The Dream

She could see the back of his head as they made their way through the crowded railway station. It seemed like a time eons ago or in the future, and a place quite unlike anything she’d ever seen. He would sometimes move forward and she would be left scrambling, scrunching her face as she pushed herself forward, not moving her eyes away from the back of his rather huge head, lest they get separated.

It seemed like a high-tech, advanced railway station, with shining smooth trains, and computer operated passageways and terminals. It was unlike any other railway stations she had seen in India. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks as something dawned upon her. He had gone quite far ahead. He came back when he realized she wasn’t behind him.

“What are you doing? Come on, we’ll miss the train!”

“I.. I can’t go to Bombay with you.”

“What? Don’t say that now. We had planned this. You wanted to do this.”

“I did. But now, I know that if I don’t stay back and give my interview, I might regret it for the rest of my life. Don’t you want me to get the opportunity which would make me get the job in Australia?”

“Yes, but.. but you told me Bombay was what you wanted. With me.”

“The interviewers can come to India anytime in the next two days. I have to stay back. I have to do this. I’m sorry.”

The look on his face was the most painful expression she had ever seen. Her heart leaped out of her chest for him, but she stood rooted to her spot. His eyes glistened as he said, “Okay. All the best.” He turned and left. She stood there and looked at him until he dissolved in the crowd, and the back of his head was no longer visible.

She closed her eyes, and breathed. Long and hard. She turned back and started walking but her legs felt like they were made of iron. Flashes of the past whizzed through her brain like a movie montage and she screamed, “Fuck it! I’m going with him.”

She ran. She pushed through the crowd, and ran like she had never run before. On a railway station swarming with people. She ran towards his platform, and saw him disappear behind a glass door, which lifted him up on another platform.

She ran. She does not remember for how long, and how she made her way through the hordes of people, but she finally saw him standing in front of his train, saying goodbye to his best friends. He held her yellow top, which she remembered she had given him, and which always smelled of her. His expression seemed blank now, like it didn’t matter whether he goes to Bombay or stays back anymore.

He saw her. And for a second, he didn’t believe it. As soon as he realized it was indeed her, she saw him grinning the broadest smile. Relief swept over his face like a gentle breeze, and he walked towards her. He was almost gliding towards her, making his way perfectly through the bustling people, looking only at her.

She ran up to him and buried her face in his shoulder, like she always did whenever she did something stupid. “I’m sorry. What was I thinking? I want us to go to Bombay.” She looked up at him. “Together.”

He smiled, brushed a strand of hair off her face, and kissed her nose. “We will go to Bombay. Just, not this time. You were thinking right. You should give the interview. I want you to go abroad. You always wanted to.”

She looked at him, her heart melting and no words coming out of her mouth. The train whistled, and the passengers started rushing inside. “You want me to..?”

He nodded, and hugged her tight. Tears filled her eyes, when she realized what this meant. They would not see each other. Not for a long, long time. “Bye, love”, he whispered. “Bombay beckons.”

“I love you,” she said, tears streaming down her eyes now. He held her hands and kissed them. He got in the train, and waved at her. He pursed his lips like he always did, and then lifted his glasses up, to wipe a lone tear hanging at the side of his eye.

She stood there and waved till the train left and went out of sight. She knew something had come to an end. She knew he had taken away a part of her with him that day. But she also knew they would meet again. And when they did, it would be beautiful.  

Ahh, Delhi. It's good to be back :)

Guess where I’m sitting right now? Yep, in my office! It’s been 12 days since I started interning at Tehelka. It feels so weird to tell people, “Hey I’m at office. I’ll get free by 6.” Wow. It sounds so grown-uppy. Since when did I have to tell people I’m not free and have ‘work’? Work? Is it really work? I guess it is. It may not be super-significant, life-changing, altering-the-course-of-events-in-the-universe work, but it is work nevertheless. A magazine company is like a huge piece of machine that never stops functioning, and though I may be a tiny cog in the entire set, I am a part of it alright :)

I’ve primarily been working on a one-page section called  Master Takes that gets featured towards the end of the magazine. It may not be something that you cannot live your entire life by without reading, but it is a lot of fun to do. I got to interview a lot of interesting people, and compiling and editing everything they say in a 100 odd words can be more challenging that you might think it is. Going up to people and asking them to talk to you can be even more daunting. But it pays off. I also covered a festival at the India International Center and going to the Commonwealth Book Prize at the Oxford Book Store at CP tomorrow. So yeah, things are not as bleak as they could have been.

As interns, we are on the last rung of the hierarchical ladder, and something we find ourselves barely dangling, struggling to keep up with everything that happens in the office. Pardon me to use the recently used and joked about analogy, but this place is like a beehive. Phones are ringing; phone calls are made every few minutes; the writers typing furiously on their keyboards; the designers designing the pages, eyebrows scrunched in concentration; the editors often have a war of words on certain topics and story ideas; news channels spew relentless news stories on the big plasma screen. It was very difficult for me to accept that my boss does not look at me or greet me with a smile because that is how it is at the workplace, and not because she is miffed at something I did. (I am ecstatic now when she smiles or says hi)

It was a little overwhelming in the beginning. Calling people 30 years elder to you by their names, trying to not get affected by the fact that no one even looks at you or acknowledges your presence when you enter the office and sit down meekly at your desk and look around. Or having to realize that this is not college where everyone would be enthusiastic to get to know each other. They come, do their work, and go. They live their lives seriously. They mean business.

This does not mean they do not enjoy. They have their own fun moments, teasing the others, laughing, cracking jokes. And the good, witty kind of jokes. Not the juvenile ones that people crack at college. I feel stupid looking at them and grinning, obviously not being able to join in the conversation. They are good people. I can’t help but notice the look of satisfaction on their faces when they see their stories printed in the magazine. I want to have that. Some of the people here are so knowledgeable and good at what they do, I feel like it would take me years just to come to that level. But I will. I know I will. I like to work in the features. I might just continue this in the future.

I feel lucky if I get work. And when I don’t, well reading blogs, articles and 9gagging helps.

But you know what is awesome?

I live in Delhi on my own with my friends. It’s the kind of freedom I never thought I would get to experience. Living on your own, buying groceries, getting the house cleaned, cleaning and washing sometimes, taking care of work, food and mood swings and adjusting with each other. It all gets really tiring but is really exciting at the same time. 

When all 6 of us are back from our work, we bitch about how bad our days were and fight about whose was worse. We sit in the balcony, order pizzas and chatter on about senseless things. We sometimes cook for each other, we tease, make fun, and sometimes go bonkers laughing. We sometimes go out walking, take random rickshaw rides, eat like there's no tomorrow and have illogical discussions late into the night. It is amazing to come back to a house full of friends who you can just flop down on the bed with and talk to. Or with whom you can go out and roam around the city, trying out all the cheap street food and buying things we would need in the house. A house where you have your own space, where you can stretch out and read a book, or go to sleep whenever you want. And it helps to have friends who will hug you when you cry and cry for no reason in particular. It helps even more, when you have friends who will hold a guitar like a monkey and dance around the house with it.

It is unlike anything I have experienced in life so far. It’s great. I love it. I know these are one of the best days of my life, and they are passing by, a tad too fast! I want to make the most of these. And I know I will. For now, just taking it one day at a time. 

It's great to be a Delhi-ite for the next one and a half months! :)