Morphed Musings
Winding vivid menagerie of thoughts unscathed from the clutches of invariance...
Wretched souls redeeming themselves in inconsequential struggles of worldly illusions.
Breathe to die, live to resurrect.
Conscience wandering on a warpath.
Copulate to clone. Inherit to lose to the myriad of fickle sanity.
Trying to find meaning where none exists.
Void makes us whole.
Shallow is the new character. Manipulation the new substance.
Emoting what can no longer be felt.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Monday, January 05, 2009
Changes in latitude bring changes in attitude
This is the original post that got chopped mercilessly last Saturday :(
When things start getting to me, I know that I need to get away. I decided that I have had enough of the drudgery and I want to escape! Planning at a short notice is fun. So I go ahead book my train tickets using the Tatkal facility. This service was without a doubt invented for impulsive people like me. A ticket to Amritsar dated 08/08/08 and a return ticket to Mumbai from Delhi dated 28/08/08. (No it’s not numerology before anxious minds start making assumptions)
I know I want to get away from this city for sometime. But I don’t “exactly” know where I am going first. Just to add to the bedlam: I decide to travel alone. Smart idea eh? The problem is when you have friends involved everyone says yes and at the last moment everything goes kaput and you are right where you don’t want to be.
Travelling alone is completely fine. Being a girl and travelling alone is also acceptable. But being a girl and travelling alone for a good twenty days without knowing which place I am going to visit first creates a “slight” problem. This is where “freaked out” parents and “concerned” friends come into the picture. Handling them takes immense patience which I don’t possess. So I tell them: “It’s going to be perfectly alright... I will call you everyday”… and all other possible reassuring phrases that I can think of. It’s a different thing that I will switch off my cell phone for a good part of the journey.
So I stuff my belongings in a backpack. I couldn’t take my camera along because it was busy gallivanting in Venice. So here I was all set. A backpack, no camera, no music, no books, a notepad and lots of anticipation and excitement of travelling alone to unexplored horizons with lyrics of a Tom Petty song looping in my head :
Yeah runnin down a dream
That never would come to me
Workin on a mystery, goin wherever it leads
Im runnin down a dream.
I reach Bandra Terminus well in time and find my coach and berth. I settle down only to discover after awhile that I am the only female and the rest of the berths are occupied by the male species. I was at my care-a-damn best. After making some small talk I found out that one was an automobile engineer, another a math teacher, other two were army jawans and the last one was a Gujju uncle trying his best to converse in English. Thankfully I was not a victim to lewd glares and I did not feel like plucking their eyeballs out like I do when I come across the demented and perverted. They were a decent bunch.
To be honest I had no clue where I will get off first. Delhi, Ludhiana, Amritsar?? I just told them I am going for a vacation. The obvious question was put forth: Are you travelling alone? My rehearsed reply: “Currently I am travelling alone and friends will join me later.” Trust and I are at loggerheads for quite sometime now.
The Jawans were from Maharashtra. When they heard me talking to the attendant in Marathi, they were all smiles. I was lost in translation, literally. Others did not speak or understood Marathi. So whatever we talked was translated into Hindi. At the end of it all I could not speak Hindi or Marathi correctly. So much for Jai Hind! Jai Maharashtra!
I found the math teacher a complete snob only to find out later that he was shy. After gathering my scattered thoughts I decided to go to Amritsar. Come on I paid the fare till Amritsar. My dad worked for the railways so I am entitled to a free pass across the country every year till the day I get married. Biting the dust for me is nowhere in the horizon. Dad reminded me only when I had already booked the tickets. Just imagine a girl tearing her hair out in comic-book style. Get the picture?
Ok coming back, it so happened that the math teacher was getting off at Amritsar as well. The train was scheduled to reach Amritsar around 8.30 in the night. He looked concerned and politely told me: If you don’t mind I could drop you till the Gurudwara because it’s not safe at this time for a girl to travel alone.” Before I could make up my mind, he added: Aap meri behen jaisi hain (You are like my sister). There are times when I make a complete fool of myself, this was one of them. I burst out laughing on his face. I was thinking what a b*****. Just waiting for a chance to harass girls. I told him no thanks and he could bloody well go to hell. He went red in the face with embarrassment. He said he had no horrible intentions. I looked at him for a while and said its ok you could drop me till the gurudwara. What the hell was I thinking!??!
A bus from the holy shrine comes to the station to pick up pilgrims and it does not charge any fare. He not only carried my luggage but stood between me and some drunken men. When the bus arrived it was chaos. Everyone got in like cattle worse than a Virar local at rush hour. He got in first dumped the luggage on the seat and came back again to help me get in the bus. He stood like a wall between the lecherous creeps and me till we reached the gurudwara which was 15 minutes away.
We finally arrived and started searching for accommodation. I understand Punjabi but cannot read or speak the same. Not only did he help me find a room for the night but also provided me with his contact numbers. Three of them. He wished me good luck and left. I pinched myself to check that I was not dreaming. Of all the incidents I read in the newspapers about how bad north India is for women; this man was a complete exception. I could not thank him enough. He made my travel not only memorable but helped me change my attitude to a certain extent. This was a great beginning to a journey which was complete with awesome experiences.
P.S: All the time I was travelling, we kept in touch. I tried calling him when I reached Mumbai. None of the numbers worked and the same remains till today.
This is the original post that got chopped mercilessly last Saturday :(
When things start getting to me, I know that I need to get away. I decided that I have had enough of the drudgery and I want to escape! Planning at a short notice is fun. So I go ahead book my train tickets using the Tatkal facility. This service was without a doubt invented for impulsive people like me. A ticket to Amritsar dated 08/08/08 and a return ticket to Mumbai from Delhi dated 28/08/08. (No it’s not numerology before anxious minds start making assumptions)
I know I want to get away from this city for sometime. But I don’t “exactly” know where I am going first. Just to add to the bedlam: I decide to travel alone. Smart idea eh? The problem is when you have friends involved everyone says yes and at the last moment everything goes kaput and you are right where you don’t want to be.
Travelling alone is completely fine. Being a girl and travelling alone is also acceptable. But being a girl and travelling alone for a good twenty days without knowing which place I am going to visit first creates a “slight” problem. This is where “freaked out” parents and “concerned” friends come into the picture. Handling them takes immense patience which I don’t possess. So I tell them: “It’s going to be perfectly alright... I will call you everyday”… and all other possible reassuring phrases that I can think of. It’s a different thing that I will switch off my cell phone for a good part of the journey.
So I stuff my belongings in a backpack. I couldn’t take my camera along because it was busy gallivanting in Venice. So here I was all set. A backpack, no camera, no music, no books, a notepad and lots of anticipation and excitement of travelling alone to unexplored horizons with lyrics of a Tom Petty song looping in my head :
Yeah runnin down a dream
That never would come to me
Workin on a mystery, goin wherever it leads
Im runnin down a dream.
I reach Bandra Terminus well in time and find my coach and berth. I settle down only to discover after awhile that I am the only female and the rest of the berths are occupied by the male species. I was at my care-a-damn best. After making some small talk I found out that one was an automobile engineer, another a math teacher, other two were army jawans and the last one was a Gujju uncle trying his best to converse in English. Thankfully I was not a victim to lewd glares and I did not feel like plucking their eyeballs out like I do when I come across the demented and perverted. They were a decent bunch.
To be honest I had no clue where I will get off first. Delhi, Ludhiana, Amritsar?? I just told them I am going for a vacation. The obvious question was put forth: Are you travelling alone? My rehearsed reply: “Currently I am travelling alone and friends will join me later.” Trust and I are at loggerheads for quite sometime now.
The Jawans were from Maharashtra. When they heard me talking to the attendant in Marathi, they were all smiles. I was lost in translation, literally. Others did not speak or understood Marathi. So whatever we talked was translated into Hindi. At the end of it all I could not speak Hindi or Marathi correctly. So much for Jai Hind! Jai Maharashtra!
I found the math teacher a complete snob only to find out later that he was shy. After gathering my scattered thoughts I decided to go to Amritsar. Come on I paid the fare till Amritsar. My dad worked for the railways so I am entitled to a free pass across the country every year till the day I get married. Biting the dust for me is nowhere in the horizon. Dad reminded me only when I had already booked the tickets. Just imagine a girl tearing her hair out in comic-book style. Get the picture?
Ok coming back, it so happened that the math teacher was getting off at Amritsar as well. The train was scheduled to reach Amritsar around 8.30 in the night. He looked concerned and politely told me: If you don’t mind I could drop you till the Gurudwara because it’s not safe at this time for a girl to travel alone.” Before I could make up my mind, he added: Aap meri behen jaisi hain (You are like my sister). There are times when I make a complete fool of myself, this was one of them. I burst out laughing on his face. I was thinking what a b*****. Just waiting for a chance to harass girls. I told him no thanks and he could bloody well go to hell. He went red in the face with embarrassment. He said he had no horrible intentions. I looked at him for a while and said its ok you could drop me till the gurudwara. What the hell was I thinking!??!
A bus from the holy shrine comes to the station to pick up pilgrims and it does not charge any fare. He not only carried my luggage but stood between me and some drunken men. When the bus arrived it was chaos. Everyone got in like cattle worse than a Virar local at rush hour. He got in first dumped the luggage on the seat and came back again to help me get in the bus. He stood like a wall between the lecherous creeps and me till we reached the gurudwara which was 15 minutes away.
We finally arrived and started searching for accommodation. I understand Punjabi but cannot read or speak the same. Not only did he help me find a room for the night but also provided me with his contact numbers. Three of them. He wished me good luck and left. I pinched myself to check that I was not dreaming. Of all the incidents I read in the newspapers about how bad north India is for women; this man was a complete exception. I could not thank him enough. He made my travel not only memorable but helped me change my attitude to a certain extent. This was a great beginning to a journey which was complete with awesome experiences.
P.S: All the time I was travelling, we kept in touch. I tried calling him when I reached Mumbai. None of the numbers worked and the same remains till today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)