Trains, Lathi & Movies

In a ladies coach of an intercity...over the uncomfortable 3 blue planked upper seat...lay me...tired, exhausted and deep into dreams. (After a 5 hr class, I was traveling in a general class for an urgent work at hometown.) Dreaming of a wonderful, smashing, late night discotheque party...with 'Char Baj Gayi Hai' being DJed with 'DK Bose'. In the zipping zapping zooming lights, feet moved like they were on Everready 9 batteries. Red cat jumping across the buildings and trees. (No, Jitendra, if was a Jumping Star, he happened to be the 'White Cat'.)

Amidst the Jazz moves and Bollywood jhatkas, suddenly, it seemed there were Duracell rabbits out-casting me, and my feet started to hurt. Like the moment when Geet misses her train, it was being played in slow motion in my visual cortex, and with each step that Duracell took, pain in my sole rose.

And then, in a flash of a second, I emerged from my dreams to the real world, a la Harry Potter coming out of the pensieve basin, to realize that a police lathi had just hit my soles. It couldn't have been the Wanted scene, and I could no ways be treated with the 3rd degree torture. I knew I was innocent. And when I was about to shout, 'Mein nirdosh hu!', a lady's voice said, 'Get this man down.' As I sat down reflexively, the male handkerchief over my face vieled down, and my untidy hair spread hitherto over my face let go my gender-identity. The policeman's lathi was inches away from my feet for the second hit, when the women in my compartment gave loud laughs, 'Arre aa to chori hai' ( Oh! She's a girl.)

My feet, my easy jeans, the brother's t-shirt (which I always wear for train journeys), and Dad's handkerchief (which are the only kinds existing in my closet) : All were being cursed. By me, for the pain was being felt by me, not those ladies, who had complained, and later enjoyed and laughed like one does on a 'Jaspal Bhatti's Ulta Pulta' comedy jig.

In that very moment, the 'Karz' Rishi Kapoor in me woke, to remember of a similar train journey, where clothed in a similar sense was a girl traversing some coaches. Quite a few passenger's faces felt familiar. One of those known guys, told her...W.A.I.T...he was talking to me...So, I was the girl and he was telling me. Ohkay. Feeling like being in a 'Source Code', I still gave an ear to him when he said, 'Boy, I've seen a girl with a similar face.'

Before I could figure out, I was removing the CK woolen cap. I, then, had retorted back flat-on-the-face, 'I love cross-dressing in Indian railways. It might be funny to you. But, it is safer for me.'

Subtle shaking followed, and my elder sister asked, 'Does it hurt much?'

'No, I'm fine.'

Getting the thoughts back in sequence, the 'Alice' in me realized it All Was Real. It had happened to me few years back, on my college trip.

Phew! Wonderland Instances I've had. Seriously.

'More such later. Night.', I wished my mind, and slept during the remaining journey.

Tele Says, 'Don't watch too many movies. They might just start living into you.'

Added word of Warning: If you're like me, Don't you Dare watch '404: Error Not Found' It is an insane psycho-thriller.