It’s December. The last holiday
of the year. This time instead of flying, I am going home by train. It is a 27
hours’ journey. I shall cross three states and five large rivers. Everybody
wonders whether I am a fool when I say that I willingly submit to this sheer
wastage of time.
But this journey is important to
me. For 27 hours, I stay in a time capsule. Minimum contact with the outside
world- the cocoon of steel and iron all around and the dull, monotonous sound
of the wheels. It is almost like a retreat for me- a time forced to reflect, to
introspect on a year gone by. Somehow, this solitude makes me closer to myself.
I finish a book, listen to songs and go through the old photographs in my
laptop….
.
It is such a wonder to look at
the world through the looking glass- farmers going about their everyday chores in
the fields, children walking to schools, waving to strangers, watching the
sleepy cities roll past the window; little homes decked in light to usher Son
of God, a bright red star on the roof, ghost platforms and abandoned cabins and
the far-off highway lights. And when you
lie down, the stars and the moon follows you like a companion to your soul.
I love such long journeys. It is
a blessing that I can love my own company. It teaches me about patience, anticipation and
most importantly, enjoy the moments of the panorama called life.
