You must have seen Shakira shake her hips. Now watch it once more :)
This was an impromptu dance of a bunch of crazy guys inhabiting the 3rd wing of Godavari Hostel at IIT Madras. Particularly watch out for Tejas (in blue full sleeved at the back) and Bharath at the denouement.
This semester I had a course "Short Story Classics." And we had to write a story as part of the course. Here's my humble attempt.
When I wake, up it is ten o'clock. As I grudgingly open my eyes and look down from my upper berth, for a minute I am confounded whether by mistake I am in a Mumbai local. But then I forget that this is quintessential Tata/Dhanbad-Allepey- the only train I believe, where you experience India within a span of 32 hours. There being only one direct link between my hometown and Chennai, inevitably I have to relive this experience at least 4 times a year.
However I have never a felt any sense of deja vu, rather what unfolds in each journey is a hitherto unknown page of the same old chapter in the book of my life. The fact is I have come to relish these journeys as opportunities for reflection and contemplation. It was in such a journey that I had planned that perfect proposal. Alas, if only things went as smoothly as planned. I mean how on earth do you account for aberrant weather in such a case. That my friends makes for another story altogether and I shall not bore you with that here. As I was saying, train journey in India is an experience in itself.
I love looking out of the train window. I watch as the tress fly by while the mountains behind it try to race with the train, but eventually they also fall behind. The golden sun behind the mountains follows me further before that also is swallowed among the orange clouds. As the blanket of darkness slowly engulfs the world around me, I suddenly feel very small. I feel scared and alone in a train chugging along amidst an unending wilderness. Not a single ray of light-the mark of civilization at night- is visible till the eyes can see. But the gush of cold air on my face never felt so refreshing. All the tension of placements, career, future, app and job are cleansed out of my system and th rush of cool forest air that goes into my lungs breathes a new life within.
The window is soon closed as it gets colder with the progress of night. There are three couples in my compartment-each from a different walk of life. One newly engaged, who retire together to an upper berth and carry on with their honeymoon oblivious of the stares of curious children, angry mothers, and hawkers who look with an air of nonchalance mixed with resignation. Another couple have a small kid with them who kept himself busy eating something or the other and jumping on me throughout the journey. Currently the couple are engaged in cleaning up the mess created by the apple of their eyes, and I decide never to travel long-distance on a train with the future-apple-of-my-eye. The third couple is past their prime, maybe retired from their jobs as well. The lady is involved in knitting intricate patterns with two sewing needles, and the man is saying something about the cold in India and the coming elections. If I remember correctly, he had started with Pakistan about an hour ago, and I have been nodding my head since then.
But I am soon bored of looking at people. They are always the same. Unlike the darkness beyond the windows which provokes a new thought every time you stare into it.
