We went too, but empty-handed — for that was not our purpose there.
Rishi Arobindo Ashram:
After taking a bath in the afternoon, we went to Sri Arobindo’s Ashram. It looked much like a small zamindar’s mansion — a two-storied building built in French architectural style, with a hanging balcony in front. The temperature was around 32°C, but since the sea was nearby, there was a cool breeze, so the heat didn’t feel unbearable. It’s a Silence Zone, so talking is strictly prohibited. As soon as we entered, an elderly man wearing dark glasses put a finger to his lips and gestured, “No talking, please.” To the left was the Samadhi (tomb). Another gesture came — to sit down for a while. People from almost every country — China, Japan, America, England, France — were sitting there silently. Looking at them, it felt as though Sri Aurobindo had just passed away today. But honestly, I had come here just to visit and see the place. I’m not ashamed to admit that within about six minutes, we got up. Then we entered the main building. In front was a library, and inside, a bookshop. Aurobindo’s writings have been translated into almost every regional language of India. You pick your chosen book from the shelf, stand in line, and at the cash counter sit two women. Two elderly men assist them by packing the books. I noticed an elderly lady buying books worth nearly ₹3,000. With a smiling face, the cash counter staff were carefully packing her books. She received about half a dozen stickers with Aurobindo’s sayings for free — plus a souvenir carry bag. The next customer’s budget was ₹230. He received only a paper packet. From their accents, it seemed both were Bengalis. The man politely asked, “Didi, can’t I get one or two stickers too?” The lady at the counter replied in English, explaining the High Court rules to him. It felt unpleasant to watch. After all, what fault is it of the sage? The fault lies with those who have turned his name into a business. Komal paid for the books we had chosen, and we came out. There didn’t seem to be anything else worth seeing inside. Right outside, by the roadside, there was a French restaurant. We had a large authentic mozzarella cheese pizza, along with chilled Coca-Cola — and finally, the heat began to fade.
In the evening, we went to the seaside again. After five o’clock, no vehicles are allowed in that area. A fair had sprung up along the seashore — pushcarts lined the promenade, selling all kinds of food. Tea, coffee, phuchka, chaat, pasta — you name it! However, since most of the vendors were poor, they couldn’t understand English or Hindi very well. But I, of course, know almost every Indian language! How far does my linguistic prowess go? Well, as far as the lines of that old Doordarshan national song, “मिले सुर मेरा तुम्हारा/ May our melodies unite/ Mile Sur Mera Tumhara.” What do I mean? Just like that song — saying the same thing in a few different regional languages! For example, “આયે સુરાય તારો મારો બનેયા પરા સુર નેરિહારો/ Aye suray taro maro baneya para sur neriharo,” or “তোমা মোৰ সুৰেৰ মিলনে সৃষ্টি হক চলো একতান/ Tama moro surer milone srishti hok chalo ekatan,” or “... geet adhar madhur tarana mile kade,” and so on. Just by hearing it, you’d know — it’s like a crow trying to sing in a cuckoo’s voice! And yet, it’s with that same confidence that we have traveled from one end of India to the other — to experience the vast diversity of India’s culture and heritage.
Auro Beach:
In Pondicherry, you can rent a bike and roam around freely. A scooter costs only ₹300 for the entire day — fuel is on you. Our destinations for the day were Auro Beach and the Matrimandir. They are only about 10–15 kilometers from the city. When you rent the bike, they even give you a map. We set off on the highway with our bike, Komal sitting behind me. Along the road stood rows of leaning coconut trees and slanted, thatched village houses — truly picturesque. Auro Beach lies in a rural area, far from the main city. You rarely see such a quiet and empty sea beach. There were hardly any shops around; just a few fishing boats lying on the sand. Perhaps the fishermen had already sold their morning catch and gone home. Pondicherry and its surroundings are ideal for a leisurely life. No noise, no chaos — just peace and serenity everywhere. You could easily sit under the shade of a coconut tree and finish an entire novel, or simply sit there for hours on end. However, though a bit late, the western trend has now reached the eastern coast too — the resorts far from the city are far more luxurious and thriving.
Auroville Matrimandir:
Now we were heading to the final stop of our Pondicherry journey — the Matrimandir. We rode a bit further north along the highway and then turned left onto a narrow paved road. The winding asphalt path passed through mangrove-like forests on both sides. I had seen a similar kind of vegetation on the way to Chilika Lake, though those were cashew trees — I don’t know what kind these were. At last, we arrived. Right at the entrance was the parking area — separate sections for bikes, small cars, and buses. From there, it was a short walk. It felt as if we were walking through a botanical garden. Even in the dry red soil, beautiful creepers, shrubs, and small plants swayed gracefully, welcoming every visitor. On the right-hand side stood a small museum. It is worth mentioning here that the Matrimandir or Auroville is not a traditional Indian temple. It was conceived by Mirra Alfassa (Paris, 21 February 1878 – Pondicherry, 17 November 1973), the disciple of Sri Aurobindo — better known to us as “Sree Maa.” In June 1965, she expressed her vision of creating a city where people from all over the world could live together in peace — as citizens of the world, united through mutual understanding and harmony, rising above all forms of religion, politics, and nationalism. The purpose of Auroville is to help humanity realize its essential oneness.
“Universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities. The purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity.” - Sree Maa.
This city is still not fully completed. In 1970, French architect Roger Anger began the construction of the Matrimandir. At the centre of this international township lies a chamber for worship and meditation, surrounded by twelve gardens. In 1971, Sree Maa approved a new design, which included circular water bodies encircling the city. Unfortunately, she did not live to see these water bodies completed. Since 1966, the Government of India, along with UNESCO, has been supporting and sponsoring this experimental city in various ways for the past forty years. The museum was quite impressive. Through various charts, models, and photographs, it presented the history of Auroville in a concise and engaging way. A man approached us and asked if we would like to watch a bioscope show about Auroville — it was about to start soon. Though my mind agreed, my body didn’t — the heat was unbearable. Politely I said, “Sorry, maybe later, I’ll watch it on YouTube.” He smiled and replied, “Then go and see the Matrimandir.” Some people are blessed by curses; for us, it was the opposite! Instead of watching a film for free in an air-conditioned hall, we started walking toward the center of Auroville under the scorching 37°C sun. Every time we met someone — a Chinese or Japanese visitor — we asked the same question: “How far is it?” The answer was always, “Not too far. Ten minutes to walk.” I wondered if kilometres and miles had gone on strike that day — everyone was measuring distance in minutes! A little later, the mystery was solved. There were no milestones on the road to Auroville — only timestones, showing the walking time to different destinations instead of the distance.
Anyway, we finally reached the gold-plated, spherical structure — the Matrimandir. Entry inside was prohibited, so we had to satisfy ourselves by admiring it from afar. A security guard–cum–guide stood there, pointing out the different parts of the Matrimandir and explaining their functions as if showing stars in the sky. On the way back, thankfully, we didn’t have to walk again — there was a free bus service for visitors returning from the site. What a relief! Otherwise, after seeing the “golden egg,” walking all the way back in that heat would have left us grumbling the whole day. At last, it was time to return. After checking out from the hotel, we set out. We had our meal at a roadside hotel and then boarded the bus. Swayed by the cool air of the AC, we dozed off as the bus moved northward along the Coromandel Coast (NH332A/ East Coast Road) — our destination, Chennai.
