Tuesday, 6 October 2009

a sudden, warm post.

There are times when one is personal without wanting to be; those are the most personal times of one's brief life. A life lived out publicly for mostly others...society is a dangerous necessity, a bad habit that grows on one, until the habit becomes a compulsion and then bang!poof! you realize it, you call it alienation, you feel like an outsider and you read Camus or Kafka.

Tonight however, I do not feel like an insect. I do not feel like Beckett's ugly tramp who could only hope of an erection on the gallows, I do not feel like a man who caused his favourite forest to be decimated, or like an unnamed protagonist who inhabited, for a night, an enchanted haunted castle...translated the hungry stone.

I feel like a young boy who will see a train for the first time. This, my friends, is not a metaphor for modernity, this is my favouritest writer Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay encapsulating the spirit of adventure in a single defining image, and Satyajit Ray captured it. He did.

I have also realized that life is a lovely meandering path and I am a lovely meandering train belonging to the Indian Railways pre-Rajdhani and definitely pre-Duronto Express ( and in Hindi is it called the Turant Express?) Of course trains don't have friends (they have ministers but no friends :( ...alas) but this train does. I am like Thomas the Tank Engine, a lovely fictional anthropomorphic steam locomotive created by the Rev. W. V. Awdry as one of a number of characters in his Railway Series books, first published in the 1940s. Check this-

The above being a childhood addiction, before Pogo came onto the scene with bad Hindi dubbing. Stop me if I bore you. Actually you can't, this is my blog. Muhahahaha. And so, today I also realized that while some attachments are lost, nothing ends, as long as memories remain, as long as people remain, love lingers. And love, to put it mildly, is a very powerful thing. It breaks nations and hearts, so think of the scope, dear reader.

You may cringe at the cliches raining upon you. But my heart is warm, my intentions are good, my teeth are white, and underarms don't stink. Life could get worse than this. I could bore you with details of Woody Allen's sex life. Actually I couldn't, I don't know myself.

If you hate me, then I don't care. Some people do love me. One day I will stop causing them pain and buy them champagne. (OK this didn't quite sound right.)

Ore baba, to Colaba!


Mer-curial-maiden said...

Warm it is :)

Tangled up in blue... said...

I remember that scene from Pather Panchali..they call it "discovering the train" here..

as if you find something that never did exist for you before..

and as we grow up, we seem to feel that wonder less and less..

I, however, never got a real chance to know the Railway Series before I found Bob the Builder and thought it ridiculous..too bad for me..

Trains with friends.

And who needs the ministers anyway? :D

Its fun to go it alone..especially when you're going to Colaba!


Hastalavista! as long as we're doing the sign-off lines! ;)

Anonymous said...

Duronto express is called duronto only everywhere across India.

precisely said...

love this post. love you. :)

Minka said...

Yes,turant express doesn't sound right.It makes you believe that there is a train out there which is made to order and will emerge out of the blue the moment you call for it.
Duronto though does sound funny.Those who named it clearly knew from before that it would misbehave and have several accidents.Seriously, Indian Railway officials do have an evil sense of humour.Also possibly they have a brilliant imagination and believe that even trains can have lives of their own.
Am I making any sense?

Anurima. said...

i want champagne. but before that, i want to taste wine. while eating kababs. sigh.