..train ki window wali seat..

I am sitting on a window seat of AC coach, coming to Delhi from Chandigarh.Nothing out of ordinary. Being Thursday, the coach is relatively empty, my row, completely.The light is quite dimmed here, at the back of the coach, a couple of tube lights gone off.Outside the window, the blue of the twilight sky is fast turning into black of night. Soon the fields outside will be a mere dark blur,giving the lonely lit houses far away, an opportunity to express themselves.And I am sitting on the window seat of AC coach, coming to Delhi from Chandigarh, with a pleasant anticipation of coming home after 3 weeks. Between these 4 hours to destination,however, I would be a different person.

Strange, but it has happened far more often than I realised. The journey of the train somehow evokes thoughts, plans,ideas and imaginations which seem improbable anywhere else. Threads of thoughts, from long forgotten past, from future unfathomed, from present just went by, suddenly come together to weave a complete story.

Don’t know if that happens with others as well, but for me, a train journey has often taken the role of a place for solace and speculation! In the constant din of metal rubbing the metal to move ahead, the constant urging of hawkers, the full throated laments of the beggars, the chit chat, laughter, shouting, I find myriad of thoughts rushing to my mind, filling my consciousness with uncountable emotions, bringing a smile or a wisp of sadness, sometimes precipitating a decision, sometimes posing a question of life. Somehow even all the songs running in my mp3 player that time seem to be creating the background for it.

Sometimes the journey of train has been a place of catharsis, in deciding whether to keep standing for a number of hours or letting a feeble old man keep standing near my seat, his old palm resting on the handle in front of my eyes, not complaining, but still making it extremely uncomfortable; Or in invoking a sudden gush of humanity into my heart generating forgiveness for someone’s wrongs to me.
Sometimes it is just a theatre where multitudes of people unfold a big constant drama, great acting on a sorry and extremely depressing script and I play the role of a numb spectator!

That’s how, in these couple of years, between anticipation of the destination and a longing for the left behind, often sipping a cup of tea or eating ‘unhygienic’ Indian junk foods at stations, ‘adjusting’ a little to give some space to a bulky lady to let her rest her bums, finding myself on the edge after sometime! Or standing at the bogey’s gate, holding the handles, staring at the blur of distant lights and unknown fields through the running train, feeling the rush of cold and rough air on my face, I have fallen in love with the journey in train! Sometimes it’s my place of meditation, sometimes it’s a place of insight, sometimes it is just a number of hours of my life, deleted, unaccounted.

And oh, As I finish writing this, a pretty lady has come and sat in my row, getting cozy with a gentleman! Not a bad choice of place, I must say. This is yet another possibility of the journey in train!