Alive…I am…

Last few days down the line have been quite a humdrum life.

My clime…my people…my home…every bit today is a nuance of yesterday. But the diurnal living has always been the same…that’s why they call it ‘routine’.

But ‘the humdrum thing’ has loosened up a tad. Now, it’s no longer a peril.

Rewinding the memory cassette by a month is sufficed to get me goose bumps and to douse my temples with the blobs of sweat rolling down.

Speculate what ‘the humdrum thing’ was…

It was a life, no cut above that of a railway TTE.

If not the fling is to be alleged, may be the catastrophe should bear all the blotches.

It tees-off there, when I was gearing up to get to my training place.

“Got to know something…the place is a honeymoon spot”, we morons gabbed akin things.

Next few days were ‘railgadi-railgadi’ type.

Don’t worry…I will elucidate the ‘railgadi…’term. It is a spell when you are either at some unkempt railway station or a head among the disheveled commuters.

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Next few days were ‘railgadi-railgadi’ type.

Have I aped the previous statement???

Heaven’s sake!

How can I do that?

…may be you are not sure of my wits, but I earnestly believe that I have a working model of what they call ‘brain’. Asunder, reciting the same line oft-times like ‘INDIA TV’ is not my cup of tea. Albeit, I am oblivion of my possessing ‘THE GAJANI thing’ which could make me forget what waters I was splashing. But for now, I assure you of no such blunder.

Does it imprint you with the same question as it engraves somewhere in my head??

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Where does the training interlude escape if it is back-to-back ‘railgadi…’?

Actually, the day we landed at the training place, the day training was wrapped up. They were so generous that they kicked our asses the same day promising to dole out the certificates with just a week of effort at the end.

We were gleeful. Life had never been such a hunky dory before. All that was coveted was accomplished in a jiffy.

But was it the time to binge???

With Indian railways unfailingly inundated with passengers, you can’t even fantasize getting a reservation just a day before.

It wasn’t stupendous to know that neither the place had a railway station nor had any cyber cafes.

So, what next??

For the next two hours, I was busy banging my dad’s head to get me some ticket, somehow, some nexus.

Phones kept buzzing…

Finally he got a connection.

Job was half doneJ

Wait…

It was really half doneL

Ticket was just up to half way (12 hours) and then (next 12 hours) I had to see how to come. On foot, not permitted!

The second phase…being the ‘next 12 hours’ one is what that makes me so white.

I snapped up a general ticket as the very first step towards aggravations.

I lugged on the general wagon stepping a pace closer to quietus.

All my foolhardiness was now up and all that happened had no part played by me.

1^st scene:

I, standing at the door and my stance suggesting as if I am to be clicked for ‘wills lifestyle’.

It’s really open and airy out there. But it isn’t some legacy that you could cherish all time. The Darwin’s ‘survival of the fittest’ theory applies here too. A few pushes and you are rammed among the heads hustling inside, the heads of hunks, drunks, punks and the women who holler hard enough to be heard in the whole wagon. Not to mention, the same I was subjected to.

But I never expected that I could e such a ‘kamjhor kadi’.

A few shoves and I was in the toilet sated on the wash-basin that too shared with a punk.

To uber exasperation, some man used the toilet to pee saying ‘don’t be so timid, I do have the same as yours’.

But to some relief, the punk had knocked the window off, so it was airy now.

I am sated of these rail journeys now…

But, you know what the best part is…I AM ALIVE! THAT TOO IN ONE PIECE!