A Journey Called 'Life'....

Life!!! The very word symbolizes and generates a lot of positive energy. A new born baby’s first cry, a seed germinating into a plant, the life of a great person, a person coming back to life after being in a coma...

I flip through the pages of the dictionary and stop at the page, which defines life. Common definitions of ‘life’ include:
- condition that distinguishes animals and plants from earth, rocks, etc.
- all living things
- state of existence as a human being
- period between birth and death; period since one’s birth
- way of living

Wow! These five different definitions quite summarize life in an entirety. But what does life really mean to me? Life often throws a million questions at me. Where am I headed? What does the future have in store for me? What are my goals in life? What do I really want to achieve in life? These questions have been at the back of my mind for quite sometime now. I have answers to some of them but am confident that in due course of time I will be able to answer the rest.

Its 8:15 a.m. and I stand here at the bus stand waiting for the company bus to arrive. I stand here in the same manner as I did a few years back waiting for my college bus. Little did I know then, that things would change so much in 2 years. The sky under which I am standing
seems to be looking at me and smiling. :) It is perhaps the only thing that has acted as a silent witness.. watching the transformation of a loud and bubbly person into a quiet professional.

I wouldn't blame professionalism for the change though. It is destiny, or may be you could call it life. Yes ‘Life’, mysterious in the true sense, for one does not understand why you see hundreds of people everyday, work with so many, and still remain lonely.

I am now seating on the first seat in the bus, a seat reserved exclusively for ladies. I’m looking out of the window watching people trying to catch up with "life". Office goers rushing to work, housewives going through their morning chores, school children waiting for their school bus. It's a 20 minutes journey and the only company that I generally have in the bus is the chatter of my colleagues in the background.

I can't help thinking about the 1 hour long bus journey to high school... Well it's a paradox to call a distance of 12 kms "long", especially since my brother covers the same distance in 10 minutes but that is how it has always seemed.

The distance to college too from the Mapusa Bus Stand was 3 kms but the bus normally took half an hour. A typical college day always began in the bus with all the familiar faces; you look forward to all your friends getting in the bus. We would also look forward to the reasonless giggles; the silly jokes and the loud laughter that followed which made the one-hour lectures seem so much shorter.

Well, as I said it was a different life then. The pleasant memories of my school and college life are in itself good enough to save me from the misery of the bus journey.

The bus has just reached the company and I wait for all the males to alight. Of course in the evening it’s a different story cause I’m one of the first Welspunites to alight from the bus. I don’t feel bad or distraught. After all don’t these men have their wives at home with a ready meal whereas I have to undergo the routine task of going through the daily household chores...

From the glass window in front of me I notice that the line has come to an end and it is time for me to get off the bus. I nod at the guard as he passes a relieved look after checking all the males. A short walk to the time office and I’m done with punching my card. I flash a smile of acknowledgement to all the known strangers that I see as I approach my cubicle. A few of my colleagues greet me with their morning wishes and as always, we exchange our pleasantries. Its Saturday and discussions jump to the weekend plans and I wonder what I'd do over the weekend.

It would be just another Sunday staring at my cell phone, wishing it would ring and bring back some wonderful moments that are now missing in my life or maybe the safer option would be to just busy myself with Sunday spring cleaning, for the company provided flat is my new founded asylum on Sundays.

A year back, weekends or weekdays didn't matter to me, I was always busy. I always stood doubting the authenticity of the wall clock that seemed to be running too fast to perceive its movement. Alas, now it seems as though my clock is suffering from some kind of paralytic attack.

There is a time in life, where one needs to go ahead, leaving behind your friends and carrying along only memories. You do make new friends, but then you can never let go of the old close ones ... you do meet people who'd be so good to you that you could tell them anything and everything, but you find it tough to find a person to whom you needn't say things ... friends who just know you. Occasional calls from such friends, have been the only thing that I seem to look forward to now... However, I can’t help but notice the uneasy pause that lingers around such conversations.. A pause not because of the relationship, but because it is too short a duration to say everything, and of course you cannot completely rule out the paucity of words!

As I look outside the office window, I tell myself, may be there will be a day when things will change, when life will offer a rewind, a recap of all the events and I just have to wait.

Capricious are the ways of life, for I know there would be many who'd be able to empathize with me, ironically, even the dear ones that I miss this moment, waiting perhaps!!!

Cause I’ve now realized that we often embark on various journeys. But the greatest journey from birth to death is the journey of life itself.

And so I pledge to take one day at a time......

PLATFORM NO 1…

As I enter the railway station I can hear the nearby clock chiming dong dong dong dong.. 4 chimes to herald in 4 p.m. Yet another day in my life, the only difference being that today I’m off to Goa.

My train to Goa is at 5pm and I’ve reached an hour early. I find myself being pushed by the crowd up and down the steps of the over bridge as I proceed to platform no. 1. Talk about being led by the flow!!

A train had just arrived and the lady at the microphone announced that ‘the train that has just arrived on platform no. 1 is going to Mumbai.’ The train halts and I find myself in front of compartment no. S-8. A total chaos results as people alight from the train in the midst of people trying to enter the train. The pandemonium is spiced up with the various people selling food, beverages & other stuff and coolies looking out for potential baits.

Suddenly, a man starts shouting loudly and people turn to S-8 to see what’s happening as I see a group of young guys trying to enter the train compartment. The man now screaming on top of his lungs has a lot of luggage and is finding it tough to get down along with his charming wife. His pretty wife in a designer salwaar kameez is more interested in her makeup and hairdo rather than helping her poor hubby with the luggage. The hubby a man in his late 40’s and a pucca Gujarathi businessman resolves the situation by thrusting his huge suitcase in front making the group of skinny guys back off. The man jumps onto the platform and looking at the piteous group of boys with a ‘Serves you right!!!’ look gets the remaining luggage out of the train.

Well, it’s an usual thing at the station. People fight with all their might as they bully to get in and out of the train. I remember the times when I was young and used to wait like a martyr at the bus stop, waiting for people to enter the bus instead of fighting my way through. My Mom though was smarter as she used to push a shopping bag through an open window informing the person closest to ‘catch place’ for her. Of course in the good old days people would not dare remove a bag which was placed on an empty seat not only coz of the good manners people had then, but especially since the bag was also under the captive gaze of its temporary care taker.

I somehow wonder how we can be so cruel and fight just for a seat. Normally, one should wait for the persons to alight from the train/vehicle and then get in. But people just wanna rush. I do like the bus queue system followed in Mumbai at the bus stands where there is complete discipline. Also knowing that the greedy private bus owners in Goa want to get the maximum number of passengers into their bus it sure is bad luck if you don’t manage to be pushed in the bus by them. Needless to say, their buses tend to resemble a tin of packed sardines. But hey! I am deviating from my main posting so back I go to Platform No. 1.

As the vada pav walas made brisk business selling hot (I sure wonder how people can eat these left over vadas made hot just before a train arrives) vadas to hungry travelers and others selling bhel, water, biscuits, ‘phoren’ chocolates & ‘chim’ gum.. the train started moving slowly away from the station. A few hurried goodbyes and people collecting the change from the guys selling foodstuffs, the train moved on to the next station.

After about 5 minutes Platform no 1 changed from the animated racket to a more passive location. And that’s when I spied a vacant stone sofa on the platform. My tired legs sure needed a well-deserved rest and so I headed to sit on the sofa.

Plop! Went my backpack as I placed it next to me on the seat. A black dog was under the sofa and it looked up as I sat. Not a menacing look but with more like a welcome and be my guest type of frown. A man in rags was sleeping close to the sofa. And I sure thought until the next train comes there would be no boisterous activity. But I was mistaken!!

As I looked around me, I could see the vada pav guys hurrying to their ‘bosses’ to tell them of the brisk business they did and to return the remaining vadas for ‘warming up’. A few filthy guys emerged out of nowhere and jumped onto the tracks with sacks searching for empty plastic bottles and other ‘rich’ trash. A crippled beggar nearby counted the coins in his hand and bought a ‘chai’. Two eunuchs were flirting with an equally sad looking man. A cop came and tried waking up the sleeping man in rags. But he didn’t stir. Someone muttered that he was a drunkard and would regularly be found sleeping on the Platform. People slowly started trickling in as the clock ticked away.

Suddenly, the doggie below my seat stretched and I look at my watch and realized its 4:50 pm. The doggie sure seems to have doubled up like an alarm clock for me. I found that I have enough time to buy a bottle of Amul Cool. The platform is now filled with people waiting to board the next train and sorrowfully I say bye-bye to my comfortable seat and the harmless doggie to go and buy me a refreshing drink. As I get up a lady gives me a thankful look as she parks her kid and bag in one go on my now vacant seat.

I proceed to the nearby stall and the stall owner gives me a grim look. I’m sure he must be thinking why I didn’t come earlier instead of sitting down the whole while. Obviously he wants to catch the new bhakras who have come on Platform No. 1. I give a sheepish smile as I ask him for my favorite flavor. Another announcement indicates that the train is arriving and as I put down the bottle and hurry to the edge of the platform I say a silent and combined prayer for a safe journey, that there won’t be any hassles, I won’t be pick pocketed or get in the wrong compartment.

As the hullabaloo grows and I get in safely into the train, I’m thankful that I’m not shoved back out by an irate traveler’s suitcase. I then progress to quickly locate my seat and put my bag down. I open the window and look around at all the now familiar chaos, the bedlam and the commotion…

As the train starts with a slight jerk, I take a fleeting look at the place I occupied minutes ago on Platform No. 1. Everyone’s busy except for a silent figure who is oblivious of the din around him. It’s the same man dressed in rags. The entire pandemonium has had no effect on him and as trains go and come he will be totally unaware of the same. He’ll be fast asleep on his comfortable bed on Platform No. 1…