Excerpts from my Diary : Day 2

Excerpts from Day 2

14th May’18

(Towards Amritsar)

9:25 A.M

Last night was devoid of sleep. The train kept on shaking and trembling like an earthquake and I started getting pangs of claustrophobia. Nonetheless, the daylight scenery is worth it all. As someone who loves writing, I’d rather take the long road for inspiration. A while ago, with piping hot tea in my hands, I looked outside as dried lakes and farmers passed by me. This route, I am not as lucky to get a window seat but the one second to it. But I can see well outside. And as usual, anime songs play on in my ears.


1. Adjacent windmills languishing in leisure,

As the train moves through hills and concrete like a seizure.


2. Taking a little nap at every station,

My train wakes up with a slow jerk as it loses patience.


3. Roads, smaller than a metre,

Throw the concrete city to shame without a deter.


As opposed to the city, with less green and abundance of concrete, these passing villages conserve their concrete and let the trees grow freely. Little stations on the way, without any foot over bridges, just seem like little parks on the way with red benches that stay frozen in time due to the lack of travelling populace. Those stations are just THERE. To remind one that humanity still exists in a place full of ploughed farms, so perfectly divided, that I might mistaken this part as the Harappan Civilization if it were not for the little village schools and temples that abrupt the flowing fields. Every little plant is nurtured so well, as they stand diagonally behind each other, like children in a school assembly. Along the stretches of these long farms lie self-sufficient villages; some buildings, too lazy to be painted, while some jazzed up in purple hues.


4. Trees lean on, beyond redemption and some wither away,

As trains zoom past, oblivious of their gradual sway.


5. The hills finally show themselves,

Magnanimously (or not) suppressing ancient ruins, mysterious the deeper I delve.


The majesty of mountains is full of shrubs, that look like hedgehogs in disguise.


6. The electric poles trace the curves of the mountains

Whilst they juxtapose over my vision plain.


Sharing chocolates and junk food with our co-passengers, we all move ahead like we’ve known each other for ages.

Wherever I look, I can only see fields and trees dotted over the horizon.


7. Pseudo hills, superimpose real ones,

Created with gravels; putting the natural phenomenon in a trance.


Stopped at Kota station, Rajasthan for a while. My claustrophobia has dwindled. Spicy Vada and Kachori are welcoming to our taste buds. The waiting room was decorated with art, which I clicked pictures of; king on an elephant leading a procession. Paisleys on the arch- like concrete. As we took off ahead experiencing the hot air currents or ‘loo’ in Rajasthan, we only know what weather is waiting up ahead. But our AC train shelters us. We move over to the mountains where the lake looks below sea level from the window. The green plants are a gift of nature, placed so beautifully, they look like a self created path.

The waiting room of the Kota JN, Rajasthan.

We also got down at Sawai Madhopur station for a while. I click a pic just for kicks. After that station, one could see desert spread across. Cacti, tundra etc. were visible.

Sawai Madhopur Station, Rajasthan

4:35 P.M

I’m finally right near a window! I was asleep for almost two and a half hours. We’ve already crossed Mathura, Uttar Pradesh.


8. Patches of fog render the watchtowers blind,

Like a focal torch-light, the lone sun preludes its flight.


9. A straw hut or two survive anti-socially,

Even though just metre away their twin forges an existence cryptically.


I see wires stretching across the entire expanse of the fields. Either there is no end to the fields and overhead wires, or I’m just chasing a loopy mirage. But the sun proves my assumption wrong as he descends lower than before. All day, we’ve been passing through such fields. Relief was little in the patches of desert and some dried lakes and majestic gravel filled mountains. Our train seems like another dimension. I didn’t even realize it was Monday ALREADY. Well isn’t that’s what a diary for? To keep track of time that flies away without notice.

6:30 P.M

The sun looks like a small zentangle drawing mixed with gradients of yellow, orange and a fiery hue. There are hordes of trees, which hide an entire settlement within its silhouette.

We passed by the Nizamuddin station. And as we moved across Delhi, we saw roads full of traffic. The rear red lights of all the cars on the flyover below look like the sea of blood. Lakes with lotuses and Gurudwaras passed by. I looked outside the window at the Ghaziabad station. It was designed using the style of arches and had an archaeological feel to it.

9:30 pm

We’re done eating. All that is left is to sleep. I’ll listen to some music. Think about anime, chatter around and then, sleep. I didn’t sleep well at all last night. Today is our last night in this train. We’ll reach Amritsar early morning at 5. Looking forward to it! It’s a long and fun journey, though it’s tiring and my circadian and biological rhythm is messed up, but hey who cares! Let’s enjoy!


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Excerpts From My Diary : Day 3

Excerpts From My Diary : Day 1


Yesterday’s Dream.

(Image Credit : Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo)

She lifted her pompous fluffy dress a little so that her heel could make a crackling sound on the gravel floor. As she walked along the ancient arches of her fortress, the darkness of solitude gave out an empty echo.

Sunlight filtered through the overhead glass panes as the linear beam manifested itself on the opposite brick wall. A little farther, the rustling leaves suspended a sense of foreboding in the air.

The ten years had been a comatose dream. It seemed just yesterday that the kingdom was rejoicing for her coming-of-age ceremony. It was just yesterday that she was flanked by maids running helter skelter to get the right shade of blush for their young princess. It was just yesterday, that she was wearing an oversized dress whilst the seamstress was about to work her magic.

Yes, it was that moment when spontaneous cries surrounded the impenetrable castle. Metal clanked and red liquid flowed. The cheers for the princess turned into wails of help. It was just yesterday, that she was knocked out cold and locked away into the secret cellar by her mother to keep her away from the wrath of the war.

And now, ten years later, her dreamy eyes opened to a veil of darkness. She felt for the door and the rusty hinges didn’t show a moment of reluctance. She covered her eyes to protect her sensitive eyes; a decade of unawareness to the blinding sun.

Patches of dried blood everywhere, but not a soul to be seen. Broken swords and stories. Memories overwhelmed her temporarily amnesiac mind.

She climbed the twisting stairs, three at a time, as the hem of her dress tore through the sharp screws of the railing. She made her way to the armoury.

Discarded her grandiose attire and put on a metal suit. Threw away her hair ornaments and donned a helmet. Pulled out her rings and held a sword. Flung her heels across the room and substituted them with spiked shoes.

All those years of sword training would not be for naught. Even if there is no horse waiting to be saddled, her feet are sturdy. Even if there is no kingdom to protect or fall, she will proclaim the dictum. Even if there is no enemy in sight, she will scavenge the remains.

Because every princess doesn’t wear a tiara.

This is for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt

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Click here for the previous post. (Instinctual Intellect.)