ri-rick..di-rick

Trains... that go ri-rick..di-rick... ri-rick di-rick. Swaying gently ... lulling it's passengers in a cocoon of steel. I have always loved trains. The disorganized organization in the stations.. the vendors selling books, food items, toys, chains and locks.. (all this in India of course...). And the 'coolies' The men in red shirts that carry luggage.. arguing with people. The train announcements in three languages.... In the midst of all that excitement, the train waits serenely.. arriving and leaving at it's appointed moment (usually) with no consideration for the shouts and screams of others. One sees people waving through the windows, peering through some searching for their loved ones... running to buy a last minute snack or reading material.

And once we are travelling.. it is another kind of life. Sitting down or sleeping... walking up and down a bit. making friends... or staring at the person sitting next to you or across from you. But most of the time, I would look outside the window. The second class coaches in india have open windows with grilled bars to prevent people from falling out. So, a brisk warm wind blows in most of the time. Of course, if it is raining or too cold, we get to close the window with a glass shutter or a steel shutter with vents.

And we fly past cities and towns... little villages consisting of a few houses, a cow or two grazing in the backyard. Fields after fields...brown, green or black depending on the time of the year. Sometimes, all one sees are rocky plains surrounded by rocky hilld. Some people wave to you. Sometimes, they are busy using the area as an open air bathroom and they rather you were not there to stare at them. But all the time, the train keeps flying past. Not waiting to give me a second glance of something... but like a film at a theatre... moving on all the time.

I spent a lot of time in trains yesterday. I caught a train to Purdue. The soft swaying of the train, the clicking of the wheels as they bounced from one rail to another.. all of it took me far away. And then there was the view from the window. villages and towns....a few lights in the distance...marking the presence of humanity. Trees swept by, dark and morose. Canals and shiny snaking rivers...

The beauty of it all kept me awake.

And then there was the book. 'The Namesake' by Jhumpa Lahiri. A very wonderful book. There were times when I looked up from the book, and away, to stop the onslaught of tears that seemed to be perched at the edge of my eyes. It spoke of love and confusion. Of family and responsibilities. I wanted to call my parents, tell them how much they meant to me, and always have. I have stayed aloof..and yet, I feel so close. Today, I realized that I know nothing of their childhood. Nothing of their actual dreams and desires. Their goals as children. Their lives. I have always assumed that they lived to take care of me and that I was their responsibility and that was that.

I feel awakened and caught in a cage. But I am confident and happy too. It is the knowledge that is important. I am young and flexible..and I do hope that I do not make the mistakes that I have learnt through other people. After all, in a sense, reading a good book means living the life of the characters.