The Journey with true India

It had been a busy day. I was going home for almost 6 weeks just before the graduation second year exams. This meant I carried the thick recommended course books home not to mention the n number of print outs taken from the so called reference material. The fact that I was a girl and needed to carry all the dresses (after all I needed to look good @ home) and shoes back didn’t help a single bit to the whole situation. Finally when every thing was packed I had an unliftable suitcase and another mammoth bag full of books…which I couldn’t even move a centimeter. However, being a regular traveler (and a pro to this kind of situations) I was sure that some kindly uncleji or bhaiyaji or a youngster would help me out.

The train stopped for 5 minutes at the small station that was near the hostel. I bid farewell to my mates and headed to the station at around 7:30 PM. Dinner was yet not ready so I had to skip it but the kindly Bihari Bhaiya who managed the mess had packed something for me to eat on the train. When I reached the station it was unusually silent and deserted. “Maybe not too many people on the Triveni Express tonight”, was my thought. I wasn’t unusually worried. I called home on reaching the station from the PCO booth (mobiles were still a rarity- especially amongst students) and it was then the information bomb exploded.

My mom told me that there had been a huge rally of the Dalits (which later became known as the Thu-Thu Rally) organized by our very own Mayawati aka Behanji at Lucknow and all the people who had attended it from the regions around Allahabad/my home town were supposed to return by the train I was to take. I made further enquiries and I realized that the train was late by 3 hours. My mom asked me to immediately leave and catch the train from the Central station because she didn’t want me to give company to drunkards, madmen and other unholy elements for the next 4 hours at the deserted station. I did as I was told but it wasn’t all that easy….

Allahabad is basically a student city, dotted with colleges and hostels. It’s old as well with full of sprawling English style bungalows, huge lawns and “a-first-timer-will-get-lost” kinda parks and gardens. Usually its calm but then there is no dearth of the guys commenting/ ogling / trying to be over friendly with the girls. Late hours after darkness aren’t really safe with incidents of chain and purse snatching being common. The Central Station was at the other end of the city- almost 15 kms away and I was supposed to go alone on a rickshaw with 2 unmanageable luggage through dark streets crossing not less than 3 boys hostels and a stretch of 1 kilometer that I usually didn’t even take during the day- thanks to the “incidents” and the ghosts that prowled the area. But at the moment I had no option. I had to go and that was it.

The ride to the station was uneventful…I had put on the jacket hood so as not to be recognized as a girl on the dark roads. I wasn’t really worried about the luggage because I knew no one could snatch it. No ghosts and no unfriendly elements appeared. Once at the station amidst bustling crowds and screaming children things looked easy, all I had to do was to sit and wait for another few hours and the train would be there. I had enough novels to kill time for the whole night. I had already hired a coolie and he was supposed to place my things on the train once it came. He had made me sit at the moment near the place where my boggie as per the reservation ticket. I took out a book and soon was into another world…..I had thought about taking the dinner there but closed in the web of the book a cold dinner didn’t look really tantalizing.

11:20 PM. Frantic announcements about the arrival of Triveni Express within the next 15 minutes brought me back to the reality. The coolie was also prancing around and he even queried about my huge luggage and unaccompanied status. I answered as much as I could but then he said something that made my blood go cold “Beti, aaj train mein bahut bheed hogi, koi reservation se nahi chalega- aap kaise jaoge?” (“Child, the train would be crowded and there wouldn’t be anyone following the reservation system- so how would you go?”) I was in a fix...I couldn’t go back to the hostel, I couldn’t stay at the station and here he was telling me about the train….Finally I decided to go…it seemed senseless not to go when I had already crossed one hurdle of coming to the station. Just another hurdle remained…getting on the train with my things and I was sure I could manage it somehow. Once inside some one kind enough would let me sit and then by morning I would be home…so what if a bit late…..

The train arrived…it was packed to capacity and it looked impossible that anyone could get in. Yet people poured in endlessly and so did I with the flow of the crowd. I had my reservation but then the reserved compartment looked the same if not worse than a general class.The coolie got my things…but the problem was I couldn’t go beyond the first compartment…people were all over, the seats, the floor, one guy was sitting on the top of the door. To make matters worse, I couldn’t find a single educated person in the whole ocean of faces around me. It was a crowd straight out of the poorest villages of India, people for whom getting 2 meals a day was more than what they could ask for. And God!! How the whole place smelt…like an athlete’s closet full of unwashed sportswear.

The eternal optimist in me told me that it was just a matter of few hours and I would be home, while the practical me wanted me to get off from the train at that moment. But the practical I was defeated because I was “locked” now. I had atleast 40 people between me and the door and there was no way I could move with my things in any direction forget towards the door.

Since there wasn’t any space on the seats I sat down on the bag- the bag that was full of books. I was already an object of curiosity a bespectacled, jeans-t-shirt clad girl with so much luggage traveling alone. Women nudged each other looking at me and children wanted to touch me. I cared about none. My mind was focused on nice things, which would take me away from the reality of the whole night ahead of me, the dank smelling compartment, the fact that I was hungry, thirsty and wanted to go to the loo and the terrible back ache that grew worse every moment due to the lack of back support.

The train moved but it was more like a bullock cart. The chains were pulled at every station and even at places where there was no station- the country folk knew the road nearest to home and they were unwilling to walk more or to take another means of transport from the stations where the train was actually supposed to stop. It was already 1:30 AM and we hadn’t really made a huge progress. I had finished off with the list of the “imaginable good things” and hence they no longer acted as a barrier to reality. I took a look around and all of a sudden I felt the patriotic uprising within myself. I thought about the then unknown lawyer Mohandas Karam Chand Gandhi whose life got shaped on one such trai journey in South Africa. These were my own country men and my education was doing nothing towards there welfare, nor it would ever. I would, the way things were going would have a nice job and all the comforts but what about these people? They would remain the same even 10 years down the line. They would smell the same, travel the same way and would not know that no numbers of “Thu-Thu rallies” would bring even a minute improvement to their fates. Was there something I could do for those teeming millions? Could I get into an administrative job instead of the MBA I wanted to be? Thoughts like this floated around until the day’s tiredness took over and I fell asleep sitting on my bag of books my head in my lap.

It was morning when I woke up. It wasn’t a huge progress that we had made in the hours of darkness but then we were moving and home was closer than what it was a few hours ago. However the crowd looked the same to me….there wasn’t a difference in their numbers. But then, everyone had a few inches of space to sit in the tin of sardines. A child sat next to me with her free flowing nose. She was looking at me with awed wonder and I smiled back at her, a smile that was acknowledged by her mother who sat next to her. I figured out that the child’s name was Gudiya and so I called out to her. She immediately came over and held my hands. I started talking to her and soon she was busy laughing and playing, like kids usually do. That made the time go faster…..I was already half dead with hunger the pain in my neck and the by sitting in a hunched position for so long.

It was around 10 AM that some police men came on a round. I had dozed off and was woken up by a thud against the bag I was sitting on. I opened my eyes and it was Mr. Policeman. He asked me what I had inside such a heavy bag. I said books and he didn’t want to believe me. He started lecturing me on bombs and how “people like me” were responsible for the blasts around the country. Me? Blasts? Bombs? I who couldn’t even light a cracker on Diwali? It didn’t make sense so I showed him the ID card and told him I was going home just before exams. Still not pacified. Looking back I realize that there was no doubt about my identity ever. All he wanted was to have a conversation with me and maybe bug me a little. His next interrogation item really pissed me off because he wanted me to open up my bag and show him in. All the pent up anger over the delays and tiredness from the day before came back and I told him I wasn’t showing him a thing...how could he imagine a girl like me traveling alone to be carrying bombs? And if at all he wanted to check my bags he should first create a space of atleast 1 meter on each side. He seemed surprised that I had spoken up and mumbled something but then got away. Gudiya’s mom looked at me with awed attention – she who in all probability hadn’t spoken to any male except her husband in atleast her adult life. The men folk started chatting about how the policemen are all mixed with criminals and soon the conversation took an interesting turn about the politicians. It gave me a first hand view of how the commonest of the common people see the leaders. As Gods. Mayawati is in demand because during her campaign she had provided 2 blankets and a bowl/utensil to each of the families. Sonia Gandhi wasn’t in demand because she had given only one blanket and a day’s meal. I realized that India will always have scams and a bad political situation till the time the majority of the voters were like these-the one who did not have a vision beyond the next meal and the next winter. Somewhere unconsciously, I was so carried on by the discussion that I forgot where I was and gave some input about a much younger politician. I was again the focus of attention (the kind of attention that told that Mayawati and Sonia Gandhi were the only women whom the men traveling with me had heard discussing politics). My opinion was turned down and I didn’t dare to argue further because I didn’t dare to test the political bent of mind of people who were back from a rally. But then I was in the lime light now. A high school drop who was a glib talker (Chandu was his name as I later gathered) and looked like a politician’s chamcha came over and sat beside me. He asked me my surname and what my father did. He spoke aloud about how I with all the “Wealth of my knowledge” could join politics and maybe become an MLA from some unknown village(s) in Bihar. His conversation though intriguing and motivating made me laugh, because I never had any political ambitions. Soon he was discussing the local politics and even gave me his phone number so as to reach him when-ever I wanted to be in for this. He even told me that the local MLA’s son was a good friend of his and was looking for an educated wife, who would pave the way the way to the top. He said I fitted the bill perfectly with my high caste, serious looks and short hair (! ##$$$???) I ignored the comments because I didn’t want to be the attention of a pack of goons from the next day onwards.

Our conversation (trust me, that was the longest conversation I had pertaining to politics in my whole life) could have gone on and on hadn’t the police guy arrived again. Chandu called him over (as if he were an old friend) and told him that I was a perfect to be some Dineshji’s future wife. The policeman looked at me again and gave a weird expression. He asked Chandu to get some tea and biscuits for “Didiji” (well that’s me :-)). I refused, saying I didn’t drink tea. At this the policeman kicked at the butt of Gudiya’s father and blowing out some expletives said aloud in the local dialect “How could you let didiji sit on the bag for the whole night…she should have the whole berth” Then he mumbled sorry for his earlier inconsistencies and the bad experience I had in the train and with him. It looked funny to me to see the turn around in his behaviour….

Soon I had a whole berth to me. The people didn’t want to sit at the same berth because news had spread around that I was a high class Brahmin. I invited them over to sit instead of the floor and they looked at me with surprised pleasure- as if they hadn’t expected that out of a fellow human being. The last hour on the train was the most comfortable one an soon it was time to get home. I was worried about how I would get my luggage out but then I shouldn’t have- I had a whole compartment full of people willing to do something for me….I was escorted to the awaiting car and finally felt relaxed to be finally home(well almost).

I never joined politics and chose to be a consultant rather. Those people must have gone ahead with their lives affected but the churns in the political climate – a blanket here, a meal there, some cattle a bag of wheat….Mayawati is still the dalit Goddess and Chandu must be there acting as a link between one of the MLAs and the poor people , earning a few rupees in middle. The MLA’s son got married to a local business man’s daughter who was 11th dropout. Te marriage was covered by the local press. Gudiya must be 8 by now, ready to embark on the hard life of a woman in the Indian villages.

Do you think are we really free?

The Stranger

It was the longest 7 minutes of my life. It looked as if the clock had stopped and if it hadnt it was just going super slow. The railway station around me buzzed with people and sounds but then my mind didnt hear those...didnt see any of the it. It was busy bridging the events of the last 7 months, the last 7 days to what was going to happen in the next 7 months and 7 days. Seam by seam the bridge was being built...images from past and future flashed and I was smiling.....but Oh God!!it was still 6.5 minutes for the train from Frankfurt to arrive. It looked just yesterday that I had met you. By chance...by mistake. Maybe "met" is a wrong word. Because we would be meeting today for the first time....even thought the entire world knew that we have known each other for last 4 years, it was our best kept secret. That we had met online...while I was searching for someone with the same name. A kindergarden friend. It was a genuine mistake, that had turned out into a blessing. Conversation started...and before i could even think about blocking off this stranger...I found myself liking him...because of the way he said.."I dont think I know you...but then I have the memory of a mosquito". I decided to give this one stranger a chance because I could talk to him...he really looked like an old acquintence whom i had got out of touch for a while. The rest is history. In those last 7 months...even though we have been so far apart separated by the oceans of time zones and mountains of distances I had never ever felt happier, never more at peace with myself. Life looked complete because i knew u would be waiting for my missed calls, waiting for my mails or waiting just for today. No doubt it has been a long wait, but then worth it. We fell in love and on the basis of chats, photographs and occassional phone calls went ahead to tell our parents about the "perfect better half". Video chats came in but that was later...

And they say that love is blind. I disagree. The eyes may be blind but the soul is not. It recognizes a kindered spirit in seconds. We often used to laugh at ourselves. Two fiercely independent souls who have been fighting their families against arranged marriages meet virtually and decide to marry each other. That was crazy. But then in our case that was the truth. We had lied to our parents and closest friends that we had known each other as accquintences since the last 4 years (through some common friends) but then had strayed out of touch..and then had met again online recently and found each other perfect. Lie of the century.:) It is not that this period has been without doubts. I had my own doubts...accentured further by my mother's skeptism about the guy who is too old in her eyes and who has his own faults. But we had accepted each other the way we were...with minor variations of course. For all the guys I saw and met I didnt feel even a degree of connect i felt with you. But then more than the doubts..I was scared...and as I stand here at the railway station with 2 minutes still to go my hands go cold and clammy. What if you arent what I had expected? What if you are the part of the fake profiles on internet who blackmail people? What if ur everything I had ever wanted and u dont like me? What if??? A thouand questions...and within 2 minutes I shall have most of the answers..if not all. Ur eyes will tell me some of the truth..the rest I will find out for myself. I had visualized this moment maybe everyday in the past few months. Infact we had talked about how it would feel...Well kuch aur ho na ho...I can feel my heart beating wildly as louder than the sound of the train on the rails that arrives, carrying you. My eyes scan the whole train and I look around the milling crowds. I see you now...you look the same (Thank God..one question answered). You are searching for me...I hide behind one of the pillars to watch you...watch you to my heart's content. Because...I can repeat every moment but not this one...when I am standing at the threshold...of meeting this stranger who is my life. Your eyes hold a worried expression now..what happened to the girl who had promised to be here? Where is she? Your forehead has the same questions I had a few moments back...Is she fake? Was all this just a lie? I laugh inwardly at your discomfort (I know I have to pay the price for letting you know that I had spotted you earlier than u spotted me- but then all is fair in love and war). Since I am unsure, how to greet you...I dont have the courage to come up to you. So I just stand such that you can see me and wait for you to find me. Your eyes still are trying to put my face on a thousand other faces. Suddenly they look at me..the see me. Recognize me. Smile at me. But then you arent moving...like me. Maybe because like me u dont want to let go off this moment. This moment for which has been our solace in those long 7 months and the longer 7 days. It has been exactly 7 days now from the time when u told me that ur coming to meet me. Now ur walking towards me...maybe it would help if I take a few steps. I do and now we are stading centimeters away from each other....the bridge building is complete...now lies the the more difficult task of sustaining it.

In all our conversations till now we had said we would shake hands and hug when we meet for the first time. I had even imagined kissing you right at there. But then reality is different. I think I will burst looking at you forget kissing and feeling ur skin against mine. May be u also think the same. Because while I am still gaping at you, you say "hi....hi biwiji"...as u usually say over the phone. I hear the same love I hear every day..but this is different...I cant look straight into ur eyes becoz they make me melt.So I look at ur shoes and say hi and then look elsewhere. But then urnt saying anything so I look up again. Ur studying me....right here at the station...God!!Damn that researcher in u...I look again at ur shoes and then start walking towards the exit..thats the best thing to do at the moment. U follow and then i feel what I have been aching to feel for all these ages...ur hand on my shoulder...I look up again at you...and smile and it says that yes...this is how i had wanted it....wordless and perfect. As you put ur suitcase in the taxi I re-assess you...ur tall...which means I will have to step up on toes or maybe stand on ur feet to kiss you :) I smile at my thoughts and then ur looking back and smiling...we arent talking. But then this moment isnt for talking...the ride home is pretty uneventful. We joke,we talk about the journey and discuss the scenes as they race outside the taxi...but both of us know that this is superficial conversation. We are looking at each other when we think the other one is not looking. The truth is we have eyes just for each other.....And then just to thank you for the "hand on my shoulder act" at the station I decide to take the next step....I entwine my fingers with yours while ur looking out of the window. A cold hand against the warm one. You turn and look at the hands as they lay against each other and tighten the grip...it feels heaven...Oh no I forgot these are just the steps to heaven...the heaven is still to come.... :))) Home at last, as we turn into the familiar streets. Its dark and snowing heavily but then I feel warm. As i open the lock I hold ur hands again..after all I had wanted this house to see "us" not the individuals. But then I am nervous....alone in a house with a guy? And that too the one who has all the "wrong" intentions? And I dont have a degree of self control before him? Anyways. Once inside I show u around and then while I am trying to put distances between us u just stare at me. I ask if you would like to drink something and all you say is...sit for a while we have all our lives for the drinks...I sit on the opposite chair even though I know you would ask me to sit beside you. That is exactly what happens. I get up and sit next to you...you pull me closer and then I am noone to resist. We sit in that awkward hug and then all of a sudden we are talking...like we do over the chat and phone...talking all at once about everything...as if the hug has released our power of speech that our eyes had taken away the moment we had seen eac other. We shift to a more comfortable position and you kiss my forehead....I kiss back on the cheeks and just lie there feeling lazy electricity pass through me. Its easier to talk now...because now we are no longer strangers. We are what we were..what we have been always...lovers...same souls.

The door bell rings...I know who it is..Aditya of course....who else. He knows you are coming over and has come over to meet you. I go and open the door and the two of you meet like polished gentlemen are supposed to meet. I am laughing inwardly and i can see your eyes laughing as well...after all isnt that what we do everyday..laugh over Aditya? Anyways that gives us a good excuse to get the coffee that was supposed to be ready 40 minutes ago.Not that I am complaining. While you sit and chat with Aditya, I get the dinner ready. Like the perfect husband you are you come over and tell that we can do this later, together. And I say.."well, not today...I dont want to waste my time in cooking when we are alone". The glint in ur eyes is back and I am smiling....Finally the dinner is ready and Aditya is gone. We are alone again. Since you want it to be special....u insist on having a candle light dinner. It means we have to go to the shop. Ok...lets go...anything for u sweetheart. Its still snowing and this time when we hold hands its not to experience something new but to repeat the old ones....the touch is more possessive now. Enroute we decide to take a small walk, since its just 8:00PM and a bit too early for dinner. Also I want to show you the woods where I usually go for my walks. We walk close...arm in arm and the easy conversation and silences do a Shft+Delete to all my doubts and fears. After a while I take off the gloves of my right hand and put it in ur left one....who wants to hold a gloved hand when the skin is accessible. We click a couple of pics...faithful old Mr Camera has also come along and then when we are returning back you do one of those tricks that always manage to floor me. You get down on your knees and propose me...I am laughing now and when I say nothing and keep on laughing you make that typical "trying to be angry face" and say "arrey jaldi haan bolo...I cant keep kneeling in the snow forever...its hurting...and I hope u dont want me in bed for the next 7 days" To this i reply "Hmmm....of course I want you in bed but no I dont want a sick husband".And I come over and hold ur hands and say "Of course I will marry u". I think thats enough for today but then you are still not done. I forget that you lied to me when you said that you have the memory of a mosquito...you havent forgotten any of of the fantasies we had discussed. When I am least bit expecting it you pull me over under the street light and kiss me..on the lips. A small kiss but a kiss, real one at that and that too right under the street light and the snow. It couldnt get any better than this. Love sealed with the kiss...we head back home. That was the best dinner I ever had...we fed each other with hands and a simple meal of rice daal and vegetables worked like aphrodisiacs. sometime during the dinner my feet strayed and touched urs under the table...instead of drawing them back I let them stay there...after all my feet were finally home. I even let my toe nail trace a line across ur legs...it was fun to see a guy getting all worked up while he is talking about some thing else. Post dinner u decided to take a bath and asked me if I would like to join in....I refused (what else did u expect??) . And it was time for bed.My first night with the known stranger.

You walked into the bed room in the towel minus any clothes . I told you to be more "Indianised" and get some clothes over you. And as usual you said biwi ke samne kya sharam and threatened to open the towel right there. I screamed and closed my eyes (as usual) and when i opened them a split second later...u were standing minus the towel but thankfully in ur shorts, laughing away. Then as you were being the "original guy I loved" and were putting on the Tshirt (chauvnist guy...putting on the tshirt just to make his girl friend comfortable) I asked you to come without that. You looked at me to confirm if I was saying it out of pressure or watever...and then asked "pakka?" When I nodded a yes you just jumped into the bed...a jump that would have put all the racers and jumpers in the Olympics to shame :) This was heaven I way i had imagined it to be. Orange light streamed from the window and from where we lay in semidarkness we could see the snow falling. U smelt of hot water and soap and that was enough to drive me crazy. Our bodies adjusted to make spaces to each other as if they had known each other for centuries. My head was on ur shoulders and my arms around you. One leg over the other. none of us were breathing...because we were scared that if we move the moment may go away..as it had happened so many times earlier in dreams. After a while we relaxed and moved closer. Head on chest, ur one hand in my hair and the other on my stomach. My fingers nails doing a crazy run on your sides and chest.We were still talking but then the talk was about the moment...how good it felt. And I reminded you that the earthquake wasnt moving... :) To this you did a somersault so that I was right under you, firmly in place and I could feel the whole of you over me. I tried to squirm away but it wasnt going to be so easy. I tried to look away but then you wouldnt have any of it. I wanted this to continue but was scared at the same time. Finally I managed to get u off me just with a statement "tum bhari ho"..which was a lie of course. We regained our former positions- but of course things were heating up. We knew what was coming, we wanted it to come, but were delaying it because we wanted to be sure, or rather you wanted me to be sure. Well, i dont love you just like that!!

After a while I fell asleep. Maybe I slept just for a few moments, maybe 15-20 but then it washed off the day's tiredness. I woke up all of a sudden and could hear u breathing evenly in half sleep. I watched you for a while and then desire took over. I kissed your lips and you woke up startled..but then relaxed back. I tried to move away but you wouldnt let me...so i let my lips stay there...right on ur lips...while we filled our lungs with each other's breaths. You kissed slowly at first and then we caught up because it felt good and inviting. One kiss made way to another and after a while it all was just one long long kiss...kisses everywhere...forehead, eyes, nose cheeks, ears, neck, breasts...stomach, the spine and up again (I said up...not down :P). My t shirt was off me but i guess that was fair enough..since u were there minus the tshirt as well. we kissed and slept and kissed and slept. Kissed while sleeping and slept while kissing. That was the first night. When morning came and I opened my eyes...my first thought was I should give u a missed call as usual. But then i realised that u were right there beside me. You were looking at me....and I smiled in the memory of the night spent...over how our bodies touched each other inside the quilt. Even the slightest movement set them on fire. I got my good morning kiss and then just lay there enjoying THE moment. My moment, our moment.