In the downpour of spring by the bus stop I stood waiting, waiting for her to come, those were the one of the most anxious moments of my life .One bus came and the other left the stand, this chain of events continued till I had emptied umpteen coffees and lot more samosas, I saw her there she was walking in the distance towards the very stand I was waiting.
The nearer she came, the louder became my heart beats .I waited there taking her in my full view till she passed me with out noticing and stood beside to board a bus. If she was beautiful then what was gorgeous? She was pulling her hair in to a tight knot and drying it at the same time. All of the sudden she did what she always did with out a notice, she looked at me and smiled.Oh God! What was I to do smile back, say hello, ask her the question I always wanted to ask, the same thoughts ran in a cyclic order as they have done every day for 4 years before that day.
If there was an angel on earth, for me it could have been none other than her. Every move of her was so gracious and beautiful I wanted to stand there and admire .But the bus drivers do not have a romantic sense and it is during only these beautiful moments of my other wise boring life ,they arrive at correct time as if the existence of entire world depends on his running the bus on schedule.
So as my routine goes I would let her board the bus and then take the seat in her back row so that I can see her for another 2 hours till we reached our destination. This way it continued for 2 more years until my college finished. I hated my self, I hated the world, I hated the sky and what not, and I hated the bus driver who by now had learnt some romanticism.
Two and half years have passed by and four months back when I went to my college and stood under that bus shelter, I could see me in my juniors now doing what I was doing five years prior, suddenly I had this nostalgia creeping all over me and what ever ground I had gained in these two years seemed to be lost. I had this feeling if I could see her again I would ask her certainly. This was not a movie and that was not to be….
Then I saw the bus 7543 my greatest enemy till this day and boarded it to get home. When I got in to it and took my seat, I couldn’t believe what I really saw.Yeah I saw her, she was there, we struck a conversation for the rest of our journey she was remembering how I used to stare at her without speaking a word
Then I accompanied her to the house. I was getting desperate this was the perfect opportunity that I had been deprived of these many years ,then in her balcony when we were all to ourselves I asked her the question the one question I wanted an answer and I made up all my courage and asked her ..
“MELODY ITNA CHOCLATYYYY KYON HAIN “
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Friday, November 3, 2006
I, Myself and Trivandrum
Yeah the title is some what copied but not the content. This has been quite long coming from my side. What Trivandrum has done to me no body will ever understand. Though I often first in saying that this place has no life, I had none so quiet before .In some ways it robbed me of other explorations I could have made ,if I weren’t here. True this place does not have enough to feed the interest of a city dweller but I was never one. True this place poses lots of problems but which place does not.
On the valentines day of 2005 I was made to fall in love with Trivandrum. I packed my bags and boarded Sabari express that headed to Trivandrum with an expectancy that would have easily eluded a to-be-father’s about the gender of his breed. The clerk at office had nailed me by getting me a sleeper class compartment I swear it was my first 32hours straight journey and was not aware of the problems the journey would pose.
Incident one:
The morning of 15 Feb. saw us enter the “God’s OWN COUNTRY”. Some of my other lucky colleagues had got a three tier A/C booking and I along with one other friend Vijay joined them for a breakfast hoping for the TC to arrive to get an extra fare ticket to TVM. The TC did arrive after an hour but to my astonishment asked to have a private conversation with me. There in the corridor we had an argument where the TC started accusing that we had intentionally stayed in the compartment and were cheating on the railway department. Being used to the attention and respect the organization name generates ,I showed him the company stamp on the ticket and explained him that we had come over for break –fast and the other people in the compartment were our colleagues. The next question hit me as hard as a gunshot ,the moron had never heard about the company name(or was I a moron).He then proceeded and asked me to tell the names of the 20 odd people traveling with me and prove that they were my colleagues, I could have done that but the problem was now I was “myself” and shot came the answer asking him whether he knew the names of people working in southern railways and if he cannot give me the names how could I believe he was an TC.The result was that it took 3000 rupees and a great deal of persuasion to keep him from hitting me or throwing me in to jail.
The fine left us high and dry and we entered Trivandrum with about 500 rupees in my bank account and an entire month before a positive hope of enriching my account.
It was about 7:30 in the evening when we reached our designated hotel and wondered whether if it was a bundh day we had come on, the shops has closed down their iron curtains and people had gone to sleep. It was not until five more days in the place we came down from our utopia to the normal world and it started to hurt bad ,and really bad. Finally by the end of the week we had gotten ourselves a room to stay.
We were sitting on bench in Hyderabad nibbling at our nails for two months till that period and the promise of some work seemed like a oasis in the desert I was in then. but it was not to happen, the pipeline in which projects were in for this place seemed to be quite a long one and we were to do the same thing as we did in Hyderabad if not more furiously this time. Those were days when the chime of six on clock for us was somehow like a death bell. A long walk towards kazhakuttam would follow. The road connecting office to room was a national highway devoid of any street light or is it a highway light and stories about robberies were always in air. Every day was an adventure and hunt for food was something like a hunt for Robinhood.With absolutely nothing to do at office and home life was becoming a virtual hell adding to these vows were policemen who would often get down to have a lecture about Kerala’s culture and how we were spoiling it.
We were forbidden warriors fighting a losing battle and in a desperate condition and this made us the group of 10 people a close knit unit. We started going around Trivandrum quite frequently .It was during one of these tours we landed in a place called Padmanabhapuram Palace
To be continued ……….
On the valentines day of 2005 I was made to fall in love with Trivandrum. I packed my bags and boarded Sabari express that headed to Trivandrum with an expectancy that would have easily eluded a to-be-father’s about the gender of his breed. The clerk at office had nailed me by getting me a sleeper class compartment I swear it was my first 32hours straight journey and was not aware of the problems the journey would pose.
Incident one:
The morning of 15 Feb. saw us enter the “God’s OWN COUNTRY”. Some of my other lucky colleagues had got a three tier A/C booking and I along with one other friend Vijay joined them for a breakfast hoping for the TC to arrive to get an extra fare ticket to TVM. The TC did arrive after an hour but to my astonishment asked to have a private conversation with me. There in the corridor we had an argument where the TC started accusing that we had intentionally stayed in the compartment and were cheating on the railway department. Being used to the attention and respect the organization name generates ,I showed him the company stamp on the ticket and explained him that we had come over for break –fast and the other people in the compartment were our colleagues. The next question hit me as hard as a gunshot ,the moron had never heard about the company name(or was I a moron).He then proceeded and asked me to tell the names of the 20 odd people traveling with me and prove that they were my colleagues, I could have done that but the problem was now I was “myself” and shot came the answer asking him whether he knew the names of people working in southern railways and if he cannot give me the names how could I believe he was an TC.The result was that it took 3000 rupees and a great deal of persuasion to keep him from hitting me or throwing me in to jail.
The fine left us high and dry and we entered Trivandrum with about 500 rupees in my bank account and an entire month before a positive hope of enriching my account.
It was about 7:30 in the evening when we reached our designated hotel and wondered whether if it was a bundh day we had come on, the shops has closed down their iron curtains and people had gone to sleep. It was not until five more days in the place we came down from our utopia to the normal world and it started to hurt bad ,and really bad. Finally by the end of the week we had gotten ourselves a room to stay.
We were sitting on bench in Hyderabad nibbling at our nails for two months till that period and the promise of some work seemed like a oasis in the desert I was in then. but it was not to happen, the pipeline in which projects were in for this place seemed to be quite a long one and we were to do the same thing as we did in Hyderabad if not more furiously this time. Those were days when the chime of six on clock for us was somehow like a death bell. A long walk towards kazhakuttam would follow. The road connecting office to room was a national highway devoid of any street light or is it a highway light and stories about robberies were always in air. Every day was an adventure and hunt for food was something like a hunt for Robinhood.With absolutely nothing to do at office and home life was becoming a virtual hell adding to these vows were policemen who would often get down to have a lecture about Kerala’s culture and how we were spoiling it.
We were forbidden warriors fighting a losing battle and in a desperate condition and this made us the group of 10 people a close knit unit. We started going around Trivandrum quite frequently .It was during one of these tours we landed in a place called Padmanabhapuram Palace
To be continued ……….
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)