It is amazing how a day I should be proud of, begins with many things I am ashamed of. But I realize I am not a consequential being. Freedom earned, freedom gained in a particular context means little to a mind grappling with freedom from a spiralling thought processes. Efforts, sincerity of purpose, struggle seem to draw nothing. Just like the words. This last bit hurts more than everything else. About a decade ago, I had addressed a fellow being, thinking something mattered. Something might move. A heart, a character, a system, a humanity. I see the parade of the Americans, the Russians, the Taliban, the Israeli, of the right and of the left. I see death of soldiers and terrorists. I see victors and vanquished. Everyone seem to be in a state of eternal existence with no conclusiveness. Then there is the rapist and the raped. As much as I hate to bring them in the same sentence the butchery of living demands, that I do. There is the system and the anti-system in which they try to eke
Pre-World Soaked in a pink glow with a texture of white, the place made me forget all my woes. It was a beautiful morning in the big city and I was out for breakfast with my brother. The pleasant setting was enlivened further when the breakfast was served. It looked Instagram-worthy, and tasted good. The delightful setting also made me forget it was 10:05 am and the time to book a tatkal AC coach seat on the Indian Railways was already gone. Ideally, it is one hour but practically it hardly lasts beyond a minute. A happy day it was, except now I booked a non-AC tatkal at 11 am, which wasn’t a problem ‘AC’ wise, because I prefer open windows. But... The Journey Begins From an idyllic morning in the big city to the next one, on its busy platform, filled with early morning commuters and busy office goers; this was one of my many rendezvous with unwritten rules of Indian train travel. It begins with the fact that most of the long-distance commuters in this country have to travel with