May 06, 2014

Train journeys and long winding tracks


It was on the pretext of meeting my parents that I started a two hour journey, on my own. After marriage, I really never travelled alone, apart for work. This time, I wanted it. Alone.
Umpteen number of tea vendors passed by, eyeing every passenger. What held me back from calling out to one, savoring the sweet strong taste of tea, I still don't know. I panicked everytime a vendor passed by. And I kept telling myself - you will reach soon, and your reluctance is one you will regret. But no. I didn't. Till...
A stack of books, all my favorite authors. The seller had long hands, because the stacked books reminded me of the old librarian in the public library - like his hands were made for carrying huge stacks of books. Anyways, this seller plonked the stack next to me. Most of the seats were empty, and I really got a window seat with two empty seats next to me. I eyed the books curiously, and my eyes landed on his face. Tired, is that an emotion? I choose to keep it that way, because he was tired and his face, his eyes screamed 'tired'. I took a book out of the pile, and took my wallet out to pay him, not a word exchanged between us. And just then, the tea vendor came again.
This time, I didn't let him go...I needed the tea. I needed the book. I needed this journey. Alone. One tea after another, one banana fry after another, one page after another, one station after another...my need was satiated. It was not nirvana that I was seeking, all I needed was a moment to myself, loving myself, that one moment, I had.
The need ended. Atleast, for now.


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