I have loved travelling all my life. My parents had to work in a district around 9 hours from our home till I turned four (if my memory serves me right). Travel had been an inevitable ingredient of my blooming days so also. Even though I can’t recollect the subtle details of those days, I remember been excited and enticed about the thought of a journey by train, which evidently lasts to this day. My mother’s home too is in another district, which is a good two hour journey from our home. Since my father bought a car four or five years after I was born, all those to and fro journeys from my mother’s native place and our home were by train. I stayed and prepared for my medicine entrance exams at a reputed institution in a town far from my place and there too journeys had been an unavoidable part of my life. After that came the M.B.B.S days, where , even though the journeys had been mostly by bus, I remember having looked forward to the rare enough train journeys that came my way in the selected few days when there was a proper train during the days I promptly decided to go home. The formidable locomotive called train, needless to say, has been threaded into the pages of my life like no other.
The concept of train journey for me is sort of linked to trips I undertake mostly for a pleasure- like visiting my grand parents and part of a pilgrimage to the temples scattered throughout South India. They were mostly coupled with memories that enthralled the wander lust in me, who loved being lost in the icy breeze that hit against her face as the huge vehicle trundled its way towards destinations. They were the pieces of heaven that life offered me when I could relish the many passions of the soul in me- Reading a good book, observing nature and the lives of people, scribbling down stories and accounts, listening to music and contemplating. Until now. As stated in my previous posts, I was posted in a hospital atleast three hours from my home and the modes of travel I have to depend on includes, an auto, a bus, a train and a five minute walk-. Not so pleasing, is it?
The journey for job has become the most tiring one I have ever undertaken in my life and I am appaled to realise that on my To-The- Hospital Journey, I am at my cranky most because of the sheer heat and the sweat born out of it. On top of that, there have been days when the train distressingly decides to run a wee bit slower, which would topple my entire journey cascade that would otherwise place me at the hospital steps for my duty at the right time. A train running late would mean missing a bus and that would mean, an hour of nail biting and lip chewing in the bus, frantic calls to the doctor at duty apologising for the delay and another gallon of guilt for having brought trouble for him/her, although I am not entirely at fault.
On the contrary, the From-The-Hospital Journey has a different version to say altogether. I would say, those journeys would easily be the happiest ones I have ever taken in my life. Intriguing, isn’t it? For me, the happiest hour in life would be the dawn that breaks out after a hectic 24hour shift I have taken. Seriously. You have to experience it to understand it. The satisfaction of having worked hard, the joy in finding atleast two hours to sleep at night when patients suddenly decide to not visit the hospital in the middle of the night and the hopes for a entire off day waiting to be savoured and slept, gather into an amalgamation of emotions and I feel like twirling in joy and relief. I pick up my reading while on the return journey and end up clicking pictures, which would eventually appear on my Instagram page.
Back home, I feed the cats, talk to them, take bath and sleep for a good three to four hours before having food or sitting down to write something or even watch T.V.
In a nutshell, I am now encountering a bitter sweet facet of life it seems. My mother pacified me by saying that I need to take up such challenges in life, rather than run away from them, for then there would be scope for hopes and better times in the future. Hardships, according to her, are to be suffered when and where they arrive, or life would throw us even harder ones along the way. Taking cue from her words, I end this post by raising a toast to the hardships in life which make us who we are. After all, can anyone reap what they haven’t sowed?
P.S: This post is tagged with ‘Mid Week Quests’, a sub section of this blog where I write on a Wednesday, about random nuggets from my life. I had duty yesterday, hence the delay in writing the post. I hope that wouldn’t be a problem:)