That put a seal to the phase of planning. Just as I put the phone down, I felt a surge of relief, of work well done. What had I not done to meet Shreya! I moved to the window in my room, and saw the sky, full of stars. Life was indeed beautiful with her in my life. Love, reflected changes one’s life forever, and embellishes it with joy. The joy of knowing, that no matter where you are, what you do, someone, somewhere, is thinking of you. The joy of realizing, that you can do anything for that someone. It is an extremely special feeding, I tell you all.
=========================================== ================Nizamudin Station,’ said the blue board installed outside the station. Our car braked in front of it, amidst an ocean of humanity. There were people here; people there; people, confusion everywhere. Some were loaded with luggage, some with children and others were just idling away, enjoying the ebullience of the station. Dad told us to get off, and said he’d join us at the platform after parking the car. I took my rucksack out of the dicky and flung it over my shoulders, while Sneha handled my guitar and laughed at me.
“What id it?” I asked.
“Nothing, just looking a bit funny. The bag is taller than you!” she giggled as girls do. At least all girls I know giggle.
“Shut up!” I said.
“Don’t use such words,” said dadima politely, “It is not auspicious.”
“Come here, here’s the way!” guided my mom.
“I have eyes, mummy, I can see!” I retorted.
My whole platoon had landed at the station to bid me adieu, as had been foreseen, but I didn’t mind that. I was going with the other boys, on the tour. Only my dadaji was not there, his health didn’t permit him. We passed the hall, where black screens depicted various train names and departure times in red. I looked up and saw that mine was leaving on time. We climbed the stairs slowly, keeping pace with mom and dadima, and descended to reach platform number two.
Trains and stations always fascinate me. It had been more than five years since I’d been on a train, and my heart brimmed with joy at the prospect of the journey. Nothing matches the colourful canvas of a station. And the romance of trains! Red bogeys of my train shone majestically in the brilliant sun. on the red of the bogey, ‘Goa Express’ was written in yellow. The sight of the train, up close, after such a long tim, filled me with childlike excitement. The carriage rested royally; went on and on, into the eternity. My fingers, merrily, touched its metal, as I walked on.
The station was all chaos. Coolies, dressed in red, appeared out of nowhere to snatch your luggage. “Why do you labour, sir? Give the bag to me,” I heard over the announcer’s ‘…train will arrive shortly on platform number…’ Tea sellers rattled their spoons against the glasses, and shouted, in their shrill voices, the famous station slogan of ‘Chai-Chai’. The vendors cried themselves hoarse to attract customers to their stalls that served every Indian snack you could imagine – Bhelpuri, tikki, allo chaat, samosas, gol gappe… There were book-stalls, phone-booths, shops of every possible knick-knack. It was hardly a station, more of a bazaar, with all its hustle-bustle. There were people in all shapes and sizes, from different backgrounds. Different languages were heard, as I surged through the crowd. Punjabi, English, Hindi, Urdu, Marathi, Bengali, Kannadda (or, it may be, Tamil or Telugu)…
Nothing, I reflected, unites India the way the train, look so picturesque. Never is it more colourful. Never does noise, a blend of the train’ snort, the engine’s whistle, the chai-walah’s rattle, the vendor’s cry, the traveller’s murmur, bring such brightness to the heart.
With the whole atmosphere glistening in the sun, the sight of my friends took my spirit to an all time high. I saw Rishabh, Pritish, Jasdeep, Manpreet, Sameer, Khosla, all chattering gleefully. They hushed on seeing that I had brought my family along, lest their expletives be heard. There were other parents too, but no one had brought a battalion like me. Papr arrived and pleasantries were exchanged. The ambience was electric and the air was full of gaiety. A lot of bantering went on. My friends laughed madly, clapping excitedly, my mom smiled, so did my dad and Sneha. Dadima, not used to such fast pace of humour, understood little, but flashed all her teeth in her trademark smile.
My mom decided to conduct an inquiry with my friends, “How many shirts are you carrying?” some said nine, some eight and none below seven. Her eyes directed themselves at me, “See, I told you,” and then she told my friends, how I insisted on talking only four shirts, and how she had managed to convince me for eight. They all laughed. Suddenly the professor appeared, with his wife and Kittu, I guess, smiling as ever, adding to the happiness. He wished all of us cordially and we responded in a chorus. He got busy with Khosla.
Just about the five minutes remained for the departure. People started climbing into the train. My friends withdrew too after greeting my family. I looked at the four of them. Sudden emotion hit me – “How much I loved them!” a foolish thought crept into my mind – “What if something goes wrong…and this is last time I see them all?” I shoved it away taking God’s name. “Don’ be foolish”, I told myself.
“So…bye,” I said to them, hesitantly. My eyes were becoming moist. Not because I was going to miss them; it was hardly a ten day trip. It was just that I was keeping them in the dark… lying to all of them who ha so much faith in me, and loved me so much. I didn’t like it at all. I felt guilty. I wanted to tell them, “I am not doing anything wrong, I really love Shreya…” but would they understand? My head was clogged. All sort of thoughts came into my mind. I didn’t want to leave them. I wanted to meet Shreya, but didn’t want to leave in his manner. I prayed to God again to set everything right, and told myself that I was just following my heart. I was not doing anything wrong, I repeated. Love could never be wrong.
I touched dadima’s feet and she gave me her blessings. She thrust, into my hands, two white plastic boxes. “Amla and Chooran! Keep them. Your tummy is so sensitive! Eat carefully!” I nodded and smiled. I looked at her. She had not changed at all since my birth. Her silver hair, simple sari, big glasses her love and concern were a few constants in my life. I would know, only in time to come, their real value, the comfort that their presence brought to me. She took out some sugar from her little box, and distributed some among all. It is a custom at our home. Eating something sweet before leaving is considered auspicious. I always enjoy sugar and chewed it happily.
I hugged mummy and papa. Mom was sentimental as usual, “I am not going to Kargil, mumma!” I told her. “If only you were not so naughty, I would have sent you happily. Please don’t get into any mischief, “Walk carefully on roads, and don’t play pranks on people,” and as I saw her eyes watering, I hugged her again. I tried not to speak for it would make cry. “And you haven’t even brought a blanker, everyone else has,” she said worrying. “I’ll share, mummy,” I managed to say.
Dad was cool. He is never demonstrative. But he loves me mo less. I am his pride. “Enjoy yourself, son!” he told me, “Have fun, but remember – everything in limits, and I know you’ll bunk industrial visits, but go to two-three industries, at least and bunk carefully!” he knew me well. It was no use telling me to be diligent. He himself was the fun type. But he didn’t know that I was going to bunk the entire tour.
My darling sister stood with her hands crossed, with tension all over her face. Only she knew where I was going. She had tried to stop me, but I had me, but i had not relented. “What if something goes wrong?” she had asked again and again, but I had waved off the question. She was not cross with me for going, just worried. “Take care,” she said, “Please be careful, bhai!” and pushed into my hand a folded paper unobtrusively. I looked into her eyes and gave a look of assurance. I kissed her on her forehead, took my guitar and went into the train. I took my seat and the train started to move, slowly. These was so much noise in our bogey already. I went to the window and waved out to my battalion. could hear mom shouting, “Don’t get off the train on the stations in between! Remember when you...” A tear of guilt trickled down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it off. My friends surrounded me. The fun had begun.