I am definitely not a travel freak, but then, India is such a big country, that you have to travel 2000 kms to get to your home. Last week I did some travelling, all alone. Though the experience was one of it’s kind, I don’t intend to travel in that direction ever again.
Just for your knowledge, I HATE SWEATING.
On Tuesday morning, I had to catch the train, at 6:30. It was easy. After walking for some metres, I was lucky to get an auto-rick, and that too at the normal rate. I reached the station in time. And when the train finally arrived, I cuddled into my seat, without any problems. I had only one bag-pack. The journey was about to last only 24 hrs, to and fro, so there wasn’t much to carry.
But, as soon as I boarded the train, my horoscope for the day was activated.
Whatever I saw, it had a pinch of Tamil Nadu. The people, the morning newspaper that my neighbour was reading, the talks of other passengers and everything else. I had “Masala Dosa” for breakfast. It was very different from what we get in Bangalore. The Dosawala, to my surprise, wasn’t speaking Hindi, not even Kannada or English. And in this part of the world, people normally don’t speak Oriya. So, how do I communicate? Alphabets are one thing, I really don’t know why the number system cannot be generalized for all languages? With the help of a fellow passenger, I was able to pay off the Dosawala. I felt sleepy, the AC in the compartment was tuned perfectly to suit the weather. The travel would last 6 more hours.
After 6 hours, the train stopped at the “Chennai Central”. I had heard a lot about this monument. This was the first time that I would see it with my own eyes. I was very excited. The moment I set my foot out of the train, a drop of sweat trickled down behind my right ear. I didn’t seem to notice it. I had hardly taken a couple of steps towards the exit, I realized that I was sweating profusely.
Being a well-informed traveller, I knew that Chennai was the “humid-est “ of all the cities. I was prepared for this. The handkerchief that was lying in my pocket got a chance to feel the heat, and taste the salt of my sweat.
From the station, I had to go to a place which was very difficult for me to even utter. Just near the entrance, 5 auto-walas surrounded me, “Saaaar, Auto” ???
I promptly refused, and walked away from them only to find another group of auto-walas waiting for me. The bus stop was just in-front of the station. I looked at one of them. Gosh!!! Everything was in “Tamil”. I asked one fellow, if he knew a place called “Semancherry” and how far was it. He replied in Tamil. The next person also seemed to know only Tamil. After 4-5 tries, I gave up and finally walked towards the auto-walas. He knew the place, Great!!! “Saaar, 450”.
Luckily, I was able to reach the place in time for the interview changing 2 buses.
The interviewer, seeing me, laughed and said,”Boy, we need more ACs in here”.
The interview went on for one and a half hour, and with 2 ACs switched on, I was still sweating.
After the interview, I changed 2 buses and took an auto to reach at the “Chennai Central” just in time. Now I remember that I had missed my lunch. I didn’t have to look hard for dinner. There was a Biriyani Counter, from where I had my lunch-cum-dinner. A glass of fresh lime juice, i thought would dry up all the sweat . But it didn’t help. Even the cool evening breeze failed to evaporate my sweat. The return journey was in a sleeper coach. Though I was sleeping on the return journey, I was still sweating.
I had planned to visit the Marina Beach, but was short on time. I will go again in the winters there to see if I sweat again.