India is a one big Goddamn country. Some places you have people everywhere and the others deserted. People here tend to move with crowds, no body want to be left alone. Just look at the trains, its always crowded, jam-packed, riotous and stinking. It’s said that an Australian population is right now traveling in the Indian trains. And this country can be well represented by the train. We have all kinds and all classes of people in these trains. I’ll divide them in to three. Indian one, India two and India three.
India one includes the high class people like business men, successful movie stars, cricket players, corrupt politicians and other born rich useless idiots. And they chose the 2-tier AC or 3-tier AC or the 1st class compartments of the train. They might have missed their flights, perhaps. Now, the India two is the long sleeper class compartments. It mainly consists of the upper and lower middle class people. Each one will get his berths. Uncles, aunties, dad, mom, children, grandpa, grandma all of them chatting, talking and speaking. Railway food not good, bathrooms are dirty, too many beggars these days. All starts with different problems and ends up with same solution – the authorities have to be complained, and yeah, nobody does.
And then come India three, the general compartment, the air of fart and floor of piss. Its like a slum on move. Crowded, congested and dirty. It’s the India of lesser known but much hyped about, lower class – helpless and the destitute. Unfortunately I was traveling in this general compartment of both the train and life. If I wanted to pee, I’ll have to sacrifice my seat and have to push and punch through myriad men and women. Once I get there, I can see its occupied, not with a single guy, but many, sitting not shitting, just for space, just for surviving this long journey. Hence it leaves me no choice but to wet my pants.
I had a dream, like any other fool in the compartment. I wanted to travel in the compartment less taken – the first class. For me its no looking back once I get into Bombay, the city of dreams. I will never return unless I get to travel like the India one. I took this as a challenge and this challenge was the force that drove me from here. My biggest aim was to become bollywoods greatest movie star. Not hearing for the first time. Isn’t it? Yes, and you guessed it right. I did become one, but that was not the end.
I had to sleep in the pavement, had to stay hungry for weeks and had to kiss the directors ass to get a chance in his movie. Then I lead my life as a cameo. All I had was a photo of Shah Rukh Khan in a torn off purse. After years of struggle, painful, horrible and cruel days, I became a star, the ultimate hero of bollywood. The Shah Rukh Khan of my purse was burnt to ashes. I am his new rival. He comments me at times but I give my reply through my blogs.
And then a day came when the pilots of India went on for a strike and I had to reach my shooting location in Kolkata. My agent came from nowhere and said, “Sir, we’ve arranged a 1st class ticket from Mumbai to Kolkata in train. I’ll make sure about your security. According to the news the flights wont be operating for about a week.”
“oh! What the hell, don’t they have any private jets or helicopters?” I asked him.
“I tried, but no luck.” he replied.
That left me no choice, but to travel in the train. Once in the train, I looked at my ticket. It had my age on it, which was 5 years lesser than what I was. Just then something struck me. Long ago, maybe the same train, I arrived in Bombay with lot of pain and a wet pant from Calcutta. Now I am going back. Have I accomplished my dream?
I asked the TTE, “Where’s the next station?”
He said some place name that I don’t remember.
When the train stopped at the next station, I stepped out and started walking towards the last compartment of the train. People were gaping at me, excited and thrilled. I got into one of the general compartments. After all these years, I’ve changed, my names have changed, Bombay has changed, Indian film industry has, the Indian economy has, but the trains’ general compartment hasn’t. It was the same, the same situation when I started chasing my dreams. I walked through the bogey, many offered me seats and seated me. They touched me, pinched me, kissed me and also made a fight to get a glance of me. The people’s attitude towards me might have changed. But it was the same man, woman and kid I saw years ago. The challenge I had taken was forgotten and I snubbed it away as a joke. Then the train started moving and so did the journey of my life…
