I am back...

The separation of 6 months and 9 days, the pain of 6 months and 9 days, come to an end on Dec 11, 2010.

I don’t remember when last I cried. Last 15 years were so busy, I couldn’t notice that my eyes not only lost some power but also tears. After reaching Bangalore I had to show my face to my managers for a week before I could go my home and see my new born son. Seeing my son for first time was my curiosity, traveling the length of mother land was the passion. This could have been possible only if I traveled by the Great Legendary Indian Railway.

I have written couple of exp-stories (read self experience stories) in which trains are back bone. Going forward you are going to read more stories which will run with trains. Trains give me a broader view of India which leads to an Experience Rich Journey.

In my office, people were expressing surprise on my decision to travel by train. They said, “You just came back with a lots of dollars in your hands, why didn’t you chose to travel by flight. You could have saved some time”. I just made an excuse that no flight tickets were available at that time but I had a different agenda in my mind. I wanted to see my people, my country. Hence I am traveling in Karnataka Express, Compartment S4 and seat number 48.

Currently train is passing from the grate lands of Maratha. It is morning 6:00 A.M.

While I am writing this, I am sitting on side lower berth. Many passengers are walking back and forth in the passage between side and main berths. Which is a disturbance for me but this was the price (in addition to few more) which I had to pay to meet my people, to see my lands, to meet the Indian inside me.

Inside the compartment, there were 10 people. The 2 extras were wait listers. I was thankful that we had only 2 in our compartment. Most of them were busy in tackling their morning requirements (rather compulsion) except a teen age boy in next compartment who are playing Hindi translation of verses of Quran on speaker phones of his made in China mobile phone. Suddenly his phone refused to broadcast any more of Quran verse and started dancing (vibrating) on a Bhojpuri song which was not double meaning (In short, he got a call and his phone started ringing and vibrating). The ringtone was selectively chosen to tell a girl that the boy will land his Bihari Missile in her Bay Of Bengal. Listening to this another fellow passenger started smiling with proud. This historical incident started spreading like plague. A few minutes later I heard couple of more Bhojpuri Song which was only single meaning.

Outside, there was, the black soil of central west India, Suger cane, cotton plants, small and large pounds, cows and goats.

I went to the door opened it and here I felt something which is beyond my writing skills to narrate. The fresh air, view of birds flying across, started filling my heart with joy and emotions. I wanted to touch the soil and railway immediately fulfilled my wish. The train started slowing down and eventually stopped due to unavailability of clear signal. In our country may people still think that the driver stops the train for his personal benefits. In trains, the driver and the almighty are treated same. If journey ends safe and successful, they aren’t troubled but if there is any delay, people curse them.

I came down, so as many others. Most of them started getting rid of the natural calls in form of fluid. Why people get down from train in such conditions and start searching for a suitable corner for a piss. I have understood this mystery. Pissing in open is a great joy. He who has done this can only understand and hence I am saying – Every Indian know about this extra ordinary pleasure. I will not hesitate to say that this act gives a satisfaction which is next to an orgasm.

I went to a field, it was recently ploughed. I grabbed a handful. It was little wet due to morning moist. I smelled it, sat down on my knees. I am not sure why I am so attached my Indian soil. This may sound little dramatic but I felt wetness in my eyelids. Not sure after how many days. I can’t define and describe this relation. No one can in my opinion.

To me, probably soil attracts the soul it makes. Probably the soil was lovingly complaining. Probably the soil was saying, where were you these days. No one cares for me. I am so unfortunate that I nourish more than 100 billion man, women and child but only a few say thank to me. Only a few cry for me. In last 60 years, only a few came to me and cried for me. I love you my son. These 6 months, I cried for you every moment. I missed you a lot my son.

My knees were still in the soil, currents of emotions were waving in and out of me. When I was 3 years old, my mother went to see a relative for one day leaving me back home. The whole day I pretended to be brave and didn’t let my emotions come out. But next day when my mother came back home and hugged me... we both started crying. Now no one was brave. None can explain this connection. We just see the effects.

The train signaled, I came back to my berth. My compartment-met were busy in worldly affairs. I went to restroom, saw the mirror. My eyes were radish. My face was glowing. My heart was light, same as it was when I cried with my mother. I smiled, a true smile, after many days...