The Tale of a Railway Cynic

An earnest 20 something year old stands at the platform and glances about nervously while a family corners her in with a teething baby, a burping grandma, a talkative aunt and a grandson who insists on launching himself horizontally on to the platform at the slightest opportunity.

An arthritic septuagenarian has asked the grandma, aunty and possibly the baby when the train is expected for the fifth time. She then sneaks a glance sideways and curses up to the seventh generation of the four teenage girls, who are giggling away into a cell-phone, that’s definitely more than my monthly pay. Their giggles are punctuated with frequent screams of ‘Oh My Gawwwwwddd’, ‘doooooooood’ and ‘faaaaaaaaaaaack’ in a high pitched voice that has scared the septuagenarian more than when she first heard about her arthritis.

A young lady in a light blue salwar-kameez, red and white bangles and hennaed hands is reassuring her ‘Jaan’ that she can travel by a train; no, she doesn’t need his help and yes, he is being very naughty.

Two obese aunties, eating newsprint-stained vadas, seared in rancid oil, are deep in discussion about their manager’s wife, who attended the office party in an outfit that could put former diva, Rakhi Sawant, to shame. Just as I’m about to discover how many drinks the wife had shamelessly consumed, I’m rudely interrupted by an electronic voice that says the train is expected at any moment.

Abruptly a war like discipline descends on the otherwise unruly station. Women have lined the edge of the platform with such fierce, determined looks, that a millennial might misunderstand it as the sudden appearance of a rather rare Pokémon.

The train chugs into the platform. Fearless lads suspend their scrawny bodies out of the overcrowded doorway, their hearts throbbing, their hair flying and their pants hanging on to them with the same shaky conviction as they are from the train. To my complete shock, the arthritic septuagenarian has leaped into the train before it has come to a complete halt. There is much confusion as the large family screams their way in, the obese aunties squeeze their way in, the college girls slide their way in and the newly married lady, whilst still talking to her ‘jaan’ stumbles in.

The 20 something year old stares in horror, as she watches the train disappear out of view. She blinks and prepares for her next journey.

An Indolent Wednesday in Black, White and a Few Colours

She woke up in the morning and watched the clouds billow and they were all grey. 
She got out of bed and tucked the sheets in and they were a purple splay.

She gaped into the mirror her honeyed skin well rested. 
She slipped into her striped pink pajamas dull and placid. 
Her blouse fell off her shoulder a strange shade of lilac.
Her curls brushing her skin in shades of dry brown and black.

She boiled a few tea leaves
And fried an egg or two.
She listened to BB King and other songs so blue.

She gazed at the leaves a bright north Indian green
She thought of the year she turned nineteen
They brought back memories of him
And his childlike face
How she’d sashay and dance to his every whim

The tea bubbled to a pungent vapor.
As it rained in silvered sheets
Her day had a little more colour.
And there were a few moments in black and white
All from her brunch right up to twilight.

Dear Lara...

You held my hand because I was too scared to cross the road on my own. We were 7. We became instant friends. ‘Sparky’ and ‘Sporty’ – that’s what we got nicknamed!

You were my spark. You taught me how to put my hand out boldly when our teacher (Mrs Singh) whacked us for gossiping and giggling in class. You were right next to me, supporting me and believing in me when I decided I had secret magical powers.

I remember when we dug up all the plants of my mean ground floor neighbor’s garden and then hid under the bed sheets in my room, praying that we would turn invisible, knowing that we would get yelled at. We were so worried because we knew we were wrong and kept hoping that we would b
e cool enough to not care.

You taught me how to ride a horse, knowing full well how petrified I was. I listened to you because I trusted you implicitly. I remember when you got yourself a rabbit and I thought he smelled like poop. I fell in love with him (almost as much as you) eventually, although he continued to smell like poop.

I remember how you did all my art and craft work in school because I was so horrible at it and I will never forget how I got an A+ for what you did and you ended up getting a B.

I remember how we both though it would be so cool to go to the local swimming pool in our sexiest swimsuits although we knew that it was only filled with grandpas and really fat housewives trying to stay above water.

I remember when we went to camp and found ourselves a naughty book; we then spent half the night in candle light going through men in really compromising positions. We giggled and exclaimed all night! We felt like proper adults filled with worldly knowledge.

I remember you teaching me this really cool ball trick and then I showed it off in front of a new set of friends. I’m still embarrassed when I think that the ball went smack into old Mr. Pereira’s derriere instead.

We had an argument once about some ice cream. There were only two cups left – one vanilla and one chocolate. Both of us wanted chocolate. We didn’t speak for two whole days.

I remember how we got caught for stealing candles from Sister Dorothy’s room. We didn’t need the candles. We just did it because we it was forbidden territory. Of course we got caught but this time we were too cool to care and so we stood there giggling. Together, we were untouchable. We were invincible!

I remember I was upset with you because you had your first kiss before mine. We were supposed to date best friends just like us and have our first kiss on the same day.

I remember that we cried and held each other when I had to move out. Best friends forever, we promised each other. Time passed… we lost touch.

I thought of all the times we laughed, cried and giggled together and so I wrote you a letter recapping all our memories, telling you how great my childhood was thanks to you. You never replied!

Today, I got to know that you died. So I went shopping. I don’t know why. I just went…  numbing myself to everything. I got lost in the mundane conversations around me – “Rahul. Don’t touch that” “How do you think this top fits” “I’ll cook chicken for dinner” Such trivial talk. Everything they said was invalid. Did they not know that the world was different now? Everything was a little less bright? That the world had lost its spark?

Back in school, we had a friend who died in a car crash. We took flowers to her funeral and we discussed why God took her away so early. Maybe now she can tell you and one day when I join you maybe you can explain why to me.

Lara, I hope you are happy now just as you are in my memories – giggling, full of life and chasing your dreams. I’ll remember you whenever I see a kid playing with a ball, whenever I eat chocolate ice-cream, whenever I see two little girls laughing together sharing a bond beyond all other.

 

To live in hearts we leave behind

Is not to die

(Thomas Campbell)

You and I

Every now and then, that one person walks into your life and when you look at that person, you never realize what a huge role they may be playing in making you the person you are.

But I knew! I knew the first time we spoke to each other.

Okay! I'm just being dramatic for effect! I didn't know anything. I can't even remember where we met for the first time or how we got talking. But friendships are like that; they work just like attraction. Sometimes you just know and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you can claim a 'forever' and sometimes you just go with the flow.

We went with the flow, You and I. You were the shreiky woman who always wanted to study, I was the loud girl who kept thinking of new ways to avoid education. You were the prim, proper, 'Ive never been kicked out of class' kind, I was the boisterous 'never been in class' kind and its precisely because of these differences that we became the awesome friends that we are today.




 
We've known each other 11 years now. That's over an effing decade. We've known each other through smiles, giggles, pranks, boys, jerks, heartbreaks, late night gossips, insane photo clicking sessions, experimental cooking, baking, studies, trips, adventures, fears, broken relations, shopping, merciless teasing, sleepovers, bitching, dramas, lost phones and so much more...

11 years later, I'm glad we're friends... Best Friends. I'm glad I can count you as one among 'my people'. You're that calming element in my life - the one who doesn't judge, the one who always stands by me, the one who has that amazing ability to understand why I make the decisions I've made. When I'm off making plans to conquer the world, there you are - that person sitting silently in the background - to hear my stories and to support me when I realise that maybe I should've planned it better.

You're the realist in our friendship, the one with the silent dreams and hopes, the one who has immeasurable strength hidden deep inside, the one who is so amazingly innocent at 27!!! (God knows, I can trip on that forever).

I would say stay the same but the whole saintliness gives me a complex so yeah... you know go be your amazing self or whatever :D

Samantha Dsouza, I love you!

Ambition - You Bitch!

It stomps all over you with the politeness of King Kong, takes you to all new highs, leaves you breathless and dizzy, makes you tremble, makes you smile, makes you sob, makes you repent, makes you forgive, gives you endless power and snatches away your dignity.

LIFE is probably the only legal drug around!

I was probably ten when I was first asked to write that essay which made its appearance through all my school years under the names of "My ambition in life" to "My goal in Life" to "What I would like to accomplish in life". As I moved from the age of ten to twenty, I began with wanting to be a pilot to wanting to become a teacher to even wanting to become a rock-star. Then there was the stereotypical doctor to a flight attendant to an actor. Its been fourteen long years since when I was first asked that question and my answer is amazingly as unsure as it was back then.

I envy those who know what they want out of life. They're clear, they work for it and some even achieve it. Creative writing happened to me. I didn't plan it and I never pushed for it. It just happened the way one falls in love. A million explanations couldn't possibly justify a why.

I now love what I do and I do what I love. I'm still as confused today when someone asks me "so what's your ambition in life?" I wonder if its professional to say that my ambition is to be as happy ten years down the line as I am today. I wonder if its okay to say that my ambition is to be as whimsical and free spirited and love life the way I did when I was ten. I wonder if its okay to say that my ambition is to remain happy!

It's okay to not know what you want out of life, not have an ambition - so long as you are rightly justifying the lack of knowledge; so long as you are continuously exploring, searching and digging deep for that answer.

Ambition is that quest which doesn't limit you to one goal but empowers you to try a million. Success comes to those without regrets, to those willing to experiment. Life has only one condition attached to it - that you live it. HOW YOU WISH TO DO IT IS WHAT DEFINES YOU!

Lost

I'm lost, I'm hurting and I think I'm doing the right thing. Its been 2 years and 5 months. We clung together, tried to work it out.. but the fights increased and Ive never been so low on self confidence. Everything seems to be my fault. He thinks so, his friends think so, even his sister who I'm crazily fond of thinks so!

I can't stand the tiniest things that make him who he is and vice-versa, yet I've never been treated so wonderfully by anyone else before either. No one apart from my mother could read me the way he did, who was so sensitive to every expression of mine.

Oh, what am I doing? Am I right in giving all this up? People think he's perfect for me..not his people just mine! but that's the way I always portrayed him to them. I know the truth. I know how hard we have to work to keep things going. When things were good, they were excellent but those instances slowly became fewer and fewer till we had nothing but the fights left.

Will he be happier now? Without me? Will things get better for him? I hope so! I really do! I want him to be happy. I wanted him to be happy with me too but things just don't work out the way you want them to.

Life goes on... He'll heal; I may take a while more to heal. I wish he'd realise I'm not such a bad person, that I care for him deeply, that I said what I said because I was so in love with him and I wanted the best for him.

Life goes on.. I'm a survivor and I have the Lord guiding me.. slowly, softly and gently. As long as he is there, there is nothing I cannot survive!

My adopted baby!

Her name was Ramona. She was my adopted kid... for two days. Its part of this wonderful programme organised by the Social Service League of St. Xaviers college wherein you can adopt a child from a lower income group for two days.

The one thing that stood out about this child was that she was beautiful. She had light eyes, brown hair and an amazing smile. She seemed quiet while standing in the line waiting for one of the volunteers to pick her. I walked up to her and asked her if she'd like to spend two days with me. She smiled a very shy smile and said yes!

The games and other interactive assignments started. Ramona didn't want to play, didn't want to dance and didn't want to do anything in particular. I started getting annoyed. I'm not much of the patient types and this was definitely testing it. I couldn't find a single thing for us to do that seemed to interest her. We went to the Byculla zoo the next day. All the kids were excited. I figured.. OOoooh fun! This she should enjoy.

Thats when it happened. We were standing at the entrance of the zoo. All the kids were dancing on the balls of their feet. Jumpin up and down, giddy with excitement. I could feel that familiar excitement too. A zoo after ages. This should be fun. Itll be better than yesterday. Ramona would definitely love today. And thats when she said it - 'My uncle works here. I come here every weekend. This is so boring.'

I wanted to scream!!!!!! S C R E A M. I thought I was doing something nice here. I adopted a monster. She was bored, lacked interest in everything and frankly beginning to annoy me tremendously. I thought to myself... Damn! I should've picked someone else.

As the day wore on, she almost began to cry coz she wanted to leave. Then I did something I regret to this day and wish I'd never said. I got mad at her and told her what an annoying child she was. How extremely boring it was for me to be with her but I still carried on and hence she should be a little more sporty.

Her face visibly fell. Good! I thought to myself. This should teach her to stop being so selfish! She just got quiet after that. Didn't say much. I let it be at that. She fell asleep on me on the drive back. I woke her up when we got back to college. She'd be leaving for her own home in an hour. I thought to myself - its the last hour. Thank God!

There were some more interactive sessions. After which all the kids and volunteers were given goody boxes. It contained some wafers and scones and chocolates and the most delicious chocolate cake from Taj. I knew what was coming before the boxes were being distributed. So i asked her - 'Ramona, do u like cake??' Her eyes lit up for the first time in two days. ' I love cake', she said. 'its my favorite! Especially chocolate flovour.'

I smiled as our boxes came to us and told her. Ill tell u a secret - 'I love chocolate cake too. When I was small, my grandpa used to get cake for me and I would hide and eat it, so my mom wouldn't scold me.' She giggled at that as she opened the box... and then i saw her beautiful eyes light up for the second time that day. She touched the cake almost reverently. She moved it to the side and ate all the wafers first, and then the scones and other things in the box. I had already finished my entire box by then. I smiled down at her as I saw she left the cake for last. I asked her ' best for last huh?'.

She looked up at me... held my eyes for a while, then looked down at her box. She broke the cake piece into half. She gave me one half and said - 'You like this cake, don't u? Here take half!' I stared at her in stunned surprise. I had already wolfed down my cake, barely giving a thought to whether she'd want some of it or no. She was holding my half in her hand and then she closed the box. I asked her - 'Aren't you going to eat the other half?'. She said 'Oh no, Thats for my brother. He loves cake too. But he won't get a chance like me to taste it.'

I just stared at her. Here was a child who could barely afford such luxuries. She was only 8. And here she was sharing the only thing she loved in the entire two days with someone who could buy such cakes at any time and another who didn't even know that a cake was being offered. I was touched. I felt ashamed of myself. I had never come across someone so generous or loving before. I thought of the two days I spent wishing it would be over and then repented. Here I was with such a wonderful human being and I wasted a chance to get to know her better.

She taught me something that a hundred stories wouldn't teach. She taught me to slow down and not judge. She taught me what loving someone means. She taught me what generosity is. I never saw Ramona again. Its been 7 years, but to this day, she flashes across my mind sometimes and I smile....

I went there to make a child happier and came back learning the true secret to happiness!