Skip to main content

Whiling away a Wintry Night Part- II


PART-II: Life is to live


Bewildered by the announcement, I rushed towards the ticket counter and enquired about trains to SRE. “You don’t have one from Delhi; there is one from NZM station. You can take an EMU for NZM station. They are frequent enough, you can get one anytime.” EMUs are what you may term as locals. I must say the idea to take a local was not worth embracing especially at 1:30 am keeping in mind the rising crime portfolio of nation’s capital.  All of a sudden I recalled this fancy dialogue from “Risky Business”:

“Every now and then say, “What the f**k!” coz WTF gives you freedom; freedom gives you opportunity and opportunity makes your future.”

It was not pretty much in context but I just wanted to mention it anyway. It’s my blog after all. So, I said WTF, I’ll just go to NZM, what other choices I had anyway. So, I boarded the EMU. Now, there is stark difference behaviour of the passengers during daytime and nights; in broad daylight our first priority is comfort but in nights comfort is overridden by the need of security. Therefore, it is as if nights unite us with same crowd we are repelled from during the day. It seems night truly has some profound effect on mating of souls after all (no pun intended).  

But maybe it was adrenalin rush after recently encountered WTF moment that led to my adventurous decision or it was simply out of my distaste for unification with hordes, I landed up in coach with only two companions.  But, this loneliness offered me something, something I truly deserved, silence to mourn my misfortune. What new strategy I can come up with? What is worse than travelling alone in a foggy night? Wait a minute! Fog, chill, empty coach, a silent moonlit night and all I needed is perfect vista to have one of those weird solitary night-outs I had always imagined for myself. And thus, I peeped out of my window to behold the picturesque view. Train was crossing a bridge (I am not sure but it might be Shivaji bridge or Tilak bridge) and you could just glance over the mist-covered skyline of Delhi well decorated with neon-lit names of buildings. You can’t just have enough of it in one mere sight so I descended on that unknown station to have better impression. For minutes I stood there gazing, admiring and feeling the serenity of saint who has discovered transcendence. How can’t you be poetic about life?

For all those who are still wondering what my next survival strategy would be, you didn’t get it yet. In reality we don’t need a survival strategy at all; why are we so concerned about surviving when we can actually live? Well, we human get distressed when things don’t go as planned; we have pleasant times and troubled times. Some of us go even beyond that, they find troubles conceited in pleasant things. “Storm is on the way, it’s no time for amusement.” But will being anxious prevent that storm? Why can’t we take a reverse approach and search for presents veiled in these troubles. Why can’t accept and enjoy them and maybe, utilise them in some ways? Instead of considering it a setback, why can’t we turn it in a boon? Don’t get me wrong I am not asking you succumb to your fears, use it as excuse and don’t fight back, all I am requesting is when you put up a fight don’t get distressed, enjoy it. Find small things to cherish even in most unfortunate times. When there are sufferings, don’t just survive it, live through it. Most times you would learn how that storm had been helpful to you when its over, why can't we just assume that from the beginning. Living or Surviving won’t change the path, you’ll still have roadblocks, pain and worries, but your perception of them will certainly improve the journey and eventually the destination.

Yeah, they might be big talks, but then, don’t we have grand dreams? Just ponder over it.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Diary of a Workaholic

"Yeah! you are the busy guy", this taunt has somehow become integral part of my life. I hear it all the time,  times when I forget to call my mom for weeks and friends for months or when I fail to receive their calls, or when I have to break my way out of an ongoing conversation,every time it emanates from a different source I feel the predicament of whether to consider it as an accusation or take it as a compliment (I hate sarcasm as most of the times I fail to get the intended meaning so I take the meaning that suits me, so for all those who think I am busy, Thanks :P), and I don't blame them as I have clearly failed to keep my work out of my life. The realization is intimidating, yes, I am a workaholic.The one who can't just shake off his responsibilities. The one who takes his jobs to his bed, dreams about it and then wakes up again with the thoughts of the same. Yes, I am one of those who goes through all the perils to get things don...

Dilli Diary

"For all its faults we love this city." - The city of Djinns The thought of spending a couple weeks in Delhi in mid-April is something most people would dread and yet, I was brimming with excitement and anticipation. To me, it presented an opportunity to break away from the monotonic work culture of Bangalore and to reminisce about the old days with my college wing-mate in the city I  once used to call my second home. Now, while sitting in my return flight to Bangalore,  I am penning down my memoir of this trip to Delhi.  Heat, Warmth and Hotheads Summer heat was the first thing I sensed after stepping out of my flight in Delhi. This experience completely wiped out whatever tranquil effect was lingering on from the mesmerising aerial view of the city from my flight- ’ The floating island of lights in the sea of darkness' . I estimated the temperature in Delhi at the moment - validated it using the Accuweather app and registered the fact that Delhi nights wer...

Missing link in dream and reality

"I desire things that will destroy me in the end" -- Sylvia Plath While looking out of my balcony, I can always spot a single star in the sky. Probably with the pollution level in Bangalore , the dim ones are hard to spot. If it was southern sky, I could bet it was Sirius. But I don't know what direction it is in and I am too lazy to make any efforts to find out. Moreover the name of the star does not matter. However, it has a similar symbolic significance for me as green light had Fitzgerald's Gatsby. A dream well conceived , clearly visualised and yet beyond grasp. A dream thoroughly cherished and yet unattained. This brings me to another haunting question. How do people start dreaming whatever they start dreaming about? Frankly, it's Gatsby who comes to rescue. Gatsby's dream incidentally was a outcome of exposure to the girl( I wish I remembered her but I don't even care about finding right now) .   We can't dream of things we cannot envisage. I...