Makeover!

It has been over a year since I travelled by the Shatabdi between Singaara Chennai and Bengaluru. As I hurriedly walked along platform 2A to board the Shatabdi, its new sleek look with steel coloured body caught my eye. I remember dismissing it off as a superficial, cosmetic indulgence of no consequence and braced my self to endure a 5 hour journey of cramped leg space, crying babies and if my luck was rotten, a steady AC blast to irritate my sensitive sinuses.

I was stumped when I got into my coach. I stood at the doorway with dropped jaws. The huge glass windows reminded me of a Kajol – Shah Rukh sequence from DDLJ – only that the scene through the glass was not that scenic. As I kept thinking of one random movie song after another, I was subconsciously yanking at the door – which for some strange reason refused to open.

An exasperated gentleman tapped me on my shoulder and sadly shook his head from side to side and showed me a big bright green sign that said “Slide to open”. He was a sure shot middle management type guy – suit, laptop, blackberry… and he gave me a look that said – “These village girls…” I was too consumed by the redone interiors of the train to process his look-down-upon-you attitude. I stepped into the coach and walked slowly – absorbing the swanky interiors – jaw still dropped, so much so I caused a traffic jam of sorts.

The upholstery is now a pleasant sea green with some super soft felt kind of fabric as against the drab grey earlier, the storage space is a kickass see through plastic slab fitted with reading lights, no more musty cloth curtains – there are now some awesome pull down screens, the leg space feels like I am flying business class and the leg rests have been placed more intelligently. I kept playing with the reading lights, only to corroborate the middle mgmt guy’s impression of me! And yeah – the AC ducts are now distributed evenly through the length of the train and I did not have to do through my SOP for fighting cold.

As I settled in, I was handed out a newspaper - characteristic salmon pink with my company’s name splashed on it that made me smile with pride. And much to Mr. Middle mgmt’s surprise, I actually read the paper!

I slept like a baby, read a great book and knew that a great weekend lay ahead of me. Could it be more perfect?

Back after the hiatus!

An analysis of my writing trends throws up some weird facts. I write when I am at the extremities of my moods – anger, depression, hurt, betrayal. Or then I write when I am terribly bored, and interestingly all my boring day writing has been during all my inductions!

Every time I write and discover the joys of it, I keep telling myself that I will stay in touch with myself, the world around me, my opinion of events - by writing regularly… Not so much to send out a message to the world. I don’t think anybody has the time or the interest to read some inconsequential account of thoughts. It is just for closure - I think a lot - and being able to crystallize my thoughts is like achieving closure for all the randomness that goes through my brains. And yeah, just in case people have the time to read and comment, to engage in a debate. Or maybe just to gloat in blissful happiness with a good comment!

Well, I am hoping that with my association with a company in the print media space, the energy and creativity of all the brains around me will compel me to keep going!

Olympus in Wreck

I remember the well in my garden,
Cradled by the ladies’ incessant babble,
While infants engaged in playful dabble.
Flowers bloomed by giggling streams,
Teasing boys and girls’ screams.
Angry waves broke like a wailing child on the shore,
Shells we picked till our feet went sore.
As dawn kissed the horizon,
The sand shimmered like the gold in the receding sun.
Purple turned the wide blue yonder,
“How far are the stars”, I used to wonder …

A familiar blare breaks my reverie,
Only to remind me that we would soon go down the pages of history.
My unassuming life is now in a quandary,
One of strife and disharmony.
The well still stands sturdy beyond my broken house,
No water - only blood does it douse.
Teasing boys are now armed men it seems,
Painful shrieks screen playful screams.
I still wander by the shore with fear,
For you never know when it is your turn here.
The waves thankfully still commensurate,
Just that the “shells” that I pick mis – mate.

Yet again dawn kisses the horizon,
While I wonder when death would oblige me.
Twinkling stars are overshadowed by
Puissant fireworks in the sky.
I have now learnt that the stars are not very near,
And it feels like I have lost somebody dear.
For they formed the only cloak of solace I could masquerade in,
I now stand fleeced despite having done no sin.

While I ponder about the ghastly animation of time,
I wait for my garden to be cleared off mines.
Screaming unheard, I cry in pain,
Although I know my efforts would go in vain –
Is there anybody who could wake me up and tell me it is all a dream?