Railgaadi (Train)

Since my childhood, I have been completely amazed by the trains. Amazed by the way they connect people and places and amazed by the size and possibilities of them and amazed by the way they work and by the fact that how much a common person depends on them. I remember, when I was a child, my father wouldn't let me stand at the gate of the coach and get off at stations (considering the fact that I was one hell of a bastard during my childhood). At that time, I so desperately wanted to grow up. And then, I grew up and I did what I wanted to do. I would stand on the gate for long hours, watching everything pass by. I don't know why, but for some reason, standing on a racing train's door gives me a feeling of immense power and freedom,
a feeling I rarely get. Standing on a train's gate while it is moving at 100km/hr and seeing it turn is amazing. All that fast blowing wind that falls on your face and takes away your aroma into the thin air to let it finally vanish is excruciating. If you have not stood on a pacing train's door ever before, you are most certainly having issues. And if that was not all for issues, I have a hefty count of friends that have never been on a train ever before. I sometimes don't buy the fact that there actually are people who have never traveled in a train in their whole god damn life. And then you call yourself sane huh? How can one stay away from such a humongous phenomenon?

The only thing that I hate about trains is that one can hardly sleep in it. At least I cannot. But, though I may contradict with myself, it is also the best thing (sometimes). I wake up through the night, looking outside the window. Mind you that I didn't say seeing because seeing is watching something and registering it in your mind. Looking is... well, just looking. Yeah, so I look outside the window whole night- into the eternity, small and big towns, woods, farms and fields. And think, not about the farms, but about everything else not even remotely related to them. Now don't tell me you haven't been philosophical about life at some point while traveling (or is it only me?). I think about my past events, the dark ones and the bright ones. About people who are in my life and about people who were in my life. About things I would do in future. Here, I share a little secret with you guys. After every train journey of mine (which are always quite big), I have a brand new business plan that would shake the world (though none of them see the light of the day) After all this thinking, I shift to watching movies and all and yeah, sometimes writing too. This one is written while I am on train.

It so happened that I didn't got a reservation in an AC coach in the train back to home this time and by the call of acute helplessness of events, here I am sitting in a sleeper coach after an eternity. Since past 3-4 years, the only time that I have been in a sleeper coach is to escort some illiterate guy in it. If you have never been in a sleeper coach before go be there. But on second thoughts, don't go. Wait. Whatever! Do what you deem right; I hold no responsibility for your actions. And for the sake of readers who wither away from even the name of the train, I may try and explain what goes in there. It is not easy mind you. Many veterans have tried to explain that scenario and I hold a social obligation of matching up to them. Let’s see if I can.

Every sleeper class coach of the Indian Railways train is almost the same. Loud noises of babies and children crying and weeping echoes almost during 50% of your journey. The Oh! So sweet smell of freedom (human wastes) makes you feel rejuvenated (sick in pants) all the time. People smoke and drink (both of which are not allowed) on their respective seats like it’s one of their yoga routines. The compartments are full of people traveling without ticket as if the train is some fucking property of theirs. Curses and slangs are chanted so frequently that you soon forget they actually were curses and slangs. Using a washroom (if you find a vacant one that is) is a task roughly on the level of Fear Factor's array of tasks. But then, finding a cleaner one is even more difficult. Patches of beetelnut juice on the floor are so many that you can count them and pass a good amount of time (me and my cousin came out with this game of counting patches when we were a bit young). So yeah! This is pretty much what it is . I know it sounds really scary but it is not (it's scarier).

The moment of truth that I faced while traveling this time was that a middle aged couple with two young daughters (probably 8 and 5) were traveling in the same compartment. I was sitting on a window seat and reading, when one of the two girls (the elder one) called me and said "Uncle, let me sit near the window" (What?! Uncle? She was so not getting the window seat now!). I was too involved in reading to pay attention to her childhood fantasies. She was quite a brat and irritated me a lot. I wasn't really impressed by her cuteness and she chanting words like alien attack and transform shape (Ben Ten, you have ruined the younger ones of my country! You owe me one) were not helping either. There was no way I was leaving window seat. Sad by my denial, She did what every helpless child does, call her parents for help. Now, his father was gray enough to realize that I am not one of the regular visitors of the sleeper coach and only a ticket problem must have led me here in the sleeper coach. He on the other hand was not ...rich. There is no nicer way to put it. There is never a nicer way to put the harsh realities of someone's life in front of him. He cannot ask a man superior than himself in education and money to just get up and make place for her daughter. Who is he after all? He asked his daughter to shut up and sit down where she finds place. I then did something that I am really proud of. I got up and shifted and made place for the little girl solely to let that girl believe that her father is a hero. Her father's gaze met mine and I reassured him of one thing - "There is still a little bit of good left in this world!" Until next time,

Adios!

Pehla (First)

Life has always been about first timers. The magic lies in the first occurrence itself. Second time, though how delightful it may seem, our mind knows that it knows what's happening. The first rain, the first kiss, first baby, first movie in a theater, first motor bike, first day in college. If someone doesn't stop me, I can go on and on about it.

The funny part is though that how much special we want everything, that is our first time, to be. It is like a continuous quest with ourselves. A quest to hold that moment in time when it is happening and to make it as picture perfect as we can. Not to mention we miserably fail most of the times. Picture perfect is a myth. I am no different when it comes to make my first experience worth remembering. I too want my every first experience to be as perfect as it possibly can be. But that's not what actually happens. You want to know how was my first day at college? First up an embarrassing welcome by The Bastards (I lovably call my teachers that :-) ), then an accident on the road (not that I got injured), a guy from my college (who in future becomes a jerk who calls me for help every now and then) takes me up for a tease and takes a heavy treat from me and the day ends with a mild ragging by Fourthies (mild as I have seen way worse than what they can possibly dream of). Not so special for a first timer eh? The second day though was a miracle. How? Well, let's just keep it as a secret for a while.

I find it really funny that the people who walk around with camera on every bloody occasion of their life have no idea of what they are actually missing with their naked eyes. So much for being picture perfect. And just as I was losing hopes on every first timers, a funny thing happened this morning. Read on.

Since I was very young, I have always missed a chance of experiencing the first rain of the season. And just to assume and know what rain means to me, go here. Though I couldn't recall any reason for that, the point is I have never done that. My mom always says not to bathe in the first few rains of the monsoon but what a screwdriver does to screws, Yash Aswani does to rules. I once took a bath in one of the first few rains and guess what? I ended up having scratches all over my body. Did I care? Hell no! Still, I always missed the first on. Coming to the point. It's early morning for the world and late night for me. And guess what? It's raining. There is a lovely song struck to my ears, I am writing and enjoying rain with a hot cup of tea. This is the first rain of the season and I took a quick bath too. Feeling delightful. Got a relief after all those days of heat wave.

So you see, sometimes waiting for things to happen and not pushing them too hard may get you where you want to go. Not everything in life can be made picture perfect, but changing the definitions of how much picture perfect you want everything to be will remove the extra pressure. What else is life all about than adjustments? Until next time,

Adios.

Birhaa (Separation)

Every time there are holidays, I am the one amongst my friends and acquaintances  who goes last from Greater Noida (probably). Almost always a day later. And the feeling of bidding everyone good bye and then staying alone after that is really draining. I may announce in annoyance that it has been 9 years since I am studying away from home, but still, a human heart is a human heart. And what a human heart needs most during these times is a company. A company that is good. But heck, at this time, I would even talk to Rakhi Sawant for hours. It's not that I have a problem staying alone, rather I am very good at that art, but living without problems is not always living peacefully mind you. The roads are deserted as if a curfew has recently been announced. Ansal Plaza is.. well, empty. Feels very strange, roaming in a building that is so big yet so empty (and they crave about space huh?)!  Familiar faces in crowds are absent (Wait! You said crowd?).  Nothing seems good enough - Games, Food, Movies, Songs, and another pretty things not worth mentioning. I swear I don't miss my home too much, not enough to crave me meet them. You might call me a spineless jerk, but this is a truth. I have been raised over pain, and pain makes you strong. It's just that I desperately need to get surrounded by a few familiar faces. I am a bit lonely.

Everything in life has an essence of separation. An air of dislocation. Probably, separation is the biggest truth human heart has ever discovered after death. In a way, death itself is a separation, from this mad-mad world. Even after years of staying away from home, I feel butterflies in my stomach when I have to leave a place I am already settled in to a place that I would have to settle in. If I stay a week at home,I get creepy even by the thoughts of leaving it. You know, great food, reputation, mother, siblings and peace. Specially the sunsets. During my stay at home, I ride my bike across the fields of rice and cane and watch the sun set. Beautiful moment I tell you. Leaving all this is not comforting. And about Greater Noida, well I love the overdose of freedom I get here. Freedom is a lethal weapon and I know how to use it wisely. *wink*

I have seen(felt) separation from many friends over the years but still haven't got used to it. Every time it is a similar kind of confusion yet very different in itself. I dread the day when I would be leaving college, but lets not think about it right now. 
Separation is painful, but it is bearable, I know . Life moves on, and it carries you along. A journey where you meet companions, and then you leave them at some point or the other. This is a never ending process of destiny. God's personal 'so called' master plan. The dirtiest humor of fate. Strike a smile and whistle a song. That will make the journey a bit exiting.

Happy Holidays! :) Until next time,

Adios! ;)

Khamoshi (Silence)

'Well timed silence hath more eloquence than speech!'

I believe silence has a language of its own. Everyone does. Life is very good at giving examples I know. We all have been given some of them. Silence is much more than not talking. It may inspire haunt, at the same time it may show love. You can express anger with it, you can convey sorrow with it. What water is to colours is what silence is to expressions. We human beings have an inborn talent of 'listening' silence, especially of those whom we love. Mothers are pretty good at the game. I remember a night when I was shit depressed and needed to talk to someone badly. I called my mom and when she picked up I wasn't able to speak. I was choking. She, after ten seconds, understood that something is wrong. "Is something wrong beta?" and there I was, crying like a five year old. Yeah I know that is a sissy thing to do but when you are in a dangling state of mind, even the smallest stroke of love is capable enough to break you down. If, God forbid, ever in your life you meet depression, it won't leave(if it eventually does leave you because I believe some part of it always stays) you with fond memories to cherish with. Sadness apart. Here is a contrast of silence at play.


1. A silence of hatred -
Alcohol again. I am yet to categorize alcohol as an enemy or a friend. The other night's party ended up in a fight that was pretty-fucking bad. And when we returned to our senses (and hangover free state of mind), there were bruises, not on our bodies but on our hearts. A part of me died that night. Things like these make you believe that world is a bad place to be in. After spending a whole day not talking to each other we reached a point where we had to draw conclusions. It's hard to know people very well but not talk to them. It kills to feel hatred towards someone whom you loved until last night. There we were in a room, not talking. Staying mum. Pin drop silence was given run for its money. Silence, at its brief best. You could hear the clock ticking as if loudspeakers were connected to it. As if everyone was asking each other burning questions, without uttering a word. Things are pretty much better now, but that moment is the one that made me write this. I so desperately wanted to let it out on my keyboard (times of pen are coming to an end). Life is strange; it's sadly funny to see how ego overcomes love.

2. A silence of love -

Lectures are boring. Professors suck. It was yet another boring lecture at my IIT-JEE coaching in Kota. I wouldn't have been sitting in the class if it wasn't for her. Yes, there were times when I was hopelessly in love. I always took a seat that made it really easy for me to see her across the other row clearly. If smiles were a commodity to be sold in retail, she would have been a millionaire. If you ask me what is the definition for cuteness?  I would show you her face. Dimples, like pits so deep, it would put Indian roads to shame. There was a hint of melancholy on her face, and if it didn't kill me to see her being sad, I would have put that expression on her face forever. Seeing her inspired me to be a better person, a better human being. But I never told her a damn thing. I never gained enough gut to do it. I used to sort of stalk her. I use to stare at her all day long during lectures (I didn't realized it then that how much foolish was that to do). She didn't take it in a very good fashion. Hell! Which girl would? But that lecture, that day, was different. It was one of the many defining moments of my life. I was staring at her and after a moment I found her staring at me. Our eyes met. Our gazes were attached to each other for really long (25 minutes). I was speaking without 'talking'. She smiled for me, for the very first time and kept smiling. I felt out of this world. That day is still one of the most special days of my life. Love needs no language they say, and I couldn't agree more! What happened afterwards is a secret to keep (or to be shared when the right time comes). *wink*


Liked it? Hated it? Tell me via comments. Feedback is valuable. Until next time,

Adios.

Rumaal(Handkerchief)

It's holiday times. Semester has end. Everyone is already gone home. I am also on my way and would probably reach tomorrow(seeing the condition of the fog, nothing yet can be predicted). Today, while packing my stuff, something very strange happened. A feeling struck me in a surprise. Doesn't it happens sometimes? A thought, a feeling, a fact hits you very sharply and after that you cannot get rid of it for hours. It keep revolving inside your head for quite an amount of time.How differently and randomly it happens though is a completely different issue we are not going talk about today.

Why don't I give a little bit of backdrop so that you are familiar with what we are talking about today! I had to buy a pack of handkerchiefs because I am falling short of them. Or to be very precise, I have none of them. And like every other work, buying some handkerchiefs also remains pending(Exams I tell you!). I still don't have them, because of the lazy ass I have become.During the last holidays(the Diwali one),I asked mum(mom) to keep some of them in the packing.After I came back and emptied my packing,I searched for handkerchiefs in my almirah, but found none. May be she forgot to keep them. But that rarely happens, happened never in my case. Well, seems like her old age is now showing effects. Wake up! Flashback ends!


Back to packing my bags today,while packing in some t-shirts which were buried now for almost a month inside my cabinet(you rarely use them in winters), I found a group of handkerchiefs between the t-shirts with my initials written with on them with a permanent marker.Immediately i got carried away by a wave of thoughts. I said it never happens in my case! I was so overwhelmed by the thought that I couldn't stop my self from writing this. The love a mother can shower on her kid is in-measurable by any scale probably made on earth, if a scale to measure love does exists anyways! And after a long and tiresome and gruesome day, here I am, in the front of my computer screen after so many days, not watching a movie or listening songs (or you know..), but doing what i love to do the most - Write!


Adios! :-)