Tomorrow is a holyday, atleast for me! And you might be wondering why? Tomorrow is the annual ratha yatra in Puri. And as such, we get a public holiday in Orissa. : - ) To justify the holiday, I will be a part of the yatra again.
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The fluttering flags on the top of the three chariots are still fresh in my mind. It rained that day. The three colorful chariots in the backdrop of clouded sky looked majestic. I will relive the experience tomorrow. The event also commemorates my one years stay at < ?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Bhubaneswar. One year of staying away from Hydie. And I have understood one thing-No place is good or bad.
Each place is just different. And if you enjoy something different, be a vagabond and make the world your home. Me preaching? Gawd! I will stop now.
Tailpiece: The worlds focus will be on Puri tomorrow. Four-Five lakh people will throng the holy town. I will be there to watch the spectacle. The yatra is in the morn. You don
Current Mood: Grand
Current Music: reminisces of the cymbals in the yatra
We live in a society of prejudices. What comes to mind when you think of a long tedious train journey? A beautiful stranger who ends up being your new soul mate. Of exchanged phone numbers and a lifetime of friendship/love? Most are not so lucky or so I thought when I scanned the reservation chart. No girl in her twenties in a distance of 20 meters. With a 'why does it only happen to me' kind of thoughts, I got into the train. < ?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
An old couple was sitting near the door. The woman looked very fragile and wrinkled with a heavily tatooed forehead and a pierced nose/ears with heavy jewellery hanging from her nose, onto her lips. If she had been 16 instead of being sixty, she would have been the heppest girl around. The old man, was wearing the famous gangman khaki bermudas. Don't worry if you have never heard about them. I have just coined the term. I am talking about the RSS kind of chaddiss that railway gangman wear.
I was sitting in my berth. There were too many people. Ten or thereabouts. They assured me that they would get down in the next station. Trains are one place where you get lots of unsolicited information. I smiled and got engrossed in a novel. They spoke about a lot of things...interesting things. I listened silently. When the next stop came, all of them got down.
The old couple came and sat before me. I noticed a cigar in the old mans ear. The eyes were listless. Years of hardwork on the railway tracks had robbed his eyes of any life whatsoever. He never told me he works with the railways. But I somehow knew. You can always make out. At least I can always make out. The old woman was lost in her own world. Beside her was a plastic bag made out of chocolate wrappers. The bag looked cute.
There were no talks for almost two hours. The couple never spoke to each other. The old man kept staring into in the window. I got buried into my book. What could I have talked with an old couple? I guess our lives twines never meet that we could have something in common to talk about.
Where are you going sir?
aahh....me? I am going to < ?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Hyderabad.
Ok.
That bag beside you....is that made of chocolate wrappers?
Yes, my wife made it. Isn't it cute? She is very creative you know.
Yes.....it is very very cute.
For the first time, the old lady smiled. Just a hint of a smile actually. And she went back to her brooding.
And then....we were silent for another hour. Three hours into the journey...the regular visitors of every train in India, the eunuchs, entered the train. I hurriedly searched for some change and instinctively put my cell phone in my back pocket, no idea why I did that.
I gave them a five rupee coin. The old man refused to give anything. Made a comment, which I believe was an obscene joke and laughed at it himself. When they left, he said something to me and laughed again. It wasn't clear what he said, but i smiled too...out of politeness.
And then our conversation took off. I understood, in spite of his age, he was a normal guy with his share of youthful brashness. Bryan Adams would have been proud. While all this was going on...the old woman was still staring into nothingness, unconcerned about the whole world around her.
I work in the railways.
Oh!! I see.
I am a gangman.
When will this train reach Hyderabad?
This? Hahaha...let me tell you, nobody knows. It all depends on the mood of the driver. 10 am tomorrow and you may as well find yourself in Warangal or in Hyderabad. One never knows.
Hmm....
How old are you sir?
I am 22.
You remind me of my grandson, He must be around your age. Very intelligent. Runs his own grocery shop in my village.
Oh! Good. Please call me Sriram. You are my grandfather
Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: The corrs-over a cup of coffee we borrowed heaven!!
This day last Year!< ?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
My blog turns one year old!
Somedays back, I had written a post titled
Current Mood: Happy Indeed!
Current Music: pehla nasha
