Hiya folks!
This is going to be a very short post. I know, I know that this title is weird and there’s no point in writing this one. But, this is my first on-the-fly post. So, you all can excuse my total lack of a subject.
(This is inspired by Facebook Live and Instagram Live, I now realise)
I’m sitting at the railway station at Bangalore right now and scribbling with this real awful handwriting, whatever I’m seeing around me. I will flabbergast myself with the crap that is my penmanship in a couple of hours when I start transcribing.
(It really IS awful)
My earphones belt out the majestic tune of Emperor Akbar from the movie Jodhaa Akbar (its Tamil version). I watch a pair of shiny ballerina slippers in a beige colour tread past my giant red travel-trolley. I like the small flat bows atop their tips. There’s that relentless cockroach (it made me pull out my notebook in the beginning) peeking from the edge of the platform again. It vanishes as a kid in a pink sweater is being helped onto the train by his mother.
The air is cold. The opposite pages of my scribbling book flutter in the breeze. The guy next to me travelling with a Jayachandran Textiles shopping bag (Yes, the branch from my hometown) gets up to walk around with a phone pressed to his ear. The train sitting at my platform is the one that has been scheduled to leave before mine arrives. The lights are still down and people move around within its darkened carriages, holding up their phone torch lights.
A couple of people who are seeing off their friends, have been leaning against the windows, talking. The train sways on its tracks a little as the brake is lifted for a second. Those people are startled at the movement. Lights come on as if on cue.
I spy a tattered lungi walk past out of the corner of my eye. I wonder how girls travel with any peace dressed in netted taffeta materials?
I suddenly panic about missing my train and check the time. It’s only 8:07. Phew, what a relief!
My heavy laptop bag is weighing down my lap. I try to shift it away, but, it’s the only flat surface on which I can write. So I replace it on my lap.
Seems like my MP3 player has programmed itself to play only A. R. Rahman’s music. Oh, wait. I’d added only those to the player! 😀
There’s a thin old man with a shock of grey hair. He has a child of four in his arms. That mango-yellow hoodie is so sweet-looking! ❤
Okay now, you’ve gotta be kidding me! Sleeveless top with jean SHORTS? During Winter? REALLY?
-_-
I think I’m gonna need my sweatshirt myself. The air is CHILLY.
Whoa! Twins! One had straightened hair, of course, she ain’t a little child! And the other has natural waves! How cool! I don’t generally meet twins ever, unless you count those who’d gone to my school, whom I’d had to meet everyday.
Finally, something smells nice! The two men sitting nearby eat their dinner. I suppress a burp as my tummy churns pleasantly.
Bangalore City Junction, Platform Five, has a pretty awning type thing keeping off rain and sun. I don’t know what it’s called exactly. I like it very much though. My feet jiggle to the new song on my player as I seek out interesting things to report.
Oh, I just remembered! I was so stupid as to forget the new dress for tomorrow’s puja at my home here before I left for the station. I curse myself once again for that. I am so NOT looking forward to tomorrow morning when my mom curses me for doing that as well.
Hmm.. I wonder how often do they scrub clean trains?
Holy-moly, there is an announcement! Oh God, a train scheduled for tonight has been re-scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’d better check my own! Be back in a bit!
I’m back!
There is no problem with mine, thank God! I was already bummed about reaching my Madurai home AFTER the Pongal has been cooked. Thankfully, there are no further delays!
Okay, what was I on, before?
Yeah, the cleaning!
I see that the external walls of this train – OMG OMG!!!!
That cockroach is scampering under my seat! Please, please, please do NOT climb up!!!!
I’m signing off! Bye bye, folks!
Forget all about the cleanliness of trains!
I do not care!
When I was young and naive enough to believe I had a good shot at making a living as a free-lance writer, I attended lots of writer’s workshops. They were always interesting, and some of the tips helped me place articles with local magazines and neighborhood newspapers. I never did make a lot of money as a writer…my largest claim to fame was a short article in Bride’s magazine and the publication of one (count it, one) children’s book. Still, I learned a lot in those workshops about writing, and especially about the delicate balance between giving an editor whatever he or she wants and developing my own unique “voice.”
