Thursday, May 2, 2013

Moments of retrospection

Dear diary,

Tomorrow, I celebrate three years of my job life. Well "celebrate", I wonder? Frankly, it has been a tiring, tedious, seeing-the-same-bullcrap-everywhere and a taxing journey.

Well you got it right. I am here to crib and vent it out.

Yesterday, I read an article which was of the title "Date a girl who travels". Not as well written as the original "Date a girl who reads", but made some sense.

Anyways, here is my story. I travel alone so many times and never a girl in my compartment and now when I was traveling with parents there was this beautiful Kashmiri girl traveling alone back to Kashmir from Delhi. Her eyes shone in the dark  like pearls but then it also reflected that she was very scared. She kept talking on the phone in the incomprehensible Kashmiri language. She even asked my dad to exchange her lower berth with dad's upper berth. I wondered why would a girl leave the lower seat and make an uncomfortable climb to the upper seat of Indian Railways. But then I was happy for I was at the other end of the upper berth. She was all the time on phone or had earphones on. But then the earphones were very loud (even under her scarf) and I could here Beatles songs being played. It made her even more beautiful.
In the morning when I woke up, I could not resist making a talk with her. She told me that she was scared because she was traveling alone for the first time and everyone back home was horrified of increasing rapes in Delhi. Thats why she had swapped her berth to upper one where it was more difficult to be reached and hence raped. And on phone when her brother had asked in Kashmiri that who else were there in the compartment she had told that there was a guy of 27-28 age (about me) but then it is assured that he would not rape me because he is traveling with his family. Yes, she told me that in complete innocence. I was shocked at hearing this and this has left an indelible expression in my mind.

Well you know, currently I am missing those moments when I used to visit her place and we would watch Charlie Chaplin movies together. (Don't ask me who this "her" is because I have written enough diary entries about her.) She would cry tonnes of tears at those impersonation of The Tramp by Charle Chaplin and I would laugh and clap at those comic scenes. But then those were one of the few moments combined of tears and laughter that I wanted the time to stand still.

Anyways, books are the only ones who are keeping me going. I am excited about this new book I am to read. Nabokov's Speak Memory. So many books, so little time!


I felt


mikimbizi said...

Loved it and love the fact that you are reading Speak Memory, I started re-reading it yesterday, what a coincidence!