I looked at the board saying, “Towards western railway” and glanced at my friends. I smiled, “Bye- bye.” They smiled back, “Be careful while traveling. See you soon.” We waved to each other and turned on our respective ways- me, towards the western railway and them towards the central. I always felt a beat skip and a lump occurred in my throat when I saw that, “Towards Western Railway” board at Dadar station. It held a meaning- that my friends who had walked a long way, a span of two years of deeply rooted friendship were going to walk a different path now. It meant that now, we, who had traveled and been together in a common world of joy, happiness, jokes, fun were going to go away to a different space and world altogether. I used to sigh whenever I saw that board.
Yes, we did belong to different worlds- me, a south mumbaitee, and used to fresh air of Chowpatty and the sophistication of the Mumbai culture and them- the Central railway from places like Kalwa of which I had never heard and Dombivli where I had never set foot. My career decision brought me to Ruia and to this whole new world where there was no sophistication, total freedom to expression of every human emotion right from rowdiness to tears to madness. It was a bit apprehensive for me initially, someone who had been taught to think before speaking and to scan the intentions of the person whom I spoke to because of the weirdos that South Mumbai people generally were to come across such astonishingly honest, cheerful, open, humble and gentle people.
There was a lot to learn- the art of laughing at everything. There were no restrictions here- crack all kind of jokes and laugh, even if there is nothing funny. Speak out your heart; there is always someone to listen. Be yourself, no one has drama classes here. There is no judge of your behaviour and no court where you will be sued against. This is a playground; where you can show your best skills, this is an easel where you can paint your dreams; this is a stage where you can dance in joy and sing in all your gay spirit. This is a home where there are people who care for you and a garden where seeds of love are planted in your heart.
Towards Western Railway- it meant a parting from that lovely Garden of Eden.
Towards Western Railway- it meant a farewell to those who did not know pretension and masked faces.
Towards Western Railway- it meant going back to a world to which I belonged but a class of people who I did not belong to.
Yes, we did belong to different worlds- me, a south mumbaitee, and used to fresh air of Chowpatty and the sophistication of the Mumbai culture and them- the Central railway from places like Kalwa of which I had never heard and Dombivli where I had never set foot. My career decision brought me to Ruia and to this whole new world where there was no sophistication, total freedom to expression of every human emotion right from rowdiness to tears to madness. It was a bit apprehensive for me initially, someone who had been taught to think before speaking and to scan the intentions of the person whom I spoke to because of the weirdos that South Mumbai people generally were to come across such astonishingly honest, cheerful, open, humble and gentle people.
There was a lot to learn- the art of laughing at everything. There were no restrictions here- crack all kind of jokes and laugh, even if there is nothing funny. Speak out your heart; there is always someone to listen. Be yourself, no one has drama classes here. There is no judge of your behaviour and no court where you will be sued against. This is a playground; where you can show your best skills, this is an easel where you can paint your dreams; this is a stage where you can dance in joy and sing in all your gay spirit. This is a home where there are people who care for you and a garden where seeds of love are planted in your heart.
Towards Western Railway- it meant a parting from that lovely Garden of Eden.
Towards Western Railway- it meant a farewell to those who did not know pretension and masked faces.
Towards Western Railway- it meant going back to a world to which I belonged but a class of people who I did not belong to.
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