A Memorable Journey

I have to travel from Dehradun to Delhi via train. My ticket is not confirmed, it is Reserved Against Cancellation (RAC). "You should have taken a Volvo. But nothing can done now. You have a flight to catch in the evening. Better get your ass on this train." I tell to myself on my way to the railway station.

It is 0600 hrs. I have reached the railway station when I realize that I don’t have a hard copy of my ticket on me. I assure myself that the confirmation message on my phone may help convincing the train ticket examiner (TTE). I purchase a platform ticket and board the train.

After a few minutes, the TTE arrives with grim countenance and furrowed brow. He must be in his early fifties. He is six feet tall with a strong build, curly hair, big droopy eyes and walrus moustache. Overall, he doesn’t look the ‘easily-convinced’ types. I show him my platform ticket and explain my predicament. He listens to me carefully. I request him to make a fresh ticket for me. I also tell him that I am ready to bear the fine that I am liable to pay. He takes the platform ticket in his hand, then looks back at me and says, maintaining a straight face,

"On this ticket, I will have to make a ticket until the last station and you will have to pay the fine as well."
"Oops!! What do I do then?" I replied worriedly.

Meanwhile, the train has reached a small station and waiting for a signal. The TTE picks up his walkie-talkie and talks to the train driver, "There is an emergency. Don’t move the train until I ask you to."
"I have asked the train to stop. Go and get a ticket for yourself quickly."
I spring into action and rush to the ticketing counter.

When I return, the TTE says "I have a seat in the 2nd AC; why don’t you sit there until the train reaches Haridwar. I will see what I can do after that."
I lug my stuff and move to his seat.

It’s calm in here. I make myself comfortable, take out a book from my handbag, and start to read. I am totally engrossed in reading when the train reaches Haridwar and the TTE comes again.

“The XYZ passenger is not boarding the train. I am allotting his seat to you and also making a confirmed ticket, so you can travel peacefully.”

“Thanks a tonne.” I give him some money to express my gratitude. He smiles and steps out of the cabin only to return after a minute.

“Don’t you think you have been overly grateful?”
“I don’t understand.” I look at him in bewilderment. “Should I have paid him more? Is he being sarci? I have been never good at it anyway.”
He takes out a hundred rupee bill from his pocket and returns it back to me. "Have a safe journey."

I am completely dumbfounded. I pinch myself to check if I am dreaming. Heck! No. It is real.

Matters of the Heart

Of late, he started to complain of shortness of breath. I was with him when he was gasping for breath and I rushed him to the hospital. I was told that his heart has been damaged and has very little regenerative capacity. He was immediately placed on several cardiac drugs to help him stabilize. Over the next few weeks, he continued to have episodes of shortness of breath and extreme tiredness.

After he had been admitted to hospital once more, the cardiologist said that his heart was beginning to fail and heart transplant was the only cure or else I may have to face losing him completely.

I faced an anxious wait during the complex operation. I pondered over the factors that might have led to his heart condition. I understand that men are at a higher risk for heart failure than women but he is not that old. He doesn’t smoke, only takes alcohol but that too on rare occasions. He has always been active and energetic. But I admit that he has been leading a sedentary life for a while now. He has also been a little disturbed and isolated which may have caused a little depression but I never imagined that he was so stressed.

I was pleased when the medical team told me that he had come through the surgery very well. He was kept in the intensive care unit for 48 hours for close monitoring. Initially his immune system rejected the new organ but a few measures helped him accept the transplanted heart.

I knew that the heart transplant would make a big difference to his health and it has. He regained some of his old energy and he doesn’t get as tired any more. He is getting stronger all the time and I am so pleased that he is doing well.

Welcome back my dear Stefan!!

Edited to add:
To read more about Stefan, Me and Damon, please click here.

Open for (Mis)Interpretations

Misinterpretation is a pervasive phenomenon of social life, sometimes with serious consequences. It is especially hazardous in high-stake events, for instance in the legal system.

When we read a book, we hold a person’s life in our hand. Though the author tries to put his/her thoughts and feelings into words, it is not always possible to see into the emotions and thought process of the other person; hence the words are likely to be misinterpreted.

Even though we explain ourselves in simple words, the other person may have a different interpretation of what those words mean. For example, when a man says to a woman after a date, “I’ll call you later.” he is speaking very plain and simple English, but what he meant and what she understood could be two completely different things. The man “knows” what he means and the woman “knows” something else. We misinterpret because we assume that another person has the same meaning for words that we have, but they don’t.

She suffered from a similar episode when he figured out that she was in love. He also learned that she has known him for three years but during this time, they never met. They spoke a few times and she felt that he was a wonderful person. He gathered a few more hints but he never tried to relate them to himself. Instead he kept looking for the signs around him.

On his birthday, she designed a beautiful card for him but he didn’t acknowledge. Perhaps, he didn’t like her gesture of designing the card for him.

He kept to himself mostly but one fine day, he decided to leave a message for her.

“Isn’t it plain common sense that getting emotionally involved with someone who does not reciprocate and with whom one has not spent time developing a real relationship is stupidity?”

She had a mighty laugh. Then she realized he seriously had no clue she was in love with ‘him’. She didn’t know how to react.

“Yes, I think you’re right! It’s insane to love someone who doesn’t reciprocate. I shouldn’t be loving you.” She thought. She had lost her mind or was she coming back to her senses. I bet on the former. She wondered if she had the right to kiss his forehead before giving up on ‘the insanity’.

PS. The purpose of my blog is not to glorify my love or for him to read, it is just to express my feelings which I can’t really share with anyone because like you, none of my friends understand how I feel about him. I can’t even mention his name to anyone. Perhaps they all are right, including you.

Cruella de Vil - You are saved already but I am not coz I haven’t found ‘you’ yet. If you still don’t get it, you're the one I'm in love with... you're my ‘wonderwall’. I can identify your writing style in a thousand scripts. And your constructive feedback is welcome, anytime.

My Beloved - II

His endless accommodations elicited her trust in him to the extent that it was so easy for her to admit one day that she was having an affair. He felt bad and held himself responsible for her to look outside the relationship. He wanted her to stop seeing the other man but held back thinking that it would hurt her. Instead, he asked her if she planned to continue the affair and wanted him to leave.

One might have thought that this would have touched her heart and made her feel that she was married to an angel. Instead, it infuriated her.

She asked “Ain’t I worth anything to you at all?”
He just looked at her.
“Wont you say anything?”
He replied gently, hoping that it was the right thing to say, “Do you want a divorce?”
“Divorce!! God damn it. What the hell do you want?”
“I want your happiness. That’s all I ever wanted.”
“Don’t you think I deserve the happiness to make someone happy, too?”
“I don’t know.” Tears filled his large brown eyes and he stepped out.

He stayed at a friend’s for a week. When he returned, she had left.

Tears were rolling down his cheeks when the nurse came and shook him before giving him some medicines. For a moment, he wanted to believe what he saw was only a nightmare and that his real life was still good.

My dear beloved wife,

Marrying you has been an expensive affair and divorcing too. I must have disgorged 6 millions to you in alimony and you still play on my mind! I feel like a lost addicted gambler who continues to gamble despite knowing that he will never win for losing. Sometimes I get so agitated that I want to slap you, and sometimes pine for you. Since I no longer understand my mood swings, I decided to write this letter to you. I remember I wrote my first letter to you about 20 years ago. You were so beautiful back then. I wish you had never sat next to me that day. Neither would I have lost my heart to you within five minutes, nor would you have betrayed me; and I wouldn’t also have been trying to take my heart back from you. Now that you’ve taken your heart back, please return mine; I will make better use of it, perhaps will give it to someone else.

My beautiful witch, you have always been self-centered. Remember the day you came to the court for our divorce, how beautifully dressed you were as though it was our divorce party. And poor me, I thought I still mean something to you. I so wanted to request the judge that I won’t divorce you. But then your cold eyes revealed that I don’t mean anything to you for a long time. I am just a stranger to you who used to be your husband and you want to get rid of me. But you don't worry, I am not depressed without you. I listen to happy songs and party with my friends. All my friends 'here' know what kind of a woman you are and how much I hate you.

I am at home today, haven’t gone to work either… collecting your stuff which you left behind. Do you know how much space it occupies in my house? On top of that, do you know how much space you occupy in my head? Never mind. Tomorrow is the anniversary of our broken wedding, I have decided that I will murder you tomorrow evening. I have taken out your wedding dress and all your jewelry. I want you to dress like a bride again. I will divorce you again. I have booked a taxi and ordered flowers. So what I am going to murder you, I am a gentleman and I haven't forgotten my etiquette.

Today I was so furious that I decided that I will complete the letter before going off to sleep. We are anyway not allowed to step out of this asylum but don't worry, I will rent a helicopter or ask my friends to arrange a ship for me so that I can tell you that the day you left me, I was moved to this new house and since then I have been thinking about you. I can do anything for you my beloved but I don't want to think about you anymore. I am totally worn out. Please release me from your grip. Didn’t I tell you that I am 'mad' in your love… I am m.a.d.

Your ex-husband