What's my next adventure?

"Imagine yourself many years from today. Will you look at your life with even a little dismay?" 
- Michelle C. Ustaszeski

And that's exactly what I am trying to do - imagining myself many years from now... as a sexagenarian relaxing with a book (while Mozart composes brilliant pieces exclusively for me in the background) in a rocking chair in front of the fireplace in my very own study room with a shawl draped on my frail shoulders. Picture Perfect! That got me thinking - about quite a few things actually.

So what sort of woman am I? I still wander aimlessly, wondering aloud, in search of the right words to describe myself. With two love affairs, two marriages, a divorce, a daughter, and six jobs to my credit what's it that's driving me to push all the limits of a cocooned life I had experienced in the first 22 years of my life?

Despite the mental conditioning, the orthodox upbringing, the traditional environment in and around home, I guess I had secretly nurtured a spirit of adventure, confidence, individuality, hotheadedness, arrogance, ego, obstinacy, recklessness, pride, restlessness, and independence... without which I don't think I'd be where I'm today. Simply following my heart everywhere, comfortably making myself home in a nowhere land, picturing myself  as a senior citizen, and looking forward to my next adventure.

If it weren't for my rebellious nature combined with an adventurous attitude, I wouldn't have jumped headlong into another relationship/marriage after miserably failing the first time. Probably I wouldn't have thought of packing my bags without a second thought and moving to the countryside to try out yet another adventurous lifestyle - hitherto unknown to me. But... as always, I just followed my heart - without letting my head take control of my wants and dreams.

Never once did it occur to me that I'll be many many miles away - far from my hometown, my lovely bunch of friends, family, well-wishers, supporters, sympathizers, loved ones... in fact, all those who matter to me, and who believe I'm important to them! This isn't the first time that I'd recklessly embarked on a new journey - to live absolutely alone, except for a six-year-old chatter box for company - amid strangers under strangest circumstances.

If it weren't for my stupid sense of superiority, super confidence and trust in my own ability, I wouldn't have pushed the limits of my smooth-sailing life-boat, and sailed offshore! Am I regretting any of these happenings? Nope. Not at all. Quite the contrary actually. I'm enjoying every bit of it as I slowly learn to live each day. "If you don't think everyday is a great day, try going without one," says Jim Evans. How very true indeed! And I have this philosophy in life: everything I do, I do it for myself, for fun, for happiness, for experience - and in the process I learn some, I gain some, I lose some and I keep going. Just keep going, just keep going, just keep going...

Oh yes, I did hear a lot about patience being a virtue, patience paying off in the end, patience this patience that... like I care! Sincerely speaking, I've no patience. Absolutely none! All I knew in these 36 years of my life are impatience, restlessness, and impulsiveness. And I'm happy the way I am because it keeps me going - despite the hurt, the loss, the wound, the ego, the everything. True guys, I love myself and my attitude, and my sense of adventure. Because underneath all the layers of friendliness, sensitiveness, kindness, gentleness and all the other 'ness's, I'm as strong, as arrogant and as adamant as any princess of repute. :P 

So..., my ego prompts me every now and then, what's on your list next? Okay you tell me, what next?

Jaago re... you say! Yes, but how?

I was recently watching the Jaago Re-Tata Tea ad about 'donation' for a college seat and the ensuing half-a-minute mini-lecture on corruption in the education system. It reminded me of this little (okay, not-so-little) episode that happened a few months ago on board the Prashanti Express during my trip to Bangalore for a close friend's wedding.

Our tickets got confirmed only in the last minute despite booking it two days in advance (that too in Tatkal). And when we got into the train it was so full it wasn't funny. Luggage was stuffed under all the three berths with not so much as an inch of space for our really cutesy small single suitcase. But we did manage to magically tuck it in. After breakfast, I had calmed down enough from the fretting-fuming-frustration, and  settled to enjoy the coolness of the AC coach while taking note of my surroundings and co-passengers.

A middle-aged couple, a young married girl, another young guy, besides a bunch of young Wipro employees who were returning to Bangalore from their conference-cum-fun trip at Bhubaneswar, were to keep us company for the next 26 hours. Fine! But what wasn't fine was the way 12 people (four of whom had Sleeper Class tickets) were seated in a eight-seater coupe! The TC didn't seem to have a problem with that! So far so good!

Now starts our real (read juicy and gossipy) story... Once upon a time there lived a queen bee who wanted to travel to Bangalore... To cut a very long story short, let me begin with my reaction and then proceed further. I was very impressed initially with the bee and her battalion, and the bubbly atmosphere in the compartment. But let me admit that I was totally shocked when I realized that the queen bee (or should we call her 'Her Royal Highness' for the treatment she had received through the journey), who made herself extremely comfortable in cool red-and-black striped pyjamas and off-white kurta, doesn't even have a confirmed ticket?

So who is this HRH? Called Naksha, this bubbly employee of Wipro seemed to be the blue-eyed daughter/daughter-in-law of a well-connected dad, and/or dad's best friend-cum-future father-in-law. It all looked quite mysterious as I tried to figure out which among the two big guys is a top cop. Of course, I couldn't solve the mystery to this date.

Anyway... thanks to madame Naksha, our compartment was the most sought-after at every station (big and small) that the train stopped. At every halt, two cops in mufti would get in, ask for madam-of-seat-number-so-and-so, salute HRH, pass her packets of chips, biscuits, bottles of Coke/Sprite/ Fanta... you name it! It was fun to watch for an hour or two as our compartment was getting the attention of the entire Railway Police Force, the TC, the Station Master and every Tom, Dick and Harry.

But as evening gave way to night, I started getting irritated with the people swarming in and out of the coupe. It was peak summer and the AC in the compartment was not sufficient with so many of HRH's personal attendants, friends-cum-colleagues and well-wishers visiting her at regular intervals. The TC, unfortunately, couldn't confirm her RAC ticket till late in the night, and post 10 p.m. the visitors at the station kept waking us up not knowing madam's new berth number.

Gawd! I would have died of shame for putting so many people through hours of inconvenience and torture. But HRH Naksha was oblivious to all this as she was not only enjoying the attention but also looked like this treatment is not really new to her. And all this made me wonder... if this is not corruption at its most base level, then what is! I was feeling worse thinking about all the time, money and energy of the RPF jawans that was spent on pleasing/impressing one woman - all for the sake of promotion, recognition or whatever favor they're after.

I agree there is no happy ending to this story - but that is purely because the moral of my story is bitterly clear: As long as there are Nakshas in this world, there's bound to be corruption.

So let's just go with the slogan - 'Long live HRH, and long live corruption'!