A weekend at Livingstone : Chapter 3 Live Life King Size

Having experienced one of the most extreme adventure sports, the gush of thrill was still in our bloods. This trip had been very exhilarating so far, but what was to come next has amazed all who know and have seen our pictures of the day.

Africa is renowned for its wildlife and variety of Safari options, and Zambia is famous for one such extreme safari at ‘Mukuni Big 5’. The rustic route to the safari enclosure, flanked with thick forests on either side of rough patchy red-muddy road, with no traffic at all, counsels one for the forthcoming ultimacy.

Having got the passes and instructed by the facilitator, we marched our way bravely, with one sleek stick each, towards the King and Queen of the jungle. Following 40min walk was a royal experience with the Lion King strolling around and flirting with the Lioness, while they were trailed by us with their tails in our hands. Being marked by the king (with an invisible ink ;P), we emerged out of the forest with the Lion and Lioness petted by us. The respectful generosity of the Rulers of the Jungle has bestowed upon us the feeling of having tailed the royalty in real sense.

But this was not enough, and we went a little beyond our limits. Walking the King boosted our spirit to go ahead and play with the fastest living creatures; so there we were enjoying the company of three very agile Cheetahs in the middle of the wilds. I fail to recollect the names of the two other than the mischievous Lily, who had specially picked me as her favorite and constantly tried to hug me tight ;P; not to forget her mates warning glare into Nisheeth’s eyes (pictures show how loved he felt by him).

That concluded our Livingstone trip and we headed back to Lusaka, contended with the mind boggling everlasting beautiful memories, captured in our hearts, minds and cameras.

A weekend at Livingstone : Chapter 2 Jump of Life

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Visit to the Victoria Falls has given us a huge collection of scenic photographs that we'll cherish forever; but there is a set of photographs in the collection that gives us an adrenaline rush each time we see them. Heights, depths and adventure sports have always fascinated me and my husband and we do have our 'to-do' lists; one in my husbands 'to-do' list was to become 'have-done' here.

The Victoria Falls has been one of the worlds renowned bungee jumping sites, the 111m jump, from Victoria Falls Bridge over Zambezi river, between Zambia and Zimbabwe, has been a haven for adventure junkies.

The very step towards the bridge makes one's heart skip a beat or two upon the screams of jumpers scaling down the canyon walls, so did mine, specially knowing that my man would not miss the chance to do it. Fighting the constant conflict between difficulty, danger, desire and dare, the decision was taken, and there we were at the registration desk signing the indemnity bond. Craziness had taken us over; I am not sure who was more anxious, I or him, but we had eyes fixed and fear hidden to live a dream of 'being-there-done-that'.

I get exactly the same goose-flush every time I recollect the moment when my husband, clad in harness, was held by the instructor to step out of the platform and fall free. My heart didn't beat until the rope was full stretched and recoiled; that was the first moment I regained my conscious and clicked a photograph, the one that makes me feel a high of his desire being fulfilled, of having jumped 'the Jump of Life'.

Everybody clapped and enjoyed the jump, and I ran to the other end of the bridge to welcome my King who had just conquered the Victoria Gorge from Tip-to-Toe.

A weekend at Livingstone : Chapter 1 : Cloud that Thunders

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It was just two days that we had reached Lusaka and I was once again packing, though this time just a small weekend traveler sack bag, and the early next morning we had hit the road for Livingstone. Stopping at several places to stretch and flex our muscles; crossing many villages from Kafue to Mazabuka to Choma to Zimba, flanked or perhaps outlined with a variety of speed-breakers (from ass-shakers to back-breakers); cruising 600Kms in almost five hours and a half (thanks to Japanese roads) , we were finally at the historic city of Livingstone. Now named after the Scottish missionary explorer Sir David Livingstone, this town was earlier called Maramba but later renamed so, and listed amongst 'the UNESCO World Heritage Sites' for its splendid cascade of falling waters renowned today as 'the Victoria Falls'.

With 335ft high excitement (thats the max height of the fall) we reached the lodging facility of Jollyboys Camp Site, where a big poster of Mr Nangana-the crocodile welcomed us with a statement 'I Eat People' (typically wild welcome). Quickly finishing the check-in formalities and freshening up a little we headed straight to the pilgrimage of the day, The Falls.

While walking towards the wonder, from gates in the direction showed by Sir Livingstone, I could hear and feel the strong gush of water; soon the heavenly Victoria Falls, indigenously called 'Mosi-oa-Tunya', meaning 'Cloud that Thunders', was roaring loud in front of me. Though it was the commencement of the dry season (as per the climate statistic and fall standards), yet the enormousness of this water body could not be challenged. The height, expanse and depth I was experiencing was epitome of each.

Facing the lips of the waterfall that was once called 'the end of the world' by Arabs, I felt an unknown peace and gratitude to nature. Victoria Falls seemed to have carved itself to our amazement; multiple rainbows decorating 'Mosi' proved Davis Livingstone's words,“Scenes so lovely must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight”.These falls truly are natures way of reminding us that the greatest and prettiest marvels are still natural, and not man-made.

From Miss to Mrs in 24hrs.......................

November 6, 2011, Sun had not risen but I had risen out from bed to take a look on my mehendi; the deep red color on my hands and feet somehow tickled me inside (for first time, out of the 3 in all, I was truly happy for being beautifully clad in mehendi). Anxiously I grabbed the phone and spoke to a friend (who couldn't come to Allahabad) non stop for next one hour (she was surprised with my words as has always known me as a listener and not otherwise). 

Gradually everybody started getting up and out of beds, and moving into the festive and chatty moods. I could see almost everyone doing something or else relating to wedding, as all had been assigned some or other responsibility by my mapa (I felt alien to be spared from being given a task for a change ! Not that I mind ;)  ). All were in haste but I. I was in a state of peace with myself. I knew that 'tonight was going to be a night to change my life and me' and I had readied myself to experience this change.

A lot was planned for the day; Tilak had to be departed with my brothers to Nisheeth's place; Haldi ceremony had to take place; I had to go to the parlour. But to commence in order, the reverend Pandit Ji was late. I think finally someone was sent to his place to bring him and so his arrival obliged us and ceremonies officially started.

It was the day that was to have me keep changing dresses. First was haldi ceremony in a yellow cotton saree (Dress no.1). I surely enjoyed the short and sweet ceremony, with ladies humming sweet traditional songs and naughtily applying haldi on me. I felt very pure and country like. But as soon as it was over, everybody got into their true selves and got after my life to hurry up and clean up and eat and leave for parlour (ironical !! all took their own sweet time to cover me with Haldi but expected me to get ready and leave for Parlour at earliest ! unfair !). But being myself, I managed ( :P ) and left in time with two of my girlfriends. 

I was very tensed for how I will look finally (I am not a bling-bling girl and the parlour though reputed in town was new for me at least). After 3hrs long torture to my neck and back (for being made sit in awkward posture) I rose from chair to have a look at myself (bearing around 10kgs of clothes and ornaments), and the look made me comfortable (Ok yes ! I was happy with the job done by make up artist  ;) ). After few final touch ups, we left parlour for the venue (in Dress No. 2 for the day). Back there everyone went crazy taking pictures even before I could actually get inside. Solo-pictures, group-pictures,posed-pictures, picture-pictures; I felt like a celebrity in front of shutterbugs (no one asked for autographs though  ;) ).

Now while I and my friends were having final few moments before my stepping out of spinster-hood and stepping into a new world, I could listen to thumping of bands and crackling of crackers. My heart pounded as my groom and his baraat was approaching to me. I was too curious to have a look, and finally sprung to the window to have a look. I couldn't stop myself from swinging to the tunes of band (Someone came up from gate to tell that I could be seen so should not ;) ). It was the most exciting moment of the day, with I, dressed up as some model from a wedding designer's portfolio book, dying to locate my groom in the crowd. The immersive view is still very fresh in my mind and no picture or video can be compared to what I can see it as with closed eyes.

My family-to-be were to be welcomed with some Vedic chants and then it was my time to finally go to my groom on the stage, to be his bride. 

Each step towards him had to be taken as if counted (I had received strict instructions to not to march up to the stage !). I was to and so was looking down, but kept asking everybody around me 'Is he looking at me ?' (I wonder why was it so important to know if Nisheeth was looking at me while I was coming to him). He extended his hand to help me come up the stage (though after being coerced by his friends :D )and I thus climbed with his help to stand with him, by him. The dramatic Jaimal took place and we were taken to dance floor (To be true I very much wanted to dance on my wedding  ;) so thanks to all who took us there!!! ). With anxious heart and happy mind I and Nisheeth did swing a little together (I still remember that it was playing 'Sheila Ki Jawani' then, mmmm wish it was Chhamak Chhalo instead  :D .. lollzz ).

After few hours of sitting on the stage and talking to each other while everyone openly scrutinized us and relentless photographers kept forcing us in supposedly 'picturesque poses', we left for dinner (wahaan bhi photographers ne peechhha nahi chhoda,, I wonder if at all they even dined).

It was soon time for me to get ready for wedding ceremony (it meant I had to get into Dress n. 3). Then started hours long riot of Vedic Chants, circles around holy fire and such complicated related rituals. All the time during this too, I and Nisheeth were chatty and smiley (all our pictures and recording has us with ear to ear smile :D ).  Thus the wedding was concluded with sindoor daan and blessings from our wedding. And so I was Mrs Ajita Nisheeth Saxena now :) .

With a few more interesting playful events in between, it was to be time for me to bid bye to my family, relatives and friends to get into my new family, Nisheeth's family (what was interspersed was the stubborn argument on Nisheeth's shoes stolen by my girls, and  :) few sweet answers to me for questions asked to Nisheeth by my friends n cousins  ;)  ). I was somewhere curious to know if I'll finally cry at my vidaai (I am pretty infamous that I never do !), and when the moment arrived, I lived upto everyone's expectations and smilingly hugged my teary mapa and relatives (I know they could and do understand what my feelings were) and left holding Nisheeth's hands firmly, to step into the dreamy world of companionship (in Dress No. 4).

Happy I was;Happy I am; to be blissfully married so .....

Voyage to be Wed.......

That was Nov 1, 2010 when mapa were leaving for Agra and I was in complete agitation and irritation because a day before (31st Oct, my birthday), first time ever, they had mentioned the word 'Marriage' to me. The preconceived notions about the institution of marriage and that too at a stage when I had just started my career, had put my mind in a very bad shape.

But now it was 2011, times had changed and so had my feelings. After exactly one years time, on Nov 1, 2011, I was again bidding bye to mapa, this time happily, as they were going to Allahabad to give final touch to my wedding preparations. The moment mapa got into taxi I felt as if I had never been parted this way with them. It seemed to be a farewell that was to divide all my love and care for them.The feeling was inexplicable.

The countdown had begun; these were my last 5 days of 'single-dom' and last 3 days at home (all on my own).I was still to go to office for a day and then was on leave from Nov 3 (at office people gave me looks that said 'you should have been on leave by now' and I gave them a smile').

Now friends and acquaintances started paying visits (those who wouldn't be coming were coming with wishes and gifts). I was a little disappointed as two of my very specials ones, a friend and a cousin, would not be making it to wedding (certain things are always out of our hands, no matter how well we plan), but I was happy too, as many other special ones had reached or were coming from far and distance. Few of my friends whom I had not met for years made it too. It was good to have their presence during the times when my life was taking a new turn. I was in an excited state of being curious, jittery and edgy; sweetly confused with a lot to be said and heard but no appropriate words to explain.

With numerous things in mind we finally left for Allahabad on Friday, 4th Nov. There were 10 of us including my friends and cousins and relatives for an overnight train journey. We reached Allahabad early in the morning next day. Funny part was, while we were waiting for the taxi at parking I realized that the guy standing adjacent to us was Nisheeth (My Allahabad Aim ;) ) who had come to receive some friends (I was amazed with this beginning); and then started a non-stop leg pulling by my friends and cousins (things said and heard can't be shared here ! lolz).We directly went to the venue from station and for the entire day I had relatives reaching from all over India, one after the other.

Then my 'the-then-would-be-bro-in-law' commenced the Mehendi celebration by bringing in the Haldi and Mehendi from my Sasuraal. Once I was done with my Mehendi application (which was a little strenuous as I had never before sat so very still for so long) started a riot of music and dance. We all danced like crazy. (I go pink when see myself in the video recording). I think even the photographer and DJ must have gone into shock to see a mehendi clad bride-to-be dancing in pajamas (ROFL !).

It was my Bua's birthday too so we had a small cake cutting ceremony and a satiating chicken dinner before getting into bed (I didn't say 'going to sleep' as sleepless with anxiety all of us were, especially I). Next day was to be our Big Day.

Not Single but Mingled !!!!!

5th June 2011, I was on way back from Connaught Place with my cousin and the converstaion was mostly one sided (between me and Vineet its mostly so, I speak and he makes funny faces); I was anxious as it was yet another meeting with a prospective groom and his family in the evening and like past cases I had a prejudiced 'no' in my mind . Vineet knew this and was counseling me to calm down.

Withstanding all the apprehensions and agony, the moment came when we were sitting with a family that could possibly be mine.Glances were exchanged, words shared, drinks taken, and after an hour of awkwardness things settled to discuss further later over telephone, and we dispersed.

Somehow I realized that this time I just couldn't move on,and instead actually wanted to know more (but being myself I would/could never show). So with the desire of hearing more concealed nicely, I got myself engrossed in my life back again. 

But as the ball rolled, our families (thankfully! ) helped us talk more, meet again and left the judgment of our lives on us. A  judgment that had to ornate our lives forever.

The moment is still very clear in my memory when dad asked if it was a 'yes' or 'no' and I very diplomatically had said 'I don't mind'  (but I did mind it very much ! I had butterflies playing soccer in stomach), and dad's words were 'we want you guys to be engaged !'. It echoed non-stop. I gathered all my conscious and called him up to talk out our acceptance. I felt a little above the ground. He seemed to be reciprocating very patiently, but I was in some other world; with mixed feelings, happy-nervous, excited-anxious,gabby-silent; all together and nothing at all.

Carrying this state for a forthnight, we finally got engaged on July 9th at Allahabad (Last time I was here,at my birth place, I was 7 and this was my first visit since then ). I had surprised myself (and shocked a few others later with the news !), not because I agreed and got engaged, but because I was happy to be engaged to this person whom I had met only twice before and was talking to for only 20 days, but I was happy.

Hence forth, my life changed; my weekends got busy and my sms count was on all time high (only then I discovered that when out of memory my phone gives alarms of message not received due to same.. lolzzz !!!). I smiled often, every buzz made people around curious, every time I used laptop I was supposed to be chatting with my fiance (mostly true ! ).I feel funny when I recall what we talked about; we hardly had things in common so still hunting for reasons, we pinged each other, went shopping and savored time together. Had fun throughout the courtship days !

At home, preparations had geared up for the wedding. The day chosen was Nov 6, 2011 and place Allahabad. Venue had been booked and shopping list finalized (and revised and again finalized and yet again revised and so on until I got married !!!!)

Time seemed to have run past in a flash and had landed us into the month of November. In a weeks time, from Miss Ajita S Varma, I was to be Mrs. Nisheeth Saxena.  :)

I am not a patriot !!!

It’s that time of the year again when the country called India gets tricolored all over.  The ‘Tiranga’ waivers in the sky and we inhale tunes of great yesteryears with every breath we take in. The pride, the connection and the respect gets instilled and drips in every action of we. The television channels, the radio stations, the magazines, the newspapers all get dipped in the emotions of patriotism.

But I don’t.

Yes it’s true, that I am not a patriot because I don’t.

I don’t get angry when my neighbor is murdered because she married the one she loved; instead go in hidings in fear of being found as a witness. I don’t try to wipe the tears of a naked hungry child on the road, who is the future of our nation, instead I shoo him away of his being dirty. I don’t bother about littering the roads of my mother nation, I like to crib that she doesn’t shine the way the country of my dreams does. I don’t save a pregnant lady from dying due to malnutrition and lack of medical supervision, but check instead if she can pay my fee for the same. I don’t help those who go out and out to teach the one’s who didn’t have the luxury to be taught, instead I prefer going for a movie on the same issue. I don’t try to be a part of the prestigious defense authorities who enable us call our nation as ours. I don’t play the games I like to watch, but I do get furious when others don’t play the way we want them to. I don’t oblige traffic rules, as I prefer practicing the skills of my favorite video game on roads too. I don’t stop the mob from destroying public property, because a truck hit a bus, instead I join them in their destructive anger. I don’t discourage people from participating in ‘Bandhs’ when my country is still healing from the wounds of economic jolt and people are dying of hunger as they need wages to buy food. I don’t say ‘I won’t’ when someone seeks bribery from me, as I need to get my work done anyhow. I don’t stop my family from taking bribes, as that adds to my bank balance. I don’t vote, as voting booths are not air conditioned and queues are too long. I don’t give my candidature in elections as I have heard that my country’s politics is too dirty to step in. I don’t care to use or respect any of the provided tools of constitution to make my country as I would wish it to be.

And so I am not a patriot, but I am not a hypocrite either.

My Cousin’s Wedding @ PATNA : Chapter 2 : My and Dad’s Departure

Mom had already had her piece of turmoil to make it to Patna and now it was my and Dad’s turn to wait and watch how things would unfold for us (though we were mentally prepared for surprises, but sometimes no preparation prepares enough).

Mom had reached on Thursday (17th) morning and we were to leave on Friday (18th) evening at 2015hrs. Thursday evening was again a busy evening, with last minute hurdles to be cleared, as my office and dad’s client discussions on Friday wouldn’t have left us with anytime to even look for the lock and key.

So every nick was knacked till wee hours. We were so ready that only thing unchecked on our ‘things to do before I board the train’ was ‘* board the train’. By the time I and Dad went to our beds it was already 1am (but both of us knew that we were sleepless thinking about what North eastern Railways had in bag for us! ).

Friday the 18^th arrived with a bright Sun. Things seemed perfect with I and Dad ready to kick start the day and finally wrap it up on berths in the AC coach of our train; with that spirit I left for office.

As our train was scheduled for departure at 2015hrs from New Delhi, we’d had to leave as early as 1700hrs in order to avoid peak office hour traffic jams (Yes! once again I had to take an almost half day’s off). My colleagues were already made familiar with the series of incidents that made mom reach Patna 24hrs late and so they were eager to follow my forthcoming adventure too. But the moment I shared my train’s name, there was a pin drop silence in the room for almost 10sec and then I was standing with raised brows and frowned forehead in a pool of laughter; same excuse-nist colleague of mine enlightened me that the train I had booked was the most infamous one to get as late as almost getting cancelled.

This time I had to take his words seriously (After all I was once bitten twice shy). So I decided that I’ll try to follow up with my train’s status before wasting another half day’s leave. It was 1200hrs and not just I but my whole team was trying to look for possible means of ensuring my train’s departure timings.

Finally at about 1420hrs the 139 Railway enquiry call center executive uttered my train’s number and the operators words were ‘train number 12402, Magadh Express from New Delhi is running late by 17hrs and it’s expected departure is 1315hrs on Saturday from New Delhi Railway station.

For that moment whole world came crashing on me. I was awaiting a delay but not as long as 17hrs. Who boards a train after that much of delay? What if it gets further delayed? What if it finally reaches on Sunday evening (Di’s marriage was scheduled for then) ? That’ll kill the whole purpose of our travelling to Patna ( I could almost see myself an Dad reaching the wedding venue with our bags in our hands when Di was leaving with Jeejs after marriage). I was so very disheartened that for a few minutes I decided to drop the plan to go at all.

But then I got a flash from my school times when my English teacher had once shared Albert Einstein’s words with us, ‘If there was a hope, it comes from east, it comes from India’; and I realized that being an Indian wanting to travel to east India I must keep faith.

With that Einstein’s hope I shared the scenario with Dad over phone and suggested him to visit a travel again to look for options in other trains; thus started a race against the scheduled/ delayed/cancelled/ rescheduled trains to Patna that could make our arrival to Patna meaningful enough. But at around 1630hrs I and Dad had finally given up and concluded that we had no option other than playing the gamble of boarding the train no. 12402, Magadh Express, already delayed by 20hrs, (as not going was not an option) and with droopy eyes and spirit I shared the same with my fellow team mates.

Listening to that the excuse-nist rose from his chair and said aloud in a filmy style ‘why fear when I am here!’, he asked, ‘you surely want to reach Patna in time no matter how much it costs?’, I said. ‘if it’s not in 5 figures, yes !’. And then he made a few calls back to back; asked my details and conveyed the whole issue to the person on the other side of the call. Once he disconnected l, looked at me with a smile and said, ‘cancel all previous bookings on Magadh, I have got you tickets on Gareeb Rath Express which is running late by 11hrs. It had to leave at 1715hrs today but shall leave tomorrow at 0430hrs, so gear up!’.

Whohaa ! What a moment it was! I was speechless! The excuse-nist had become the exorcist who had changed entire scene in my favor as against Mamta Didi’s (Railway Minister). My eyes sparkled; my entire team became cheery all over again; and as I told my Dad about the scenario I could hear a sigh of relief from him on the call.

The guy whose words I had initially blown in the air had become the hero for my trip and I couldn’t stop thanking him. The tickets were mailed to my personal email-id that I had to check at home, so things looked quite positive. With a grateful feeling I came back home after completing the day to office and to checked my mail anxiously. There were suddenly 60 unread mails in my inbox so hunt for The Mail was obvious, but I finally fund the mail and opened it with a grin to cherish the beauty of my ticket to Patna. But perhaps the planetary positions of the day had something against my blood pressure and the ticket played with it too. Our ticket had waiting status 50 and 51 which was not a very pleasing view at all.

The very moment I called my, suddenly become, erstwhile-savior to make him aware of the situation but he sounded confident and asked me to check the PNR status; and yes he was right; our tickets had got confirmed (due to 12hrs delay people had rushed  into cancellations and many waiting listed had got confirmed ours being one of them).

Now I was completely elated. Suddenly, a train that was 12hrs late seemed to have got late especially to help me out of a tricky situation. Dad booked a cab for us to reach to station so early in the morning as to catch our newly booked train on time, while I cancelled our earlier booked tickets (ones that were  confirmed 2months in advance).

Saturday rose early, even before the Sun, and we were on station platform at 4am in the morning with hundreds of others, many of whom visibly were waiting for the train for last 12hrs at the platform itself. At 0440am , we were on our berths and train departed from railway station for Patna Junction, expected to reach at 1810hrs the same evening.

We had left but there still was time to reach to Patna…

My Cousin’s Wedding @ PATNA Chapter 1 : Mom’s voyage to PATNA

 

When the plan for attending my cousin’s wedding @ PATNA had conceived, one of my colleagues had sarcastically commented “it was different if it were about shifting to Patna, but a to-n-fro visit becomes a complete IT project; until one reaches the destination it’s a POC ( Proof Of Concept, shows feasibility of obtaining desired IT product), and when one reaches back home its only then that the project is successfully complete”(this had come from the guy at my office whom I call the Excuse-nist).

Back then I took it as a joke and exaggeration (they are expertise to this colleague of mine) and instead was certain about my seemingly perfect-possible-planning as all our return tickets were already confirmed 2months in advance (sometimes we confuse our own ignorance with confidence !!!!).

So after the train reservations, shopping and packing had taken over our concerns.

Who’ll wear what? Who’ll carry what? Number of baggages! Gifts!

There was a lot to do and was being done too. I and Mapa had assigned ourselves respective tasks to achieve the goals in time, so as to not to miss an item in the checklist before boarding our trains.

Di’s (elder sister) marriage was scheduled for 20 February, 2011, Sunday. Mom was reaching on 17^th (Wednesday) morning by departing from Delhi on Tuesday evening at 1730hrs, and I and Dad on 19^th (Saturday) morning by departing from Delhi on Friday evening at 2015hrs, (because I and Dad had professional commitments and Ma’s early presence at Patna was seeked ).

By 15^th (Monday) evening, I was done shopping for everything on my checklist; Dad was done packing everything on his list; Mom was done preparing half/pre-cooked food for our next 2 days without her.

And then suddenly, Dad’s phone rang aloud, disturbing us while striking off items on our ‘things to do before I board the train’ lists; on the other end of the telephonic conversation it was shared with us that Dad had an urgent meeting to attend at Agra, so by no means he could help Mom board the train so ‘make mom board the train’ was added to my ‘things to do before I board the train’ list.

Now started the planning for dropping Ma to station (yes we had to plan because my beloved city,Delhi’s traffic is too erratic). So it was decided that I would take a half day’s off from office and we shall leave for railway, station by 1515hrs so as make mom board the train comfortably (I was little conscious as mom hadn’t travelled on train for years, lest travelling alone).

With all that strategized mindset the next day started quite early with Dad leaving for Agra at 0500hrs in the morning. Then as expected, I left for office at 0800hrs and accordingly left for back home at 1300hrs.

On reaching home, I found mom anxiously doing last minute things in hurried manner and to calm her down started helping her do small things like locking up the bags and wrapping up the food for the travel. At around 1445 I realized that we could enquire about platform details by calling on 138 (Railway Enquiry: released only 3hrs before trains scheduled departure timings).

As only a score of minutes was left for us to leave for station I kept phone on loudspeaker mode and continued wrapping up all that had to be wrapped up. The automated enquiry system was listing details of all the trains scheduled to leave in next 3hrs, so I heard carefully and patiently and then finally, the till-then-seemingly sweet voice of the operator said ‘train number 12394, Sampoorn Kranti Express, from Delhi to Patna Junction, scheduled to depart from New Delhi Railway Station at 1730hrs is running late by 8hrs 0min and is expected to leave from New Delhi Railway Station at 0130hrs’.

Now what? How? Who? Why?

Mom had already cursed Ministry of Railways, Mamata Didi (our Railway Minister), Ticketing System, Railway Engineers, Trains and even James Watt.

I had my own concerns; my half day was wasted and Dad who’s been travelling whole day will have to stay awake for whole night for understood reasons under present scenario.

Now we had nothing to do; anger and tire has taken me and Mom over, and in our exasperation made us hungry and we binged into the wrapped food cussing no-one and anyone who could be blamed for our irate.

I was continuously checking for the status of the delayed train, wishing/fearing for the ‘cover-up’  of the expected delay of our awaited train, but in vain as with every passing couple of hours the train kept getting further delayed for half an hour more.

Now I wished for it to get so late as to let us sleep atleast (as better was worse or worse was better was out my scope of judgment).

Well! With all the confusion, irritation, anger and tension, finally mom boarded the train on 17^th (Wednesday) at 0830hr (yes it was 15hrs late, this was the time she had to reach Patna) and left Delhi for PATNA.

Our day’s ordeal was over, but Mom’s patience was tested even more as the train finally got further late by 9hrs during its go and Mom reached PATNA 24hrs late against our planning.

Partial POC was managed to be dragged to success, next was I and Dad to reach……

(to be continued)