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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1659463-A-transformed-train-ride
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by nikkie Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Other · Contest · #1659463
Tuning into to ipods, watching on laps...seem to coolest things to do on train...is it?
                                       A transformed train ride

Escaping from my incredible European retreat, I returned back to India having fulfilled my voyage. My job had taken me to Europe, for a short training stint. Even though I had overstayed; it was my job’s call now, I could not put off the company’s entreaty. It was an arduous task compelling my newly-pampered heart to depart from Europe. Europe which seemed to me as a haven of picturesque countryside, lofty mountains, serene lochs, escorting streets, glamorous cities, celebrated isles and castles, incredible museums, the cradle of renaissance. The mother ‘Europa’ boasts of its children turning into renowned geniuses, poets, writers, scientists, inventors and what not. Europe was a volcano of unprecedented changes that would usher new springs on the face of earth. The list would not end...my heart had built its own dwelling somewhere in riverside lodges, under a striking painted sky in Venice. Upon reaching India, I barely managed to obtain a train ticket to Bangalore, set to face my boss’ barrage. I would have considered taking a flight had I had the chance to avail those exciting schemes, but the end-moment sky rocketing fares would not keep me upbeat. Having overstayed in Europe, the company would not bear my expenses for any travel modes.

For a moment, I pondered a question many of my age would have wondered about too, what kept one in this country (India), besides the society’s obstinate wishes and being a job’s hostage. I boarded the train early morning, eagerly awaiting the night, when I could vacate that rigid seat. With novels, i-pods and my laptop strewn across the berth, I was all set to gulp down my amusement dosage. Only such a befitting dosage could compensate sixteen hours, mounted taut on a rigid seat. Hordes of travellers were crammed into a single compartment. I opened the window and doors of my coach, to let some fresh air fill the congested passage. My eyes were engrossed in examining sketchy figures and situations, and reading the adjoining comments, ears gripped listening to the thumping beats, the mind forming animate imagery, while my heart relished the chronicles of teenage heroes. Suddenly, a glimmering beam shone on the white pages; I gazed at the first rays, a sight so offbeat. I joined the scarlet, blushing skies welcoming the sun wake up from the horizon, a scene so vintage. Yet, the splendid sight had a different aura, the sun rose on the Indian soils marking a glorious feat. Sprawling meadows lay etched on the earth’s surface, a sight only poets and livestock would love to capture; the former for describing the austere beauty of nature, the later would remember they once came across such grazing grounds, as they would find in heavens. It all seemed familiar, I was next anticipating when I would see those thatched roofs of mud cottages, emaciated men and women toiling hard in bare lands, they called fields, dirty toxins discharged by surrounding industries, long stretches of dry scrubs...

I was just thinking how it would all be, as I had seen in my teenage; when I gasped at the exotic landscape outside, all my notions crushed by defeat. It was all transformed; drip irrigation now tended to the farms, it had long expelled water spillage. Irrigation canals branched into smaller channels, sprawling all across in a network layout. Granaries, water tanks appeared passing by, they exhibited the theme of ‘recover and storage’. More industries came into view, each with a mantle of thicket and exotic foliage around it. Many of them seemed to comply with environmental laws of planting ‘greenbelts’ around their units, to naturally consume the smoke they liberated. Large structures, had a whiff around them, likely of treated effluents and sewage. Amongst everyone’s irksome remarks on the odour, I for one found an empathy for it. The plants treated sewage and wastes, something that was rarely followed in India, to promote clean environments. The factories too seemed to find the concern, of conserving nature around and reducing wastage. The passing-by ranches employed advanced mechanized farming, likes of which had yielded optimum benefit in the Western countries.

Suddenly, a throng appeared carrying placards and banners of ‘We demand increase in wage’. They hailed from diverse creeds; unlike earlier when such protests, only selected few would commit. Devoid of a leading sage, they continued to march on for their daily pilgrimage. A sight of cheerful children playing football, suddenly whizzed by. I had not expected football as a sport and its craze to reach this part of the countryside; it seems the world is definitely becoming smaller. It was dusk, when cables and wires seemed dangling across the painted sky. They sincerely carried out their ever-lasting duty of gifting the boon of electricity and telecommunications to surrounding villages, hoping they cherish its usage. Newly painted and alighted restrooms and police stations also passed by, a sight I had never seen during my train journeys in teenage.

It was nearly time for Bangalore’s arrival; a chance for which I had waited so long. Yet, I was still reeling in the amazement and shock I went through, during the course of this train journey, savouring memories of every bit of transformation this region had undergone. As I set to disembark, I pondered how it had all transformed, from what I had seen in my teenage. I thanked my fortune of witnessing this part of India transform, so would the rest in a similar spirit. It was now time for me to assess the transformation within, given my nation’s current vantage.

The End.
(Word Count: 926)



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