The trains that run in Kerala are mostly a combination of light and dark blue. I was fascinated by trains ever since I was a kid. It was not the working of it that intrigued me. I simply liked to see the station master in his white uniform waving the flags and the rail tracks endlessly running parallel to each other. As the announcements declared the arrival of the train in different languages, I would wait eagerly to hear its whistling noise.
Most of my train rides were from my hometown to my college hostel. I was on one such journey on that Monday morning. My parents had dropped me off at the railway station. “Call us when you get there. Bye” said my mom. “I will” I said and waved goodbye. I went to a nearby shop and brought potato chips and pushed them inside by over packed bag. After entering the train and taking the window side seat, I put my earphones on.
A girl probably a bit older than me, took the seat next to mine. She was wearing a black jeans with a blue top. Her hair was tied to a bun. She had a round face and I noticed that her lip were curved downwards forming a semicircle. As the train began moving, she started crying. I was confused as to whether I should comfort her or should I not disturb her. I gathered up my courage and said “are you all right.” She nodded. At that moment she looked so innocent that her face resembled that of a child. I retired back to staring outside the window and she went back to crying. “Say something you idiot!” I said to myself.
“Are you a student?” May be if I keep on talking she might get distracted from what was bothering her and stop crying. “ Yeah. I am doing my post graduation in journalism.” She said wiping off her tears. “That’s great.” I said. “Not really. I love it but the chance of getting a job is really low. None of our seniors got a job last year. I don’t know what to do next . I feel stuck.”
“Is that why you were upset?”
“No” she said. I didn’t ask her what made her cry instead I asked her where she was studying. She said the name of her college.
“That college campus is big and beautiful, compared to mine which is the size of a football ground.” I said. She laughed. May be I was not as bad as I thought I was at social interactions. “Excuse me.” She said when her phone rang. She seemed all right.
We didn’t talk much for the rest of the journey. I preferred the rumbling noise of the train and the view outside, and she took a nap.
I thought of what she said. Feeling stuck in life, I knew that feeling too well. I was in my second year of college and I hated it. It was stricter and harder than school. The opposite of what I thought a college would be. My friends made it bearable. After high school I thought of taking literature or journalism or something related to writing because I loved to write. I ruled out that thought and decided to pursue a degree in engineering which had more job opportunities and hence was safer. A classic Indian move right there.
I admired people who had the courage to pursue their dreams. Here I was on a journey with a girl who did just that and felt stuck. So what is worse- following your passions and being disappointed or taking the safer road and feeling hopeless. I don’t know.
