ASHES

It has really been a relentless two weeks for me now. I have had a lot of trouble at work, and I have this inkling that I might be on the verge of being pushed out of my work. I, however, think that all the trouble surrounding me has not been for much of my fault. But that just makes the situation worse in a funny sort of a way. Now I don’t even know what I have done wrong. Apart from the unrelenting burden of work I have been trying to put together an application for a masters course in the US. I have completed some stuff but a lot is still left to be done and as always I am running against time. As I was going through some old folders of mine trying to locate some documents I might need for my application, I stumbled upon this photo album. I had been searching for this album for quite a while now, and it almost came out of nowhere. Against the run of play if I may.

The photo album is from a trip to Agra, the Taj, I went with some of my friends in 2^nd year. It was just another trip actually, but as I sat down to visit those times again it filled me totally with a nostalgic emotion. Zubin, Andy, Sahu, Harry and I had decided in the late hours of a Friday that we will go to Agra. Much of the credit/discredit for making the trip possible has to go to Harry, but then again much of the credit for making the trip memorable also goes to him. In the wee hours of Saturday we left the hostel and reached H.Nzm railway station. Basically all trains going south or west generally go through Agra, so getting a train was not going to be a problem. But since we had gotten slightly late we decided to go aboard the Taj express itself.

Sahu, andy and I were relatively familiar with train journeys without reservations, so funnily enough we had no ‘reservations’ about it. I don’t know if Zubin had travelled in congested trains a lot but he sure would have in congested roadways buses so he was cool. But we realised that we were also carrying a 200 pound baby with us, harry, who had never seen a congested train let alone travel in one. So four of us were able to mould ourselves well in the jam packed compartment, but our baby had some initial trouble.

As the train slowly left the platform I remember telling myself that this was my first trip with friends in my life. Be it for just one day. So I was excited. Sahu was basically accompanying us as he was to move ahead to his place in Jhansi when we were done with Agra, so he was happy too. Zubin used to be very cheerful at all times then, Harro was as I said acting like a baby who is going to see the wonder of the world and just can’t wait to get there and Andy well he is never too excited about anything really.

During our journey to Agra, Sahu and I started discussing if Taj express was the best option…”abe Mangla se bhi ja sakte the”…”par fir 9 baje tak rukna padta, haan jagah mil jati usme”…blah bla blah. Andy is always short of words so he was quiet as ever. And then I heard the conversation between Zubin and Harry. As I said before Harro was coming across as kid, but it really felt like a grandfather and a grandson in conversation. Zubin was narrating the entire story of the Mahabharat to Harry, who listened in extreme excitement. My knowledge about Mahabharat is only as good as B.R.Chopra’s, but Zubin had done this whole thesis on it. But it was really lovely as we all listened carefully to the whole story starting from Shantanu till the end. It was really an amazing experience.

As we passed Mathura, standing virtually on one foot at a time, the congestion loosened up and we got to sit finally. We were a little tired and left the bakchodi for later in the day. We set foot on the Agra railway station and I was still feeling excited that I am on trip. We took an autorickshaw for 45 bucks from the station straight to Taj Mahaal (the extra ‘a’ for our firangi dost Harry).