Tag Archives: Memories

Unforgettable Train Journey


Travelling in train now is as common as riding a bicycle., specially in India where train is the most convenient mode of transport offering comfortable and cheap Journey. Matter of fact: India has the fourth largest railway network in the world

I would say that the train journey in India  is part of the culture as well. Right from the bye byes and tears, with the farewell said to the friends and families to the ‘Samosa’ vendors strolling through the Train. How can an Indian train journey could be complete without hearing the ‘Chai,Chai’ humming at least once?

As a kid, I was also very much fascinated by these massive big machines that run on rails. While waiting at level cross for train to pass, I wondered about the time, when I will be travelling in this gigantic vehicle. And when I was 10 years old, I had the first taste what it feels like travelling in train. I still can remember the shine in my eyes and the fascination with which I glared at the platform, when the train started moving slowly.

I was travelling with my Father and Mother, and my little brother who was then 4 year old. We were in first class compartment, which was indeed a luxury for us in those times, but attainable because of the fact that my father was a army man then. It was a locked room compartment us, just for us. We enjoyed the little family privacy for the 3 days and 2 nights of journey.

But the real dream got fulfilled even after one year. The time when my father’s regiment moved to another state. The entire unit was packed into a single private train was we moved out as a chartered train. It was a fun filled journey lasted for 7 days. Since it was a kind of chartered train, the other trains had the priority and we moved on when the track was free. Though the actual distance was just for a 3 days journey, I would never complain those days spend in the train. I still could remember the early morning when the slowly crossed the bridge over the Krishna river and entered the ‘Vijayawada station. The station is situated between 3 mountains and the river flows through the mountains. The misty morning in that station is an unforgettable experience ever in my life.

Still I didn’t mention about the dream that got fulfilled in this long journey. During this epic train travel in my life, I got to be in engines of both electric and diesel trains. It was a rare opportunity to have while the train is running. May be a once in a life time opportunity that just got consumed in that early age of mine. But the memories as I always cherish stay on and on with me.

Coming to present, I don’t have the same excitement to travel in train as I used to have in that age. Now, I travel in train occasionally to travel to my home town and back. If the budget allows me, I would prefer to travel in bus than train as I feel a night bus to my home city is less time consuming and comfortable than those extra hours in the train.

Still memories linger around me with each train journey reminding me of those days when I watched the train with excitement and then screaming out loud when I was speeding away in that engine compartment. Quite a memorable memory.

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Why did I start Blogging?


A question, I never asked myself. Maybe the answer to this question lies in a very old memory, hidden deep in my mind. Something, that has to be searched for, something not easily catchable. Something important.

My rendezvous with words began with my love with books. I loved reading. Those imaginations bind in words, unleashed with each words, those sentences that took me to far away lands, into the lives of many great men and women. I saw their lives from very near in my imagination. I liked the very perspective of journeying through the imagination and living with many lives of character that took birth in author’s mind and continue to live in every readers heart. This love, that bind me to the words made me a writer. As with any passion, first you notice it, then starts to enjoy it, then love it and then you wish to create it. The ultimate of every passion is the wish to create it. And I began my humble journey with the magic of words.

Writing is not an easier task. At least to me. I often wonder how those great writers played with the words. How it was possible to bind each and every minute details of their imagination to words and then imprint it  on to the pages that unleash to the readers imagination, once those words pass through their mind. A truly, genuine work of God’s unmatched gift.

I do have a imagination. I must say dreams. A vivid character filled dreams. Each dream taking me to different scenes of life, where I am a part. With each dream, a story unreels in my mind. And I am desperate to put them into words. And I do understand that it is not an easy task. The connection of words with the dreams or imagination should be authentic and genuine enough to be recreated by the reader. May be some day, I will be able to create such a bond. After it is The God who writes the script. I am just a character in his Stage.

My Childhood Home


The best thing about me are my memories. I have many times expressed through my web logs that I have a very good memory of my life. And it is most likely that my life will uncover one day through a series of blog posts , unraveling an auto biography. I remember everything, I must be specific, almost every important and unimportant events that happened ever since I can recognize what is a memory.

Sometimes, memory gets interlinked with imagination. When my grandpa says, I used to run ahead of him, when he walked me back from pre school. I see that in my eyes, but I cant be sure whether its a memory from the 3 year old boy, an age where I can rarely use much of brain to keep events in memory. My brain was so occupied those times, learning the new things, I always loved.

At this point, I am unsure whether I loved being a child or not. There were many good things that happened to me, also the bad things. One thing that I am pretty sure is that I was very happy even then to be let alone. I liked my privacy. I liked reading, playing, and experimenting alone. It included making roads in the sand dump in front of my house or driving the broken suitcase wheel(It was my super bike then), over the line of ants killing them. Though I regret that very much now, I do swear that I didn’t know the meaning of life and death then. Once I understood those meanings and the pain it takes, I never harmed a living creature to death knowingly.

I stayed in my childhood home for almost first 6 years of my life. It was my mother’s home. It was old and leaky. Once my room had the concrete roof and I was very proud of that. That room of mine was my world. Unless for cleaning, I never let anyone in my room willingly. I was so proud of my room.

A Dive Into Memories


I have often wondered why the time always moves on. Time is one of the anomaly that science cannot define with specificity. For me, Time is defined as something that cannot be reverse and stopped. A change that continues in a steady rate applicable to all the matter in the universe. But humans, with that unique brain of him, has the ability to defy time in one manner or other – The Memories.

Memories and thought process allow man to live in all the three states of time – past, present and the future. Learn from the past, live in the present and wait for the future. Amazing. isn’t?

My Childhood Home


The best thing about me are my memories. I have many times expressed through my web logs that I have a very good memory of my life. And it is most likely that my life will uncover one day through a series of bog posts , unraveling an auto biography. I remember everything, I must be specific, almost every important and unimportant events that happened ever since I can recognize what is a memory.

Sometimes, memory gets interlinked with imagination. When my grandpa says, I used to run ahead of him, when he walked me back from pre school. I see that in my eyes, but I cant be sure whether its a memory from the 3 year old boy, an age where I can rarely use much of brain to keep events in memory. My brain was so occupied those times, learning the new things, I always loved.

At this point, I am unsure whether I loved being a child or not. There were many good things that happened to me, and also bad things. One thing that I am pretty sure is that I was very happy even then to be let alone. I liked my privacy. I liked reading, playing, and experimenting alone. It included making roads in the sand dump in front of my house or driving the broken suitcase wheel(It was my super bike then), over the line of ants killing them. Though I regret that very much now, I do swear that I didn’t know the meaning of life and death then. Once I understood those meanings and the pain it takes, I never harmed a living creature to death knowingly, except some cockroaches.

I stayed in my childhood home for almost first 6 years of my life. It was my mother’s home. It was old and leaky. Once my room had the concrete roof and I was very proud of that. That room of mine was my world. Unless for cleaning, I never let anyone in my room willingly. I was so proud of my room. That room became part of the history as the growing home of me. Well readers, please address that mention of history as ‘Just my history’. I am just another blogger like you .

Joy In The Air


It’s another Christmas. Years and years after, the meaning of Christmas has changed for me. Once, Christmas was celebration, then to an occasion to participate and then just another holiday for relaxing from work.

In my early school days, it was moments of Christmas celebration in the school that made the upcoming vacation full of happy memories. Decors, cakes, and Carol songs filled the class rooms. The missionary school, I attended to, offered a lot for celebration during Christmas. The high school, though it was also a Christian missionary school, the celebrations was not expensive, but a bare minimal of Carols by students, some skits and some competitions. The college days marked the parting of Christmas as a happy celebration moments, except for the sms that students used to send each other on day. Since, I hadn’t had that luxury to have a mobile on those days, I wasnt part of this electronic celebration.

And now, working the brains out all through the week days and yearning for an off day, the Christmas is rather a joy for ever. An assured time out every year. And for this reason, I have every reason to celebrate this Christmas with my sweetheart in the city of my dreams, where I landed about six months back.

Life Is Crazy


I always knew and believed that life is a natural changer. Whether we want to, or know it or not, life has its own changes imprinted upon us.

6 years : not a short-term maddy. We had been together for 6 long years. The school life in St Marys wouldn’t be complete without a few names, who are entitled as ‘My School Friends’. I never had such an attachment to any people who walked in and out of my life. But these guys are special.

I am talking about the time, life and transformation and the school guys, all at the same time. How all fit into a perfect portrait? and Life is Crazy?Where in the name of holy ghost did that come from?

I was watching the movie,”Wake Up Sid’, and was enjoying the song “Life is Crazy”. At the same moment, I got the call from one of my school friends. He informed me of a get together at museum grounds. I was so delighted to see old friends.

There were four of us, cracking on the past and present events. It was a great intimate moments for us. I haven’t seen most of them for more than a year or so.. Right from their talks, I realized : the life changes. The cool guys has grown more understanding and has learnt a lot from the life. The irony is that we all hail from the IT industry, though, we all have a different perspective towards the future. That is the transformation that life has brought up on us. We have grown from the careless guys to responsible thinkers. Those light moments and the memories blew a cool wave on me. We talked about having your passion as profession, which many of us couldn’t work out yet.

On my way back home, I was thinking of all those guys and girls who made my school life. And from where we stand now, at different paths of life, we are still brought together by the very memories that paved the base of our existence. Do I sound crazy? nah

LIFE IS CRAZY