Train of thought!

So I am heading back to Delhi. Had an amazing stay at Simla, again. Four days of doing absolutely nothing except hogging delicious burgers, sipping coffee ground from fresh beans, avoiding baths and roaming around Mall Road with my best cousins and their family. Simla never fails to impress. The people are willing to work for you at one-fourth the wages in Delhi, that too with honesty as an add-on. Local crowd is surprisingly well-behaved, what with little girls asking for paper-bags instead of plastic, men addressing women with sincerity and always departing with deep smiles. And the hospitality, my word! Just one compliment about their cooking flips their heart and makes them endearing. They are eager to feed you till you drop from diarrhea, farting your heart away. No wonder our room used to stink every morning, the blankets even more so!

Snow played hide and seek with us. Except that we never found it. Thus, Kufri, the usual snow-capped torso of Simla, was naked and barren. Yet, no one complained because the chill was enough to freeze my glutes, through three layers of clothes. And if you sat on a bench in the open, you would be scared shitless to sit in the bathroom the next morning. Talking about bathrooms, our bathroom had a convenient window view for a certain red-faced badass monkey who used to gibber whenever his eyes met with mine, irrespective of my position!
All said and done, we packed up and waved farewell to them. Only meeting once a year, it always feels crappy to part. This time, it sucked a lot more, what with all the memories we made with laughter, tears, winter and pears. Blessed are these people who think with their heart over their mind, at the cost of selfishness and materialism!
Back to Delhi station, I climb aboard a General coach to reach H. Nizamuddin. The scene through my eyes is something like this:
Two army men are sipping rum with occasional burps. Now and then, you hear a tale or two about how a certain firing in Durgapur caused widespread hatred for army men. Their luggage corroborated their story, having bullet-like dents all over. Somewhere in their voices, there’s a deep sorrow. One might think that these people, who have sworn to protect the country from foreign and domestic threats, would receive much more acceptance from their own countrymen. They seemed to think that a soldier matters to a country where entire races are wiped out for votes/money/honour/dowry. Hilarious!!!!
A youngster is sitting on the seat with nearly half his butt, reading diligently from a book and making notes on a pad well adjusted between his skinny knee and wobbly pen. Another family sitting on the same seat is trying now and then to push this decent fella on the floor to get more room for their bags. No one cares a shit about his exam preparation. What made this person think that he may be able to study in a train?! That too, alongside such wonderfully reasonable people?!

On another seat, a vivacious female is trying to avoid the annoying, penetrating gazes of all the men around her, who are careless enough not to raise their eyes upto her face even once. Another woman handled this problem by wearing a burqa, watching the world through its blackness. One really can’t find fault with Islam at such times, although some Hindu a**holes might do well to learn some courtesy towards women.

The train brakes & I jump down, thankful that the real India isn’t where I live. Hats off, Goa! You are something we all should learn from…


  1. Spent a nice time with family though.. right?? :)

  2. Yeah... It was a nice trip... As long as the food is good, everything falls into place perfectly :D