Writer's Blog

Transient Thoughts

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Picture Postcards

Words speak better than pictures.

One.
This happened the last time I went home which was less than two weeks back. I was sitting at my recently discovered favourite place, by the railway tracks. There was the sound of tracks being shunted. A train. An unexpected surprise. (Why unexpected you might ask, after all its a railway track you are sitting next to! Well ask!) I waited for the familiar passenger train with affectedly interested looking passengers. You were a strange unknown person to them if they saw you. They were strange unknown people to you if you saw them. (When they taught us relative-speed in school by giving examples of an observer inside and outside a train, you know, they could have made a much more profound job of it.) So I waited for a passenger train.

I saw the engine emerge, then next I seemed to see a truck. Before my mind could compute that this was perhaps a Goods train, I saw another truck. Before I could capture that both the first truck and this one were loaded with goods - tarpaulin, ropes and all - I saw the third truck. (I am not particularly slow-headed but one must remember it was a moving train). By the time I saw the fourth, fifth and sixth trucks I had realized that these were just trucks being ferried across a short distance by Konkan Rail - in order to avoid the time, distance and cost of negotiating the western ghats. I also observed that the drivers were sitting in the drivers' seats (respectively).

More trucks came and went. The whole thing resolved in my mind, I was able to relax, watch, and smile at the rest of the sight without any further thinking.




Two.
I was going to office early. It had rained before and all the roads were freshly washed (away). There was a semi-mist around and the air was fresh. As I prepared to go around the circle, I saw the Ambassador parked on the side. The bonnet was up and smoke/steam was coming out of it. Someone had his head inside the bonnet and was trying to fix whatever had gone wrong.

On the glass behind (the peeche-wala windshield, don't know what it is called) was painted 'Pleasant Travels'.




Three.
The self-service x-Sagar restaurant was crowded. I bought a coupon for tea and went there at the service window/counter and thrust my hand through trying, to shove the coupon below the nose of one of those guys on the other side. Lots of other people were trying to do similar things with their coupons. There were others who had already handed in their coupons and were waiting to get their food. Once in a while a plate of idli-wada or set-dosa appeared and a satisfied hand and mouth went away from the counter. There was shouting, muttering, urging, threatening and cajoling in various tongues and various accents as hungry people tried impatiently to get at their breakfasts. The combined sound was not very different from 'kaw-kaw-kaw'. It reminded me of a bird's nest where the young, impatient, desperate bird-lings were being impartially fed by the patient father or mother.

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