Sometimes all you have in your life is black and white. Mix them, you get grey. The choices are sometimes dark, sometimes clear. And the grey part… it’s called confusion (for me). Women, I am talking about the ‘choice of clothes’. In this section you can find me: Perplexed. Orderly. Weird. Isolated. Talkative (like always) and then Wise.
I know that many of you will be stirred by waiting for this last blog which is speaking about the end of my journey (in an airplane, probably). So here is the update.
What after the bus…well it was not a warm bed to take rest. For me it would be a truck, a luggage truck. You must be wondering why a truck. Because the place where I was, had no other moving object on the road. However, the story made its twist. The bus had dropped me to an almost remote area. I was over with my budget so it was time to ask for a lift. I tried for 10 mints (gratitude to my patience).
As you may know, I traveled in train which dropped me to a village to where my would-be groom belonged. For this one I can say, without a doubt that this Bus ride had a bigger bang on me than any other.
The excitement of a journey usually starts with the planning, plotting your rail routes and traveling finances. I had none. I was left only with excitement. So I reached the railway station. The place was already full of travelers, men, women, children, foreigners, security personnel and many more. Coolies in kurtas, with brass badges displaying their numbers tied to their forelimbs were approaching travelers. I didn’t know where I wanted to go. There I saw a train on platform 1 (where I was standing). I decided to board it.
My only blog I swear having these many questions! Go ahead… No no no…its not a drama class. Its me! What am I trying to do? I have decided to pack all those pretty sarees I showed you lately and bring them with me back to my home. And why am I taking the TRUNK with me? Because it will remind me of those hidden beautiful memories I have recently met.
I don’t answer my phone. There are few people with whom I go for a spontaneous phone conversations. I consider myself rude – and frankly, rather shy – for not picking up the phone when they call. This time, when I was trying my granny’s old (very old and quite pretty) lehenga-choli, I received a call. The call was rather from a special person..special to me. Though I didn’t want to receive, I had to. You must be thinking why I didn’t ignore it! Because the call was on granny’s landline and yes Einstein..we can’t put it on silent mode!
