Life in the russle bustle of Idli Sambhar

I was driving my New Zen Estillo, & listening to the favourite Om Shanti Om Number & imagining the King Khan with his six pack abs & dancing with the numerous bollywood stars when suddenly the alarm rang & I got up only to realize the drive was a dream.

A dream which was reality some time back, to be precise a month back before I landed to this Hyundai City ( At least this is what the welcome board at the Kamaraj Airport Chennai reads )

Life has suddenly changed, I may call it a welcome change… A much needed change may be…A change of place, people, city, food….
The alarm snoozed again & I realized its time to get out of the bed. Pick up the milk packet & put it on the stove (Getting a gas connection in a new city , very difficult). Its time to wash the clothes & do the dishes & then grab a piece of toast & rush to the station. Yes there is a small temple; actually every nook n corner of this city has temples. So pray to God, to make the day’s journey if not relaxing atleast not people jumping over each other. Some how I manage to skip the stare of the numerous well dressed & well decked up with the required make up & gajra ladies waiting for the train, don’t know why but I get a feeling they think I have straight away landed from Mars. ;-)

I mange to get into the train & in the ladies compartment everything is happening right from finishing touches to the sari pleating pins, to the left over application of kajal, to getting to grab some last words before getting to work of your beloved. But everybody seems busy in their own job. In all this activity I find myself staring and looking out for a familiar face, a face which speaks my language or if not speaks atleast understands my language. Like everyday before my search completes the train manages to get my station & I leave it with a half hearted smile…. The mode of transport to cover the distance from the station to my work place is interesting where in a small three wheeler there are 22 feets traveling J atleast. Interesting isn’t it?...

The next eight hours is not worth discussing as it’s the same in any work place except for the food. Suddenly my rajma chawal & chole bhature becomes the most important food & the most delicious food could only be the Roti which my mom makes. But somehow I take whatever is there in the vegetarian platter & stuff myself.

As the sun decides to go down & meet his better half, if at all theres one, I wait to get back home, only to realize that getting back home is just not that easy, I mean again u be two among those 22 feets & then the train. The ladies compartment even if the seats are empty the doors would be full of rush. Trust me I also ask myself the same question as you asking & I don’t have the answer.

Whenever I m getting down the stairs of the station I only smile to myself & think about the dream I had the morning which was a reality a month ago. I in my car with my music on & AC actually helping me keep myself away from all the honking happening in the Norther part of India…. & here I m today taking almost 80 stairs every day of the station & then those share autos to reach my work place.
I ask myself is this all coz of a job???? With this question in my mind I live yet another day of my life & put the alarm on for tomo… Atleast I get to Zen estillo in my dreams…. Sweet Dream zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz