Whatever will be , will be!

How often have you paused in your tracks to wonder that there is some force, some dynamics at work, that adds that final push or blow to what you have planned? That you can plan, but execute you will on subject to that 'will', that you could at best be content with the fact that you tried, and that as they all say, "man proposes and GOD disposes"?
Let me not get you to think that I am those behaviour-books-preach-this Type A/Type B person. Nay, I am not one to sit back and do nothing for I know I cannot decide what will be.
I am one who knows, that whatever will be, will be. Yet, my sweat and toil can and will eventually tilt the balance in my favour. In your favour, in our favour!
I often am left thinking how trivial and spec-like I am before that unseen power, that order, that force! And I bow, in obeisance!! However, I also appreciate that there will be a few who will counter this thought, with perchance a logic flawed, or otherwise. I am staying put. I swear allegiance.
Here for you L&G, a humble case in point.
My recent trip to Bombay ( no come what may, I still prefer to call it Bombay), though deserves to be chronicled in a separate post.
All my bags packed, I left for the station-lock, stock, and barrel. The station, true to its reputation, is bustling with activity. Security, travellers, the occasional stray dog, porters, stalls, A.H.Wheeler-there were these and more. The B
infamous Bombay humidity irked me, as I dragged my feet towards the platform. I was so overwhelmed with all that happened for the week I stayed there, that my otherwise quick feet refused their office. I wanted to stay a bit longer. And then there are 'signs'. I did manage to reach the platform and soon enough, the train chugged in to the platform. "This is it!", I said to myself.
I still had to check my ticket status, and I dial the railway enquiry number. The train engine blows its whistle loud and clear. Time to say goodbye. I am straining my ears to listen to what the IVR says. "Passenger 1, booking status- followed by a loud whistle- interrupted by yet another loud one-current status,- porters yell, passengers scream, rush, madnees on the platform,"
"Passenger2, book...whistle, rush, scream, whistle, waitlist."
What did I jsut hear? "Waitlist". I try again, to no avail. I call up a friend to check on the Internet.
Yes! The ticket remianed unconfirmed. And I stay on for another week.
I rushed to the counter to get it cancelled and head back home. That voice in there is mumbling... it says something... I try to shut it up..but my mind speaks louder this time, so much so that I end up thinking aloud...
Que Sera Sera...
Yes, whatever will be, will be! and commitments half-met will ensure that they get completed, unless ofcourse, tehy are meant to be left unfinished.

The Trip to Amritsar

I love to travel.

It was more of an impromptu plan..."let us go to Amritsar", said one of us.
"Aye!", we assented!!! Tickets got booked even with the salary showing a dangerously low mark. Plans made. Tickets booked. Rest is when we get set to go. That was November of 2009.
Cut to December.
First week passes by with minimal chill in the air...
"Winters do not quite feel like winters, anymore!", said I to one of my friends. "Yes, how hateful this is becoming!", said the friend.
December last week, weather reports and news channels are crying hoarse about how cruel and harsh the winters are this time...the cold wave as always true to its image, gave reason to people to stay indoors rather than venture out.
It struck me first, our tickets, to Amritsar, booked for January, first week!!! :)
What luck! We get to see winter in all its glory!!
Everyone who hears the itinerary is sure enough to laugh our plan off! And so they do.
I readily scan papers for the temperature at Amritsar, hovering anywhere from -2 to 0, each day.
Woah! This is going to be some trip!!! :)
Meanwhile, the Indian Railways books huge losses owing to cancellations of trains. The Shatabdis, Rajdhanis and Sampark Krantis are not spared. It is only but natural for the lesser locos to get cancelled...and ofcourse, delayed, at times, by more than an hour. I choose not to mention about flights, because I am an eternal "hope personified" being, and I still believe that because exceptions are always there, common sense, after all, just may be rather common! Also, because I care more for the trains...I too am travelling on one to Amritsar.

January 8

The morning trains get cancelled. So do the ones that are to run in the evening. I pray that mine does not. I calculate my funds, the other two friends too quickly do theirs. "Noting doing!", say we, "if the train ain't taking us there, a cab surely is!"
We reached the station. I scan the status board almost every five minutes. We have our share of fun too. The platform is pure chaos. People...men, women, youngsters, good(handsome)young men to look at, children, porters, luggage, pick pockets, dogs, security, F&B...we had it all there!
We clicked a few quick pics ( my other two friends are rather camera friendly, love to pose endlessly, and needless to say, they are eternal posers! :P )
A boy reads aloud on the platform, he is reading a novel... one of my buddies goes and clicks him.. he is so engrossed, he barley notices... We munch onto something...we look around at other passengers...and we stay alert...and I true to my "restless" self, keep rushing to the board to see whether our train is on time.
Soon, it is official, the train is two hours late...
We pose more, we click, we talk, and wait...finally the train chugs into the platform...everyone picks up their luggage and is ready to board the train.
"Wait!, there is still time to go", says the engine driver. Twice , thrice, it shunted... each time, raising our hopes, and crushing them to smithereens...
We are on it finally, 18:40 hours...and we leave New Delhi for Amritsar. The train is abuzz with chatter. People offer unwarranted advice on the time it would reach Amritsar, and more. The chap behind us cannot stop talking...and all of my life I had been thinking I would put any obsessive conversationalist to shame with my gift of the gab!
The train is doing just 20 kmph, for the records...and we are starving ... when the attendant gets the tea, he smiles and says, "Madam jee, it all depends...".
We get it.
We cross Panipat in three and a half hours...ask anyone who has been on that route before what it means. In short, it spells doom for the people on board the train!
We have had soup, and then dinner, and the "eternal crap" sitting behind us is still going on. He is just unstoppable. When people don't realise, they ought to be made to realise. Soon enough he minds himself.
Our enthusiasms did not flag despite the train's delay...and we also know by now that we are not to reach Amritsar before dawn breaks...
Winter at its best...a journey that generally lasts six hours, lasted almost twelve. 05:45 hours is when the train whisltes onto the platform.

PS: If I continue to write about what happened when we reached in this post, I would have fewer readers than what I presently do...more in next.

What Am I Made Of? - Pt2

Sports: Exercise and rules generously sprinkled with mirth and a livid sense of freedom!
Through out my life thus far, I have been a vivacious sportswoman. Be it throwball, table tennis, basketball, lawn tennis, kho-kho, volleyball, softball, lacrosse, cricket-I have played it all. Or so I would like to believe.
Those days when we played for fun soon gave way to days when we played only to win. Soon to be followed by days that were spent playing only to “defeat”, and later, celebrate as victors.
Sports and the love of it instilled in me many qualities. Perseverance being one of them. Goes without saying there were others like team spirit, fair play, sportsman spirit (to take to victory or defeat equally graciously).
The bonhomie, the camaraderie, and the bliss are unmatched till date. That this description culminates here does not mean that this is all sports did for me. Yet, I choose to end it here.
Learning: It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man tumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust, sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. – Theodore Roosevelt

Travel: I now will tell you about my travel tails and at times, travails. Get, set, and go! Around the world, about your city, country, or “imagine!” for that matter. Costs far less or way too much at times.
Travel for me has meant both the literal one, interspersed with relevant, strong, and at times, lethal doses of “imagination. So much so, that I can safely say, I am quite a traveller. One who has thoroughly enjoyed each trip to a place big or small, the preparations for that went into it, the actual journey, the stay, the trips about that place, yes, gallivanting, and finally, battling the nostalgia, and managing pictures and my travelogue! Phew!! Long haul!!!
Not only this, but also, each trip to “neverland” or the “future”, to “Utopia”, to “why-me?” or “why-not-me?” land, to “I-wish-I-could” or “if-it-had-been-so” world, were each quite a trip in themselves!
The sudden realisation that “Now” beckons and the quiet, quick revisits to those places, are all etched onto the tablet-my “thinking” mind.
Learning: It's round the world I've travelled; it's round the world I've roamed; … - Woody Guthrie