Glass windows.
It is cold, the blanket keeps me warm and there is no need to eat ground nuts because nobody sells those here.
It is quite and everybody is listening to music from their laptops and ipods. No music in the air still.
Food is good and it is the same chicken curry meals for the dinner again.
Very polite commuters and each respecting the other’s privacy like a sage.
Everybody smiles at one another and talks about which business trip or who awaits for them at their stations. Each show their pearly set of teeth with the most agreeable smile.
Nobody gossips or exchanges food, isn’t it uncivilised?
Noone laughs from the bottom of his lungs as it might disturb the peace.
Even the baby refuses to cry.
The compartment looks like a boring camping site with multiple tents zipped and locked from inside.
The only view and real is the window to my right. Glass window, I waved at those children about to piss on the railway tracks, those gypsy women strutting in their rainbow skirts, and those young boys with their caps turned around blew me air kisses and I returned them. They don’t live within any glass windows.
Where are the eunuchs? I miss them. The compartment lacks a character.
Where are the bhujia walas, this room is too sweet.
Where am I? It is little too comfortable right now.
I didn’t comb my hair today because no wind passed through the glass windows.
Its is past midnight and the silence is maintained diligently.
Somebody should act alive. I am knocking at the glass window.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
In the train of thoughts.
Marriage.
The mehendi still smelling fresh and the rich brown diagrams still running beautiful without a blotch, uninterrupted.
He doesn’t want her to step on the floor without her sandals. He kneels down almost touching his face on the floorboard and takes them out with a smile that should last forever.
They giggle a lot, he tickles her a lot. Love is blind eh? They should stay blind forever.
Love in a marriage is over rated sometimes and misunderstood as love in the beginning. Why does many marriages fall apart then?
They are a brand new couple, living its honeymoon period. Will they attend to each others problem with same care like they do while they feed each other chappatis now.
I do not know.
Then I caught his face in her eyes and wondered.
When its raining out in the street, will he go fetch her across the street with an umbrella?.
When after two three babies, will he tenderly kiss her belly which is strained?
When she makes his breakfast, lunch for him in the morning and spends the day thinking what to cook for dinner, will he feed her love back?
When she grows older, fatter and uglier, will he still find her as desirable as now?
When they have a disagreement, will he come forward for an agreement or will her feet which now refuse to walk on a floor will succumb to broken beer glasses?
I do not know…
He draws the curtain and there is no more giggling.
Marriage 2
I woke up and the curtains were flying. They had left and an old couple ushered in from the next station.
The grandma had a toothless smile and the grandpa wore a crispy white kurta pajama.
They didn’t make much sound or giggling.
He talks sternly in a language I do not understand but I comprehended that he didn’t want her to eat the ladoos.
Grandma rarely talks, she does her toothless smile and eats half of the ladoo and gives half to him. She doesn’t feed him and he doesn’t tickle her.
He knows that he belongs to her more than he possesses her.
Grandma wanted to leave for the restroom, she just wore his slippers.
He need not bend.
When it took a while, he went and waited for her at the bathroom door.
Is this love or beyond it?
I do not know.
They stagger back to their berths, jostling.
The mehendi still smelling fresh and the rich brown diagrams still running beautiful without a blotch, uninterrupted.
He doesn’t want her to step on the floor without her sandals. He kneels down almost touching his face on the floorboard and takes them out with a smile that should last forever.
They giggle a lot, he tickles her a lot. Love is blind eh? They should stay blind forever.
Love in a marriage is over rated sometimes and misunderstood as love in the beginning. Why does many marriages fall apart then?
They are a brand new couple, living its honeymoon period. Will they attend to each others problem with same care like they do while they feed each other chappatis now.
I do not know.
Then I caught his face in her eyes and wondered.
When its raining out in the street, will he go fetch her across the street with an umbrella?.
When after two three babies, will he tenderly kiss her belly which is strained?
When she makes his breakfast, lunch for him in the morning and spends the day thinking what to cook for dinner, will he feed her love back?
When she grows older, fatter and uglier, will he still find her as desirable as now?
When they have a disagreement, will he come forward for an agreement or will her feet which now refuse to walk on a floor will succumb to broken beer glasses?
I do not know…
He draws the curtain and there is no more giggling.
Marriage 2
I woke up and the curtains were flying. They had left and an old couple ushered in from the next station.
The grandma had a toothless smile and the grandpa wore a crispy white kurta pajama.
They didn’t make much sound or giggling.
He talks sternly in a language I do not understand but I comprehended that he didn’t want her to eat the ladoos.
Grandma rarely talks, she does her toothless smile and eats half of the ladoo and gives half to him. She doesn’t feed him and he doesn’t tickle her.
He knows that he belongs to her more than he possesses her.
Grandma wanted to leave for the restroom, she just wore his slippers.
He need not bend.
When it took a while, he went and waited for her at the bathroom door.
Is this love or beyond it?
I do not know.
They stagger back to their berths, jostling.
Transaction ID: 0081401518, Train no./ Name: 2611/Nizamuddin Delhi Garib Rath.
Date of journey: 20/12/2008, Scheduled departure: 06:10
From: Chennai Central (MAS)
To: Chennai Central (MAS)
I travelled a lot today and I am stranded at the same place.
I was never a “kamakshi”. She is a girl from my class. She carries safety pins to a flower pot in her bag. She knows when could be the foreseeable test, she stitches her daily schedules and she might even carry mittens lest it snows in Chennai. She is my worst nightmare when I think how embarrassingly unprepared I am.
I have many a times a voice murmuring in my head “ tsering, oye tsering, try to be little meticulous if not attain the insurmountable kamakshi’s altitude of military like discipline, strategy and preparedness.
It is really not necessary I carried the conviction and I have been performing well, decently in this unsettling life of mine.
SO, today of all the remaining days in my life, I did the unforgivable thing and may be may be.. the whole universe was against my suicidal attempt of trespassing into an unknown territory of lets be frigging over cautious mood.
Oh dear, I hate to begin the ordeal which I am still running now. Avoiding beating around the many bushes, simply putting it, I missed my train today. I got up at 6:30 am and and and it is now 4;21 pm. It has been a chaos. To add to it, I have a nagging cold, from perennial sneezing, to being enveloped wit fever and a hammering body aches.
Introspecting,
I did a Kamakshi act. And it could be due to that rock on movie I was watching till late night, the second half of it or phuntsok with whom I was chatting at 3 am. And most probably its me.
Packing takes great decision making skill and time. I wanted to travel light with just the bare requirements. Only three underwears so that I can squeeze in my grey boots and that brown sweater and the books. It took a long while before I realised it was already past midnight and I had less than 5 hours to catch some sleep.
I saw the rock on dvd again, the unfinished half. And ( oh my god!! Tabu is here! Oh my god. Oh my god.. I need to slap myself to know if m not dreaming.., let me go run to her and say how I adore her. Gosh she is sitting right next to my table.. okai.. will it be intruding her privacy? Her friend left her and she is sitting all alone there.. why aren’t people going there to say HI!... this coffee shop is little harsh on thin wallet and do these people think its beneath their royal air to approach and say how much you appreciate her art?.., stop gawking tsering.. tapping tapping my fingers* okai.. ) oh my my my… yaaaaaaaaay..I shook hands with Tabu, she has lost a lot of weight, she has lovely eyes. Oh clumsy me, I went with the napkin tissue to get her autograph. The napkin tore off. So I quickly ran to get a piece of paper, she signed. And I said, “ you might have heard this thousand times, but I truly admire your art, you make it look so real and natural ,” and quickly added that I have seen her astitva movie and was stammering a bit and carried on and pleaded that she should keep doing all these meaningful and wonderful movies. I told her that I do a bit of theatre and how I wish I can be like her in the art. She asked me if I stay here ( may be she thought I was not from India ) I quickly added that I am born and brought up in India. She said thank you several times and “how kind of you “ to my compliments. How I wished her friend got stuck in the loo or sprained her ankles while coming back to that table so that I could chat up more. Yet, I didn’t want to plant myself there till eternity and be a pest. My parting words were “ please carry on doing the wonderful work and artists like you make bollywood bearable.”
I ran back to my table. And now I am staring at her from the corner of my eyes as I type.
Phewww.. wat a day!!
Back to my kamakshi act..
And I saw the rock on dvd. And it was past midnight. A cunning design developed persuing me to attempt sheer preparedness.
I decided not to sleep the night lest I may never get up on time and miss my ticket to delhi. The unfinished second half movie was encouraging in this plot.
By 2 am,I watched the movie whole. I had couple of hours left to do other mindless things to while away the time. I went online and met my long lost chat pal phuntsok. We have had a rough ride in life and there were things which we could relate to each other and our peculiar tastes in life. Started discussing whereabouts, my impending xmas holiday in dharamasala and the early train to catch, Mumbai terror attacks, arundhati roy, weather and etc..
My internet got snapped and I reclined and laid my little drowsy head on the bed.
“tsering tsering… ayoo.. its 630 am. Dee.. wake up” my roomie woke me up. She questioned my bewildered eyes” when is your train, maa”..
“Oh my god” a whisper….. followed by a numbing shock, a few cries and handicapped.
Then the real drama followed. I ran up and down. Called thousand friends who can be of help. “not possible dear, to get reservation for today’s train” was the chant.
And I had to leave today. No matter what.. I have solid 14 days of fun and family time waiting for me at dharamsala. My bus ticket to dharamsala from delhi was also booked. There can not be any time lapse.
I ran to the station, stood up in long winding snake like queue. There was not a single seat available, hopelessness was in abundance. I swear, I sincerely wished I was a bird. Just flap my wings and take off right away, leave behind the train which I had missed in the morning.
I ran up and down multiple floors, spoke to around 5 different people in a minute hoping to meet a miracle.
It was past noon time and home seemed light years away.
If there is a will, there is a way. I had to leave today. Something ought to be done.
I braved myself and bought the unreserved compartment ticket, assuring myself that I will survive 2 nights sitting cross legged on a wooden bench with other million people crammed inside a tiny cabin. I had to go today. No matter what!
It’s a scary thought, my fever started rising as I nibbled on samosas and had to leave the station to a place where I can rest my sore body for a while. Hostel, I didn’t want to return. I needed some peace and not sympathies which will do no good to the situation.
Me and sulking sister dragged ourselves to a coffee garden where they don’t play boyband songs to create an ambience. We ate without appetite and drank hot bitter coffee. I took my medicines and we started cursing ourselves without pointing the frail fingers at each other.
Then my friend called up and gave me a news demanding mixed reaction. “ second tier AC and 5000 Rs for two”… and yes “ today’s train at 7;15 pm. Grand trunk.”
It is too grand a commute for me after already spending quite a bit on the train I had missed in the morn and the probable another 1000 rs for bus ticket to dharamsala which I wil have to rebook.
Tapping our fingers and scratching our head.. my friend expressed the “lucky you guys” statement as it is generally impossible to secure a reserved seat on the current train.
I thought of all those shoes I bought, some of which I still haven’t worn and mostly likely will remain cold in its boxes. I tried not to think anymore after that, it leads only to erosion of the situation and more chaos in my head. Oh lord, why am even writing about the shoes here?
I called my dad.
Everything came to a standstill. “come home sweethearts” . Peace.
My sister and I accepted that we do not deserve this another super luxurious transportation. Another 5000 rs and in total we were blowing out close to 10000 rs for an upward journey to dharamsala. We will have to rebook our bus tickets to home.
I am going home today however.
My sister will play her guitar and I will be standing next to her with a hat trying to recover our dignity and ourselves from this ordeal.
Date of journey: 20/12/2008, Scheduled departure: 06:10
From: Chennai Central (MAS)
To: Chennai Central (MAS)
I travelled a lot today and I am stranded at the same place.
I was never a “kamakshi”. She is a girl from my class. She carries safety pins to a flower pot in her bag. She knows when could be the foreseeable test, she stitches her daily schedules and she might even carry mittens lest it snows in Chennai. She is my worst nightmare when I think how embarrassingly unprepared I am.
I have many a times a voice murmuring in my head “ tsering, oye tsering, try to be little meticulous if not attain the insurmountable kamakshi’s altitude of military like discipline, strategy and preparedness.
It is really not necessary I carried the conviction and I have been performing well, decently in this unsettling life of mine.
SO, today of all the remaining days in my life, I did the unforgivable thing and may be may be.. the whole universe was against my suicidal attempt of trespassing into an unknown territory of lets be frigging over cautious mood.
Oh dear, I hate to begin the ordeal which I am still running now. Avoiding beating around the many bushes, simply putting it, I missed my train today. I got up at 6:30 am and and and it is now 4;21 pm. It has been a chaos. To add to it, I have a nagging cold, from perennial sneezing, to being enveloped wit fever and a hammering body aches.
Introspecting,
I did a Kamakshi act. And it could be due to that rock on movie I was watching till late night, the second half of it or phuntsok with whom I was chatting at 3 am. And most probably its me.
Packing takes great decision making skill and time. I wanted to travel light with just the bare requirements. Only three underwears so that I can squeeze in my grey boots and that brown sweater and the books. It took a long while before I realised it was already past midnight and I had less than 5 hours to catch some sleep.
I saw the rock on dvd again, the unfinished half. And ( oh my god!! Tabu is here! Oh my god. Oh my god.. I need to slap myself to know if m not dreaming.., let me go run to her and say how I adore her. Gosh she is sitting right next to my table.. okai.. will it be intruding her privacy? Her friend left her and she is sitting all alone there.. why aren’t people going there to say HI!... this coffee shop is little harsh on thin wallet and do these people think its beneath their royal air to approach and say how much you appreciate her art?.., stop gawking tsering.. tapping tapping my fingers* okai.. ) oh my my my… yaaaaaaaaay..I shook hands with Tabu, she has lost a lot of weight, she has lovely eyes. Oh clumsy me, I went with the napkin tissue to get her autograph. The napkin tore off. So I quickly ran to get a piece of paper, she signed. And I said, “ you might have heard this thousand times, but I truly admire your art, you make it look so real and natural ,” and quickly added that I have seen her astitva movie and was stammering a bit and carried on and pleaded that she should keep doing all these meaningful and wonderful movies. I told her that I do a bit of theatre and how I wish I can be like her in the art. She asked me if I stay here ( may be she thought I was not from India ) I quickly added that I am born and brought up in India. She said thank you several times and “how kind of you “ to my compliments. How I wished her friend got stuck in the loo or sprained her ankles while coming back to that table so that I could chat up more. Yet, I didn’t want to plant myself there till eternity and be a pest. My parting words were “ please carry on doing the wonderful work and artists like you make bollywood bearable.”
I ran back to my table. And now I am staring at her from the corner of my eyes as I type.
Phewww.. wat a day!!
Back to my kamakshi act..
And I saw the rock on dvd. And it was past midnight. A cunning design developed persuing me to attempt sheer preparedness.
I decided not to sleep the night lest I may never get up on time and miss my ticket to delhi. The unfinished second half movie was encouraging in this plot.
By 2 am,I watched the movie whole. I had couple of hours left to do other mindless things to while away the time. I went online and met my long lost chat pal phuntsok. We have had a rough ride in life and there were things which we could relate to each other and our peculiar tastes in life. Started discussing whereabouts, my impending xmas holiday in dharamasala and the early train to catch, Mumbai terror attacks, arundhati roy, weather and etc..
My internet got snapped and I reclined and laid my little drowsy head on the bed.
“tsering tsering… ayoo.. its 630 am. Dee.. wake up” my roomie woke me up. She questioned my bewildered eyes” when is your train, maa”..
“Oh my god” a whisper….. followed by a numbing shock, a few cries and handicapped.
Then the real drama followed. I ran up and down. Called thousand friends who can be of help. “not possible dear, to get reservation for today’s train” was the chant.
And I had to leave today. No matter what.. I have solid 14 days of fun and family time waiting for me at dharamsala. My bus ticket to dharamsala from delhi was also booked. There can not be any time lapse.
I ran to the station, stood up in long winding snake like queue. There was not a single seat available, hopelessness was in abundance. I swear, I sincerely wished I was a bird. Just flap my wings and take off right away, leave behind the train which I had missed in the morning.
I ran up and down multiple floors, spoke to around 5 different people in a minute hoping to meet a miracle.
It was past noon time and home seemed light years away.
If there is a will, there is a way. I had to leave today. Something ought to be done.
I braved myself and bought the unreserved compartment ticket, assuring myself that I will survive 2 nights sitting cross legged on a wooden bench with other million people crammed inside a tiny cabin. I had to go today. No matter what!
It’s a scary thought, my fever started rising as I nibbled on samosas and had to leave the station to a place where I can rest my sore body for a while. Hostel, I didn’t want to return. I needed some peace and not sympathies which will do no good to the situation.
Me and sulking sister dragged ourselves to a coffee garden where they don’t play boyband songs to create an ambience. We ate without appetite and drank hot bitter coffee. I took my medicines and we started cursing ourselves without pointing the frail fingers at each other.
Then my friend called up and gave me a news demanding mixed reaction. “ second tier AC and 5000 Rs for two”… and yes “ today’s train at 7;15 pm. Grand trunk.”
It is too grand a commute for me after already spending quite a bit on the train I had missed in the morn and the probable another 1000 rs for bus ticket to dharamsala which I wil have to rebook.
Tapping our fingers and scratching our head.. my friend expressed the “lucky you guys” statement as it is generally impossible to secure a reserved seat on the current train.
I thought of all those shoes I bought, some of which I still haven’t worn and mostly likely will remain cold in its boxes. I tried not to think anymore after that, it leads only to erosion of the situation and more chaos in my head. Oh lord, why am even writing about the shoes here?
I called my dad.
Everything came to a standstill. “come home sweethearts” . Peace.
My sister and I accepted that we do not deserve this another super luxurious transportation. Another 5000 rs and in total we were blowing out close to 10000 rs for an upward journey to dharamsala. We will have to rebook our bus tickets to home.
I am going home today however.
My sister will play her guitar and I will be standing next to her with a hat trying to recover our dignity and ourselves from this ordeal.
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