Continuing from A night In Africa...........
My body was full of blisters. I had no idea what the hell was going on inside my body? Whatever it was it made me feel retarded, slow; it made me feel the fastness of the world around me. Everything except me was moving so fast. I like a looser was so calm and slow that I did not bother to get down from the upper berth for nearly 10 hours. Sleeping on that berth I kept observing the people around me and their activities. The traditional Indian railway aura was on its full swing. The chai walah ( the tea boy),the jhalmudi (snacks)vendors, the paper soap boy made frequent visit to our compartment with their own unique slogans. I remained silent. The bhangada was going on all over my body and the blisters kept popping on. I was crying from inside. I wished my family were there. These are the situations when I miss my mother so much. It was a bad day. I wished this train could convert itself into a Shinkansen and reach Dhanbad station as soon as possible.
It was 2:35 am in the morning when I deboarded the train at platform no 5 at Dhanbad station. Since I was late by 10 days for this session, I was the only ISMite on that train. The platform looked deserted. Apart from one or two coolies (the luggage carrier) there was no human presence.
In 5 minutes I was at the entrance gate of Dhanbad railway station. With face half covered with the hood of my pullover I started moving when a bunch of rickshaw pullers and the cabbies approached me with lucrative fares.I preferred a rickshaw. The 20 minute journey from Dhanbad station to ISM Dhanbad in a dark,cold,silent night was so pleasing. The city was sleeping. It never looked me so beautiful than it seemed to me at this moment of time. I hate my college when I am on the campus. But when I am off the campus this hatred gets diluted. After each vacations I join the college with new determinations, plans, and strategies only to see them shattering from the very next day onwards. It’s not the college fault that I don’t like it. It’s my fault. I know I am going to miss this place so much. No matter how much I try today to hate this place it is not going to affect my love for this place tomorrow.
I was at the mirror in Amber Hostel wing A to observe my bruised face. I was avoiding any human interaction. A south Indian friend came to wash his face at 3 am in the morning. Strange! He saw my face in the mirror, shot the question” Hey what happened to your face, it seems to me like a chicken pox”. Thanks God, the moron has got a name.
Next morning I was in the health centre. The doctor observed me and suggested me to go back to my home. Holy crap! I came here so far only to go back! How could I go back. I just came 10 days late. I had not registered for this semester yet, not to mention I’d have a lot of syllabus to cover. Going back was out of the question. I asked any other option. The Doctor sent me in a solitary confinement for seven days. I was isolated.
For those 7 days I was all alone in a 45x20 room with 5-6 beds all lying vacant ready for the potential candidates. Well I was the king of that small place. The king used to cry on his fate. First two days were like two millennia. I could not go outside. I had not my laptop with me. My mobile was not working. God, how do prisoners survive in this condition? I realized the sufferings Mr Papillon had to undergo when he was sent in solitary confinement for two years. After 2 days I was a bit adapted to the situation. It was then when I realized the fancy lives, the perks and powers we had in our hostels .Anyway those 7 days passed and I was back in the crowd after an 18 days delay.
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