Ahh..
When
you spend a nice time at home, and you need to go back to bid bye to
some old friends, to make some new ones at a new place; the memories of
overwhelming joy are suppose to take over you. They did not- until very
very late.
I Sat in train to get back to pune for my farewell – saw the tickets are of yesterday. Bought
general ticket for the correct day. ‘Convinced’ T.T.to upgrade me to 3rd
ac .. Whatever was “necessary”- paid (like I had an option) and got upgraded.
Woke
up at 6 am to see train stopped on some deserted, arbitrary station to
see- its raining cats and dogs, trees are shattered and road flooded.
Waited till 6:45 am (6:40 am being the original time to
reach Bombay). Then got down to get a cab for pune directly. The cab person
said he will take 9,000 Rs.
I asked “thousand”? He said “ok… 8,500… This is the minimum
from Surat to Pune”. Shockingly I asked, “surat”..? Means “Gujarat”??
He gave me a look , “Are you a foreigner, dude?”
Immediately ran back to train and saw the train moving.
Dashed at 10-15 kmph with luggage in ‘Dilwale Dulhaniya Le jayenge’ (DDLJ) style
to get back…
[for the unknown, DDLJ
is a hindi movie, which has famous scene of a girl running to catch the train for the love of her life... yeah! romantic sh*t]
No food, no water (yup! The pantry car got empty way back in
time), little money. And I never cared to carry cash because some stupid
advised me once “Cards are a lifeline, always”.
I thought this journey will be a great journey to start
with. Turned out to be the same.
With an empty stomach, two apples and few choclates to eat,
I slept as much as I could, made a few friends and made some weird plans.
“This time- after two years”, I had earlier thought, “ it’s
the right time to reinvent the wheel and decided to take a train for a change,
instead the regular flight.” I ditched the air and the ground ditched me. 14
hours… Kill me! I mean, Which superfast train gets late by “fourteen hours” !
Anyways, approaching Bombay, I jumped out from a slow moving
train to get down at some necessary station in Bombay, which was not a defined
stop. I also convinced two other unknown people to do the same. When turned
back and saw the station boards, realized- Jumped on a wrong station.
“Darr ke aage jeet hai, dadar ke aage seat hai”
In the similar hope, boarded a filled-till-brim local train
to get back at the correct station to shorten the route for pune- ‘without
ticket’…
And a stupid guy amongst the other two got caught…
Took his luggage too. Told him to run his heart out.
Got saved.
"When I accepted life was a bitch, she gave puppies."
Went to cab counter- only zen available.
On the flooding roads time running out f my hand, “zen? That’s slow guys, isn’t it?
Don’t have time for that..”, I exclaimed. Told the cab counter guy to buzz off.
Went on to search other cabs in other counters. All sold out.
Went back to the same counter after three minutes precise. Zen
sold out. (“That was fast!”)
Twisted the knives with the customers and took the cab at a
higher price. “zen” .. finally .
Realised there is shit traffic on road . As the luck plays, we were
here on a longer, traffic jammed, painful route.
Miserable? Not yet…
This Zen guy never crosses 80 kmph . Reason?
Because his mother died at 80 kmph.
I mean WTF!! Couldn’t doctors or whosoever could have told
him 180 kmph? More, who takes stupid decisions as this?
Over and above, he keeps his margin of 20, so as to ‘never’
violate 80. So, practically we never crossed 60 kmph for over an hour and a
half.
Humph! Finally managed to convince him to acceleate to 75
kmph on highway.
No time for stopping as many people were waiting for me in
the beautiful volleyed city called “Pune”. So the other had to suffer and
travel without food. I guess this sacrifice they had to make to travel with a
‘fighter jock’.
After droppig both of them at the railway station, headed
straight for my destination. Not even 7 kilometres passed post railway halt,
one dumba** reminded himself that he had forgotten one cellphone in the car in
the back seat.
Jesus! Another 20 minutes wasted. Gave the same to him and
came back for the party, afraid in mind everybody would be sleeping, cursing;
worse- could have gone home.
1:30 am- And here I stood, everyone dancing, merry and gay.
Music, drinks and hugs all around. Smiles were in the air. Being thrown up in
the air- really felt good. Everything was so lively until a bunch of people
(I’m yet to figure out who…) put different alcohol bottles in my mouth. Things
became blurry since.
A scenario which happened the first time in my profession
ever. A party thrown, posters made, mimicry done, mementos given, speeches
made- for a person’s farewell. But that ‘person’ himself not being available
for his own farewell- until very very late. But whenever he did, it was
made memorable by an amazing set of people.
Missing some old buddies across the country and world, all laughter
and memories were taken home- just to find some other friends from the sister
service and their beautiful girlfriends waiting at the doorstep. Party wasn’t over yet!
Another set of quite laughter, watching stars and giggling
on weird stuff. And bidding them bye for the beautiful ending.
The day slept with weird sms'es to few lovely friends and an
amazing call in the wee hours.
Nothing extra- ordinary. The ordinary made extra…. 12th
July 2013- You’ve been inscribed into memory.
And the journey continues….
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BE_ME
