Note : Railway Diaries follows the Number on the Post Title
When I thought of writing this post, the first thing that struck my mind was my Father’s saying “change of work is called leisure” and he always intended and many a times scolded me for sleeping a lot during my school and college days. Now I realize how true that was and later on I came up with my saying “what will I do in my coffin”? And I thought of leaving behind a history that I would love to read in my old age-which I doubt will never come.
Most of my leisure at Guntakal was spent playing caroms and watching movies in the re-creation room at the quarters. I would spend every evening drawing the engine parts and practicing engineering scripts on my fair copy of the notes. All my sleep started to fade away here and in the night I would sit outside in the balcony smoking, reading poems from “The Golden Treasury” and sometimes writing letters to Sridhar, Naveen and Arathi or to my Sister.
Initial days at Moulali was spent exploring the roads around the ZTC.Then began the worst hobby where I would spend all night writing thoughts in my diary and I would travel all over the world including Christ School, Christ College, MICO Vocational Centre, Belgaum and all the faces that have crossed my life and all the faded memories were brought back to life and I was playing the same old games in my mind. (I will post all the thoughts I have written one day and would get some brains going dead and hopefully save my own as they mean a lot to me)
Letters from Sridhar Machani and my Sister deserves a special place on this post. The only thing that I have ever waited for in my life -Letters from my friend and Sister which was a solace and on which they would give all the updates of Bangalore and family. In the world of e-mails where reply becomes such a tedious task, Sridhar would take all his time to reply to every thing that I wrote on the letter (If he permits I can publish some of them) it’s the scent of the ink, the words stressed which would make the ink blot and those smiley and symbols and the signature on a letter which would convey a lot more than the deepest thoughts on an e-mail.
Whenever I was in a pensive mood I would sit alone with a burning stick in my hand and compose poems or make a pencil sketch or think about Shilpa-who still smiles and dances in the corner of my brain.
Thus I enjoyed whatever I was doing wherever I went and I would do those things again and again as it was pleasant at that time and writing this post brings a pleasant fragrance of life’s wonderful moments spent in a crowd - yet alone.
Most of my leisure at Guntakal was spent playing caroms and watching movies in the re-creation room at the quarters. I would spend every evening drawing the engine parts and practicing engineering scripts on my fair copy of the notes. All my sleep started to fade away here and in the night I would sit outside in the balcony smoking, reading poems from “The Golden Treasury” and sometimes writing letters to Sridhar, Naveen and Arathi or to my Sister.
Initial days at Moulali was spent exploring the roads around the ZTC.Then began the worst hobby where I would spend all night writing thoughts in my diary and I would travel all over the world including Christ School, Christ College, MICO Vocational Centre, Belgaum and all the faces that have crossed my life and all the faded memories were brought back to life and I was playing the same old games in my mind. (I will post all the thoughts I have written one day and would get some brains going dead and hopefully save my own as they mean a lot to me)
Letters from Sridhar Machani and my Sister deserves a special place on this post. The only thing that I have ever waited for in my life -Letters from my friend and Sister which was a solace and on which they would give all the updates of Bangalore and family. In the world of e-mails where reply becomes such a tedious task, Sridhar would take all his time to reply to every thing that I wrote on the letter (If he permits I can publish some of them) it’s the scent of the ink, the words stressed which would make the ink blot and those smiley and symbols and the signature on a letter which would convey a lot more than the deepest thoughts on an e-mail.
Whenever I was in a pensive mood I would sit alone with a burning stick in my hand and compose poems or make a pencil sketch or think about Shilpa-who still smiles and dances in the corner of my brain.
Thus I enjoyed whatever I was doing wherever I went and I would do those things again and again as it was pleasant at that time and writing this post brings a pleasant fragrance of life’s wonderful moments spent in a crowd - yet alone.
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