Why Train?

The month of May has been a shame, as far as writing is concerned, that is. I began the month with the determination that I would end it by bringing about a change in my life. And yes, I did. The early days began with ruthless rounds of applications and rejections. I used to tire myself out being on the laptop so much so that I couldn't return to it to write the stories, which would thus disappear with the sleepless nights.

I am travelling first class on an excellent train today, not that I haven't before. Too many emotions have made me fat. Yes, fat. Initially, the rejections, next the new module of tests and apprehensive waits. Then came the problem of plenty, followed by celebrating one, each of which was accompanied by endless comfort food, chilled beer and mellow whiskey. People have blamed me for being fickle and inconsistent, but it is nowhere near to the vast inconsistency in a single train -- the luxury and the reality. I began life with sleeper class too. I lived reality for a very long time. Now, I thought when I dived for a decision, was finally the time to indulge in some luxury. Little luxuries like the attendant at call on train, and a new life with new roads awaiting me. 

I look forward to working hard and lazying harder. I look forward most to becoming sexy. I look forward to becoming cool by sweating it out on the badminton court and not by drowning myself in cans of Buds. I look back at the number of people who have loved me unbelievably and some who disliked me unnecessarily. I leave a city behind which houses most colleges in which I have touched the life of at least one student, and befriended an enemy in the authority. The city which hosts the malice of monotony with the same ease with which it has cushioned culture. I carry with me miles of memories and no colour-matching games. I have not been able to forgive myself for letting the stories slip away.

A person from my first college, with whom I used to chat unendingly, even until last week, surprisingly called me "Silence". He passed away last night. The bravest person, my favouritest person in the world willingly promised me she wouldn't die till I see her again. It is unfair to say she has been one of my HODs. The city gave me a lot in terms of characters. The city gave me my best friends in my cousins. We formed a holy trinity -- and it is difficult to imagine one left for Mumbai yesterday, I am going to Delhi today and the other will leave for California in August. We won't have those drives, drunk discussions and films. Not very soon, and certainly not face to face. I won't have my daughter's Granny-D across my last college, whom I could command to meet me for a car-chat, or an ice-cream. I won't have that best friend who gave me Granny-D, who has fought with me and taught me about the 'line of academics'. I leave behind my twin. My worst college's best head-girl, my daughter, was surprised this morning when she came in to hand a dibbi of halwa and saw my maid give me a BIG bar of milk chocolate. I added to her surprise that my car washer gave me a Milky Bar earlier in the morning. And I leave behind my student from that horrid college, once again, who taught me the tricks of thinking and taking these new tests. She instilled in me the power of the universe. I could go on and on. The horrid college gifted me some very nice people. The last and best college has been a dream to work in. Crisply put, it was an honour and honestly, I have never had to put so much of homework into my own studying before entering a class.

But I have a destination, and I need to curb my pace. I am not ashamed that I am carrying just one book in my five pieces of luggage. There are many notebooks of pride though, my favourite fountain pens and the Noodler's ink. I leave behind a strange set of loving parents, and a room of my own. I leave behind cases against my car and am desperately trying to be sad, but tell you what, the only thing I am sad about is having written so little in May. I could and should have told myself while trying to make those ring of smokes that the titles would dissolve like them too. Each time, I entered a class for the first time, I had jittery palms, but now that the news room awaits me, I am surprisingly calm. I am loving the inspiring pat on the back that my Professors are giving me saying its good to pursue what I like. 

This title "Why Train?" is for all those who are trained into thinking, "but, isn't air cheaper than first class?" Because in spite of being trained into "thinking", I am "expressing". I had to write. Because, I am not sky-rocketing towards my ambition. Because, I have just laid down the tracks. Because, what's the use of all the training, if you cannot live the one life you have, the way you want to. Why train? Just one step at a time. Fall. Get up. One sexy step at a time.  

I am, at 32, doing, what I should have done at 23. I was managing a marriage then. I am managing myself now. 

June 2nd, 2016.