chasing trains

After a 12 hour working day, all of which is spent running up and down behind my sport bosses and glued to my mildly squeaky (though comfortable) chair in front of a computer screen, the train ride back home has become like a qunine to all the malarial tiredness the day's female anopheles leave behind.

This gets aptly complimented by my iPod and a very often heard playlist made off a couple of selected Dire Straits, Pink Floyd and a lot of bolly songs. Ironically, these 40 minutes spent amidst a small cabin over-filled with equally exhausted and cranky men, itching to reach home, slows down time for me.

Blaring head phones and passing trains lands me in a trance; one which goes in thinking. Thinking about changes that have recently come out of nowhere... thinking about life in Mumbai, the 8 40 train in the morning, the money to be spent on rent, food, travelling, milk and beer... about the recently acquired bachelor pad I plan to 'super' & 'prime' up in every way possible... thinking about work and my aim to hit it big in sports and managing my brother one day... thinking about writing and my dream to write the best story ever written... about constantly battling with a life-long disorder, I hope I don't lose the fight against... thinking about Smokey, my love for him and every one of his kin and what can I do about it... thinking about the ease Ahmedabad was naturally gifted with... and trying to be patient about the struggle which has just started and which will manifest into something good.

This is the 40 minute train ride home everyday, which is daily spent amidst 70 other working men in a cramped space, finding place enough to stand and breathe on my lucky days. No, this duration doesn't cease my already tired mind to stop thinking, but gives me in a weird and magical way some peace of mind.

This is a wee part of life in a city they say never sleeps... and I've come to cherish every second of it... even on my worst days.
Sent on my BlackBerry®