And it was not a fun-trip. It was a trip for a medical reason.
I hate so much being a patient!!
So I hated this trip. So I hated this train. So I hated this B2 compartment.
So I tried to ignore the faces.. the smells...the colors..the sounds. I tried to ignore the whole repertoire that is offered in an Indian train-journey... as if I am invisible in the whole journey... as if I am non-existent.
So I sneaked out a place in the upper compartment and tried to sleep ..making me numb from all external sensations . Sleeping can be sometimes being on a drug!!
Sleeping can be sometimes a boring experience also. Its more so when its purposeful, like it was this time.
So after sleeping for most of the time out of first 24-hrs and realizing that there would be more than 24 hrs to spend here , given the performance of the express train, I tried to give a look at my surroundings.
And then there is this small girl of class seven..clad in a white tshirt and blue jeans...she possibly hates sitting idle. She already be-friended the didibhai, the kaku.. the bearded man who eats something in every halt the train takes, the jethu...the balded old man with a cute smile on his face by that time and picked up the conversation with them as and when they are walking thru the passage.
Chirpy.But the correct expression can be ... brimming with life...
And to her, possibly I was like an unfriendly creature which only devours lot of food and sleeps...she said this to me later on about the impression she had about me...
Our interaction started when a baby cockroach tried to sneak below her floaters..and then I cautioned her and she removed her legs alarmingly..
And the pep-talk started..and continued..
She talked about how she loves to chase the kites.. how wonderful the boat-trip is which she used to take in bangladesh...how rude the immigrant persons can be in India-Bangladesh border..how much she loves the special omlette her mom prepares...
She talked about how she was rebuked by her mom when she saw the movie page-3...
She gushed about how much she loves the character Himu, penned by Humayun Ahmed..
the reason why she loves Himu is because Himu wears Kurta.
She talked about how she and her cousin-sister used to choose the cute boys on the road and assigns them either to herself or the cousin-sis.
And then she talked about her dream of marrying a billionaire which will give her liberty of buying new dresses on every day.
So she thought about her choices...she will marry a gujrati as she will get lots of ornaments.
She will marry a Sarangi(boat-man) as he will take her on boat-trip.
And she will,off course, marry a billionaire.
Well, there is one condition.. the boys should wear kurta as Himu wears it.
We talked about the funny incidents.. we talked about the music we like..we played the game of guessing the characters.
In some context, she said .." see, now I am the only sister of you, at least in this train"..
and i thought, we are almost friends..
It was almost revisiting my child-hood..we were waving hands to the strangers from the gate of the train.
And then she became sad when the train was about to reach my destination .. so did I..
I dint have my mobile-number, yet...and she does not have the email-id either..
So we dint share any contact-details...only that we shared our childhood with each other.
Human-stories are so enriching..
I disemabarked from Yahwantpur Xpress, waving hands to my small friend...
Thank you, Yashwantpur Express...
