"Ting ting ting. Train No.2852 Bilaspur Express from Chennai to Bilaspur will depart shortly from platform no.1". We hurriedly kissed goodbye and settled down in our berths. I suddenly discovered that there were rats rumbling in my tummy. Though I had just consumed a hearty dinner of 4 dosas, a couple of dhoklas and a large glass of orange Tang, my stomach still growleth and I rushed to gratify it. And chocolate cake it was. Two sumptuous pieces of home-made choco cake and Mr. Pet(read pate) was sufficiently appeased.
Now obviously sleep followed. And a blissful one at that. Fourteen hours straight. I had broken my own records. Then again it was time for some more "pet puja"(Well,yeah, it’s an eternal cycle). So now it was time for some yumm sandwiches and a cup of piping, hot tea. Followed, of course, by some more cake. (If I were chosen to represent one of the seven sins, it would definitely have to be gluttony)
And then I sat next to the window, gazing out lazily onto the lush green fields, when this thought struck me – "Hey! Now this will make a decent blog post". So that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it all began. While scribbling busily on to my notepad I was interrupted by a shout of "masala channa!masala channa!".i jumped with elation ,and demanded pounced on the owner of this mellifluous voice "dus rupaiye ka channa" ah! Heaven!
Anyhow, I can see you all drooling over your keyboards and ,that’s bad hygiene ,so let’s move over to things less unhygienic. Well, there are two things I enjoy most about train journeys. First is the food (Duh!) and second, the sights.
So now moving over from food for the palate to food for the eye. My acutely myopic eyes, aided by Zeiss spectacle lens, witnessed an array of beautiful sights. The soft blue sky melting into the earth at the horizon, the lush green fields with the long grass swaying to the tunes of the hot breeze, the many huts – dotting the rich, brown earth, the serene ponds and lakes with green weed floating on them, the many cows and buffaloes holding conference amongst themselves, the dull red brick-kilns, the various rocks – some shaped like animals, some like you and me, the magnificent mountains rising gently to ultimately reach a crescendo, the beauteous flora of many wild colours - pinks, reds, purples and blues, the long winding queues of vehicles at railway crossings and last but the best, the little kids waving gleefully at the passing trains. And to think that these director duds go all the way to Switzerland when there is soo much beauty in our own backyards.
This apart, there are quite a few "items" you get to meet inside the train as well. For starters, there is the ubiquitous uncle who seems to have something to say on everything from politics, the Godhra carnage, the wather and my hairstyle. He is of course accompanied by the aunty with an akshayapatram of snacks – muruku, thengozhal, mixture, sweets, chips, chocolates, you name it and she has it. Ten there is the quintessential morose couple whose mouths are sealed with invisible cellotape and the only noise they emit are inaudible grunts.
And then there are the kids – some, little angels and some, little devils.
Anyhow, it’s time for me to wrap up for I can hear distant shouts of " Ice cream, Ice cream, Vanilla, Strawberry Ice cream!!!" so goodbye my dear reader(s) and hog aplenty.