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Thread: Chandigarh to delhi

  1. #1

    Chandigarh to delhi

    THE RETURN JOURNEY
    CHANDIGARH- DELHI
    Late in the evening, with the time of the Shatabdi to Delhi approaching menacingly, we were still at the mid-way stage of the Valedictory function of the Seminar when the earthquake struck, jolting the audience, as well as the panellists, spreading a tsunami of fear, confusion and indecision around. A few of the audience, in panic, got up though remaining glued next to their seats while others rushed to the doors to exit.
    Fortunately the tremors were weak and the duration short. The Session concluded quickly, now it was back to the Hotel Hometel to collect the luggage and rush to the station to catch the Shatabti from the City Beautiful.
    The Executive Class Delhi bound passengers congregated at the spot where the E2 compartment was likely to be positioned when the train came to stop, whiling the time ideal gossip and sipping coffee from the nearby stall.
    As the train steamed in, there was a rush all around. Even with seats reserved and a long eight minute halt there was jumbling and jostling at the entrance door by the impatient and in hurry passengers. A little bit of pushing and pulling later, the seats located, the carry-on luggage confined to the overhead shelf, with the chaos subsiding there was some semblance of order and peace, the now comparative silence being broken by the wailing and crying of a child in distress, intermittently, all the way to Delhi, to the discomfort of the co-passengers and chagrin of the young mother, perambulating up and down the aisle trying, unsuccessfully to comfort the child in her lap.
    E2/24, my window seat, I had to reach, discomforting the occupant of E2/23 the aisle seat. But more about that later.
    As soon as the train started, and picked-up speed, began the ritual of the catering staff feeding the passengers.
    With the water bottles already provided, the small tables pulled out to hold the trays, overflowing with assorted eats: sandwich, cupcake, samosa, sauce, packets of snacks, possibly to carry home for the kids, cutlery and not forgetting the packet with the tea things.
    The train maintaining a slow speed on the single track up to Ambala, prompted my co passenger, who was somewhere between a young girl and a lady, working for the Canadian Embassy, to break ice.
    ‘The train is moving slowly.’
    ‘Possibly because it is a single track till Ambala and another one is being laid,’ I ventured.

    It transpired that she was returning home after 14 days of organisational work at Chandigarh and was to be picked up by her father where as I was returning to Delhi after four days of IETE activities and was to be picked up

    t transpired that she was returning home after 14 days of organisational work at Chandigarh and was to be picked up by her father where as I was returning to Delhi after four days of IETE activities and was to be picked up by my son, Ranjit.
    In between the, incoming and out going calls on our respective cells we managed to exchange our respective Bio-datas.
    For me it was interesting to get a peep in the mind of the present generation of young professionals, to understand their aspirations, inhibitions and concerns.
    The journey provided the young lady an opportunity to share her personal issues, concerns, job, family, rituals and the unwelcome pressure to get married, from the parents with a neutral elderly, in the bargain also to suffer some unsolicited advice.
    In so far as I was concerned, an amateur author, I had an interested listener to brag about my books, published and those at manuscript stage: an inherent weakness of any writer, of any calibre.
    The conversation resulted in her remarking, to my acute embarrassment, ‘You are an amazing person.’
    Even before the heavy tea had time settle, commenced the hectic activity to serve the dinner.
    As I was eating my soup, she queried, ‘How is the Soup?’
    ‘Not too bad,’ I responded.
    ‘I don’t like soup but I will have it, I am on weight loss regime.’
    And then the vision of tray, full with rice, parathas, dal, sabzi, accompanied with ice-cream, broke the barrier raised by will-power , pushing the dieting regime to sometime in future.
    As the train approached Delhi, with everyone impatiently standing up, started the frenzied activity of collecting the baggage and in the process blocking the aisle by clustering behind the one that has already formed at the exit by the early birds.
    My parting advice, or non advice, to follow own head and heart was well received. Respecting her privacy I did not venture to enquire of her reluctance to marriage. Was it the nagging fear, of loosing her personal freedom so assiduously acquired, or something else? I wonder.
    As the train came to a stop, ahead was the daunting task of navigating through the milling crowed of pedestrians, autos, taxes and cars, milling and rushing up and down in a frenzy, outside the Station.
    Thanks to the mobile, I managed to make contact with Ranjit who guided me and General Pant, who had joined us for the drive back home, to the car in the parking lot.
    With Kalpana, my PIO daughter, in the front passenger seat, keeping her thoughts to herself, the car in the expert hands of Ranjit, it was a pleasant and uneventful drive to Greater Noida. General Pant and I usefully spent the long drive, dissecting the activities of the last four days at Chandigarh
    At this stage in life, it is difficult to make new friends. I welcome, my young Shatabadi co- passenger, to be a Face book friend

  2. The Following 2 Users Say Thank You to bls31 For This Useful Post:

    AbhikRana (May 27th, 2016), deependra (June 12th, 2016)

  3. #2
    Excellent narration, but mr. Author did not reveal his name or books. Further intent of discussion with co-passenger & subsequent zeal to make friend is also not divulge. It left the reads Guessing!!

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