On my journey home…

…I see the sunlight changing colours on Zadie Smith’s White Teeth, from bright yellow to orange to twilight, till I could not read it anymore.

…I see airplanes taking off and making grumbling sounds as they pass over the bus, destined to go way above the clouds.

…I see a woman begging with a new born in her hands, moving from one vehicle to another at a busy traffic intersection.

…I see a man making momos on a footpath and surrounded by engineers who are juggling the momos and money in their hands for a quick bite before they head home.

…I see a shoal of cars waiting to clear the huge red toll which looks like a giant red shark waiting to gulp in all of them.

…I see the Sun shifting position in the clouds as the bus moves, suddenly peeking out and raining its perfect straight rays into my eyes, thus triggering the war between the iris and the pupil.

…I see a small boy cleaning the cars which stop at the signals and then asking for money which he never gets.

…I see leaves wildly rustling on a branch illuminated by a yellow streetlight as if trying to break away from their destiny of being attached to the tree till he discards them on his own whim.

…I see a huge mall which is said to be a kilometer long and then I see a man sleeping on the road outside the mall wearing torn clothes with dirt seeping into each and every pore of his skin and a beard which reminds me of a virus gone out of control.

…I see a silent caterpillar shaped metro stopping at a station before it swings its doors open to let go of the captives and then I turn around and see an Indian Railways train, proud of its enormity and rumbling before it disappears into a tunnel.

…I see a man holding his wife like a sharp eyed eagle holding a terrified mouse, so that they could cross the busy road.

…I see my own reflection in the window as the driver switch on the lights inside the bus and then I start worrying that my face and age tell two different stories.

[[All the photos are taken from the www ocean and I apologise for my irregular presence at WordPress but it has been a really busy week. Presentations, tests, playbacks and assignments took almost all my time and then the monsoons stopped all the vehicles creating a nightmarish four hour journey back home which left me completely exhausted to do anything except breathing.]]

27 comments on “On my journey home…

  1. The new header is cool!! 4 hr of commute does give a lot of food for thought doesnt it? Maybe u could carry a camera and take some unique snaps. Nice observations and aptly described.

  2. White Teeth!! I love that book! Oh man, it’s an epic!! 🙂
    Excellent post, man! Keep up the good work! And yes, I love the new header image!! 😀

  3. @Vijaya Bharat : Thanks Bharat. 🙂
    @Reema : Thanks. Yes, I do get a lot of time to think but its bad after a certain extend. I think a person turns pessimistic if he thinks too much. 🙂 I can carry a camera but its a form of security breach in my company, so its better that I don’t take the risk. 😐
    @Nita : Poet? Hmmm…I did write a Hindi poem last year. Don’t know how good it was. Here it is : https://mashedmusings.wordpress.com/2007/10/24/kya/
    We had a poem writing competition on one of my friend’s birthday last year and I wrote this poem for that. 🙂
    @Nikhil : I have just reached the 100th page but I am finding it really good. Enjoyable. And Thanks a lot. 😀
    @Arvind : Thanks Arvind. 🙂
    @Allirekha : Thanks for the hmmmm and the nice words. 🙂 I will I will. 🙂
    @Joel : Thanks a lot. I agree with Rekha too. :mrgreen:

  4. Ah, how did this post come out? It seemed loosely inspired from the Flickr tag that’s been doing rounds but it was so much more. I liked your analogies, especially the Metro and the Toll ones. The pictures are nice too.

    The header is also nice.

    The new signature, as well.

    Oh ho, too much niceness. Kya yaar Amit? 😛

  5. @Vishesh : I think reality is a very relative term. Most of the times, its just a mind game. 🙂
    @Suda : Thanks Suda. And, yes, I am ok. 🙂
    @Ish : It came out when I clicked on the Publish button. 😛 I saw the Flickr tag after I wrote it, so I think its the other way round. 😛 And, thank you for all the nice nice nice words. What to do? Aisa hi hoon main. 😀
    @Lallopallo : Thank you. 😀

  6. Arey waah, tune Flickr tag ko inspire kiya. Kamaal hai. Khushi hui mahaan insaan ke blog pe comment karke 😛

    Aise hi ho tum. Now I can imagine you doing that Hrithik from Lakshaya waala dance. 😛

  7. @Amit – Damn! My shayar yaar Amit – impressive! I never knew you had a Amit Akhtar in you, haan! 🙂

    Nice header pic – blue 🙂 like the tee blue 😀

    The whole post is se*beep*y but I love this line!

    //…I see my own reflection in the window as the driver switch on the lights inside the bus and then I start worrying that my face and age tell two different stories.
    //

    Awesome!

  8. @Withering Willow : Thanks. 😀
    @Ish : Aise hi comments karte raho, aur bahut saari mahantaaon ke baare main pata chalega dheere dheere. 😛 And, that song was made for me, wo toh galati se Hrithik pe picturize ho gaya…
    @Sulz : Relaxing? RELAXING!!!! I am half dead. Travelling like this. 😦 What a miserable life. 😦
    @RJ : Thank you. Thank you. 😀 I have many things inside me. 😉 Yes, I have to write the Epilogue, but will do it in the weekend. Realllllly busy right now. 😦

  9. He, its sweet. I too have a long commute, though I don’t get to see sunrise and sunsets often, do get to see trains, begging boys and women, cars running across, people crossing street. Nicely put. 🙂

  10. well mashed musings……an apt name for a nice blog….
    you really have got an imaginative eye which peers through the agony and aspirations of people .
    i liked the thought of engineers juggling momos and money and the clouds making way for the bus
    nice post!:)

  11. @Arpit : Thanks Arpit. 🙂 And Welcome to the blog. I don’t know about an imaginative eye but yes, I do have a lot of time to spare when I am travelling. 🙂 Keep visiting. 😀

  12. Pingback: Nominations So Far… « Visceral Observations

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