AFTER THE RAIN

She placed her feet on the ground,
Each step giving it a colour of brown,
Her slim swarthy curves,
Camouflaged by clouds dark and gloomy
That the mother found it hard, to hold
In her bosom, the daughter's fear
Of an imminence so murky.
Along with the sun, the heat of her burden
Condensed the air, making the clouds
Further dark and gloomy.
Stifled the daughter felt,

AFTER THE RAIN

Unable to move her feet, tripped she fell.
The fall hit the clouds,
Letting a fully fledged downpour,
Easing the daughter's murkiness
And the Mother's heaviness.
Every drop relaxing her tensed muscles
And the joyous celebration of the oceans,
Flexing their wavy flesh,
with a counselling bash.
The outbreak making her goggle at
The iridescent image of her EGO,
Radiating all its strength as never before,
Curving her lips like the moon .
Isn't there a rise after a fall,
Like the rainbow after the rain?

WALK THE TALK

The soles were being put to varying degree of work; some were being strained to drip out all the sweat, a few moderately pushed and another few worn just to please the wearer that yes they were ‘walking’ too.

At one side I could hear someone talking ‘see, you please tally the balance sheet and mail it tomorrow itself’ some others talking to either family or friends straining their arm muscles, other side gossips and many texting and jay walking and quite a lot plugging their earphones to some music probably.

I was a spectator not belonging to the crowd in race course who were burning calories. I prefer to call it varying interest. I have never been successful in walking or jogging continuously over a period. I always favor burning calories by dancing to tunes…passion is the reason I cite.

I would attach another reason to it. When I go out to jog or walk, I feel lazy to do it alone and immediately carry my mobile phone along with me and have those earphones glued to my ears. I realized later that my walking, jogging, and hopping patterns were out of balance and often trying to sync with the music I hear.

Life has become too busy that we don’t seem happy with 24 hours. When I was watching the lot who were on their walks or jogs passing my view every minute, I found most of them wedged with their mobile phones. A thought to count the heads and survey the number of mobile phones in use struck my mind.

The counting was egregious and satisfactory. I counted 118 to be exact and 93 of them were with their mobile phones and most of them using it in the hierarchy of talking, texting, listening to music, and jay walking. You would have seen such persons. May be you have been this person entranced by your mobile phones in hand while walking and workouts.

Now it is no rocket science or uncommon knowledge that apart from burning those few extra pounds which bother you, exercising also relaxes your mind body and soul.

Workouts reduce stress, depression, and anxiety by reducing the electrical activity of the tensing muscles. It also helps our body to release those endorphins which are natural pain killers that our body releases to makes us feel at it ease. Although endorphins have many other functions studies prove that excess secretion of endorphins by the body is a result of increasing addiction to certain objects like mobile phones and TV. Endorphins as such get highly activated due to radio and microwaves leading to its excess release in the body indicating an addiction to your gadget- that is why you feel excessively happy spending time with those  gadgets.

But these ‘feel-so-good’ gadgets also lead to losing your balance often. A new Australian study revealed that when scientstist studied 26 healthy people and each person was asked to walk with and without mobile phones, all the participants deviated from the straight line and were slower while on their phones including listening to music.

When walking or jogging are meant to enhance our health, why use gadgets that counter balance the good effects.

The Union Health Minister, Ghulam Nabi Azad declared in London that India was the second largest mobile phone users in the world counting 900 million and still counting. It accounts to twice the users of Africa, Europe, Arab states, and Commonwealth of Independent states. And it is regrettable that people who have mobile phones have no access to proper sanitation as our  Total Sanitation Coverge is only around 40%.

This raises a question in me. Are we really health conscious? I include people who regularly exercise as well. A stage has come where we are more concerned about cell phone restricted area than open defecation and urination in surrounding.

I recollect one of my friends from Dubai telling me once about his broken Motorola smart phone. He claimed to find more time to spend for himself when there was no smart phone around him. He took time to read, pluck the strings of his idle guitar, and even a better workout throughout the week when he was back from his work place.

I have had similar experiences especially during workouts. I prefer to use loud speakers with mild volume for some relaxation music during my yoga time rather than plugging those tiny bulbs to my ears.

When we are over the phone we counter react to the actual purpose of exercise. We get stuck with the same thoughts of office, friends, fights and parties. It is no way going to relax the electrical activity of your muscles nor going to help you reduce stress and anxiety.

We strain to find some time to sweat out those bad chemicals from our body and experience the fruits of all our hard work. Let us say goodbye to our mobile phone for that one hour and instead let us “WALK THAT TALK”.

MARK-BIASED AND BOARD-BIASED ADMISSION

May, a month when the air is filled with mild aroma of Gulmohar, spreading its branches like a peacock with red feathers. It is a month when beauty lingers in the surroundings.

But that is not all about May. Tension, anxiety, and morale of students is put to test the same month, every year. Students of class X and XII await their board exam results through out the country, no matter which board they belong to.
Every state has its own syllabus unlike a centralized syllabus like CBSE or ICSE. And it also happens that a clash always exists between the state board and the Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE). The standards of CBSE syllabus being set by the National Council of Education Research and Training, is based on a concentric curriculum. Whilst State board syllabus being governed by the Department of Education under respective State Governments look forward to completion of schooling with a slightly easier syllabus to follow.

Unfortunately, as we see the trend, choice of boards seems to matter not for the standards and quality but for the result declaration and scoring issues. CBSE students of both Xth and XIIth are loosing the race for XIth and college admissions.

The bifurcation of writing school-based examination or Board-based examination for class X of CBSE has proved to be a pain in the neck. Although the CBSE had declared that there is no difference between mark sheets issued for both examinations, it had also mentioned that students who wish to leave CBSE board must take up board exams rather than school based examination.

This had paved way for the state government to add restriction to admission for class XI students who took up school based examinations and later wanted to change to state syllabus. Students of Maharashtra, Kerala, Tamil Nadu, have been suffering for admissions for past two years. Maharashtra government had relaxed the constraints in the year 2011 calling it a ‘one year exception’ admitting students who had taken up school based exam. The kerala government has shown no mercy till now.

The standard XII students loosing out on admissions in colleges has become a familiar practice now. The delay in result declaration by CBSE has literally outcast them in the race to colleges.

Where states like Kerala and Tamil Nadu had declared their results in the first week of May, CBSE is yet to declare results with tentative dates on the website.

Most of the colleges that compete to absorb high scoring students have closed down admissions for CBSE students filling the seats with state board students under all available quotas leaving one or two colleges in exception.

There is no postulated rule by the government stating that colleges should a lot a quota for CBSE students and hence it is solely under the college’s discretion to admit them.

The Tamil Nadu State Council for Higher Education has set few guidelines for college admission.

i)                To start admission process only once the original mark sheet has been issued

ii)              To give a period of 10 working days to submit the application after issuing of original mark sheet.

iii)            To complete student admissions in aided courses prior to self financing courses.

As the above norms haven’t been followed in the colleges of Tamil Nadu, CBSE students loose chance even for unaided courses.

Most admissions are done based on the printed copy of mark sheet from the internet. By then CBSE students do not get a chance to apply and they are left with a few available management quota seats for which they have to shell out a heavy price.

The desperation to fill seats of colleges by the management, not abiding by the guidelines and also not giving a chance for CBSE students to learn has made the higher educational sector a dirty playground for money. It is a scenario where monetary benefit takes a step ahead, a scenario that showcases complete discrimination against students, which will make education a rottening business than moulding future of younger generations to come. Lack of qualitative monitoring and analysis system for both result declaration and admissions across the country might soon bring about an obsession for prepossession of seta by the student community who will loose confidence in education and gain access to capitation.

This worsening condition has to be soon put under scanner by the government bringing about a systematic process for admissions in schools and colleges. Bringing policies in effect to firstly, give clarity on examinations to be undertaken, boards to be accepted, and also a quota for CBSE students. These regulations can be brought about only if the decisions are made by the centre and not leaving it to the state authorities alone. A centralized procedure for admission is to be generated which should be mandated to be followed through out the country.

Though an easy take on centralized syllabus can be put in place, it is better said than done. Bringing about same syllabus through out the country with immediate effect would prove to be a struggle for failure as students of rural areas will be largely affected considering the amenities they enjoy today. A gradual replacement process within a decade can be definitely put on place, if the rulers and police makers combat to bring an educational revolution in the country.

WILL OR BILLS

While various issues were discussed in the February session 2013 of the G-20 summit at Moscow, ‘Violence against Women’ was not left out. It was in this gathering that India was declared as the worst place for women.

Increasing rates of female foeticide, infanticide, domestic violence, sexual harassment, and other forms of gender based violence has led our country to this Hall of Shame. A place where every 25 women fall victim to crimes with at least 3 of them being raped and 12 being tortured by husbands, India her own reasons to justify such acts.

From the reports revealed by the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) crime against women have escalated from 5.9%in 2006 to 7.8% during 2006-2011. The reports exhibit a steep rise in domestic violence as well showing a leap from 8.25% in 2006 to 11.41% in 2006-2011.

In 2006, the legislation passed a bill seeking “wife-beating” and “marital rape” as criminal offenses under the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act 2005. But this step seemed of little or of no help to stabilize the devasting situation.

According to a survey conducted by Students of Yale and Australian University, the cause for violence against women has been largely due to the prevailing dowry system and long term oppression of females. Though this doesn’t explain the larger picture of cruel physical assault on women just for physical pleasure. About 45% of the crimes against women are caused by cruelty by husbands and relatives. Laws quoting dowry system as a criminal practice began in 1961. 52 years later the system prevails deep rooted in the society self explaining the effective law enforcement in the country.

At this point it should be noted that it is not just the responsibility of numerous laws passed in the legislature to protect women but also that of Police department. We expect them to guard the streets and take us to protection during a mishap or violence. Safety of women on roads is a sloppy issue as far as India is concerned. Molestation, rapes, Physical assault are fear factors that exist inborn in every female in India. The protection strength in streets and public places have been thinned down to a great extend as protection of state and national VIPs seems to be of higher priority than protection of citizens itself.

The figure released by the Bureau of Police Research and Development(BPR&D) show that the number of police personnel on duty for protection of VIPs is much more than the actual sanctioned number of personnel. The country protects 14,842 VIPs with 47,557 police personnel when the actual sanctioned number is 32, 476- a 15,081 in excess. Many of the states like Bihar, UP, MP etc have a lop-sided ratio of police personnel to common people approximately at 1:1200.

The locational difference is striking for atrocities against women calling for slums to be first position followed by the rural and urban areas. This particular fact pulls us to recognize that educational background and employment among women reduces atrocities significantly. Surveys reveal that higher education among women expands fall back options for them outside home and thus lowers domestic violence. Also high levels of female earnings are vital for lowering domestic violence against women.

To draw a conclusion, personally, I would say that role of judicial, locational difference; socio-economic factor etc becomes insignificant unless the cultural aspect of dowry and protection for women changes perception in our society. 52 years after ban of dowry, it still persists as a major social issue and laws for protecting women against suppression has also been in records since 1956. Ultimately, these laws and empowerment can get into place only if the cultural mindset is changed and awareness is created in expansion of economic opportunities, higher education, asset accumulation, and above all a mutual respect is given to women.

Well, it is not only about men folk that need change of mindset, women themselves too are responsible for their own dignity and self expression to live a life of their choice.

                                                                                                       

THE SUBWAY MAN

They held each other’s hands and walked towards Marshlane. Their hand’s weren’t strong enough to hold the other if one of them tripped or fell, still it was the strength of mutual trust they had. The temperature outside continued to drop as the day entered dusk. It was becoming pretty dark at 5.00 in the evening. The last few days of winter it was. His sensitivity towards Anne never changed. He was 67 and she was 63 but her touch was still magical and mesmerizing.

Thirty two years of marriage and they had four kids. Anne and Rizvi left uncared by their children had now learnt to support each other atleast morally if physical strength defeated them.

Rizvi  was so used to Anne’s presence beside him. She had been always there by his side. During his high profile life of a businessman, as his lady love, as a wonderful mother to himself apart from his children, as an iron pillar during his struggling days of financial loss, and even now she was there right beside him as soft as rose petals that knew only to soothe him.  

Twas an evening Rizvi thought he would dedicate to Anne. He took her for a walk to places nearby where they had met first in his mid twenties, the house they moved into as newlywed and the park she used to take her children to play.

It was getting colder and the old couple struggled their way forward now. As they neared Marshlane they found a SUBWAY outlet. Rizvi’s hands could feel only the tearing leather of his wallet and not a single metal piece struck his hand, he had no money but a small bit of paper. Both shivered in the cold. The touch again soothed him and she asked if they could go in and give a try.

The till was dropped out, bains switched off and the oven cleaned. Anne and Rizvi entered SUBWAY. It was Anne who took the initiative. She asked the man at the till if by any chance they could redeem the breakfast coupon which expired the previous month.  The man wasn’t the owner of the shop and couldn’t help but deny any kind of redeeming.  They still smiled and said “It’s okay, son”.

Prateek couldn’t  himself from stop admiring these couples standing at the till. He felt ashamed of his inability to let them redeem their outdated coupon. He saw a “in search of grief” moment in  their eyes when they exchanged glances. They held their hands again and turned to leave. Prateek stopped them before they could reach the threshold. With his charming smile he said ”how about a tea ? I need good company for my own cup of tea”. They smiled and all the three joined in for tea. Anne told Prateek in her wise and mellow tone that they were regulars to subway but unfortunately had no money that day.

Prateek bid them goodbye once they were done. He felt happy for helping them to warm themselves and for spending worthwhile time knowing worthwhile people.

The subway routine was on again. Morning times were busy. As he moved about the tables he found small cover addressed to “THE SUBWAY MAN”, a thank you note from Anne and Rizvi. He found something extra, a pound safely kept in the cover and a note that said “Thank you so much generous young man. Here we leave a pound to have one of those bottled drink on us from your store’s fridge.”

It touched his heart and kept he note carefully in his bag and punched out for a break from the store to take his drink.

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

  The needle steadily pointed at 50 kmph in the speedometer. It had been long since he drove this slow. It wasn’t the roads that stopped him from driving fast as usual, it wasn’t any fog that curtailed the visibility either, and he wanted to slow down today. He wanted to feel the subtle breeze that swept across his car, the smell of the place he drove through. He wanted to be himself today.

The car drove smoothly into the parking lot of the cottage. He didn’t need a cottage this time as he was alone, but still he booked for one. Different from the types he had stayed earlier in. Sophistication was his second nature. Comfortable living space, vehicle and gadgets defined him. For a difference he broke all his regular routine. Unlike usual this trip was planned overnight, without his caring and beautiful wife and his lovely kids. He had an urge to be alone and an unexplainable force was pulling him to this place.

  Silent Valley had been his escape spot right from the time he was 24. Each time he came the silence of the place tapped the resting inner energy of his soul. This was a place he wanted to drive to the very first time with someone unforgettable in his life. And till today he hadn’t driven to that particular road with that person and he knew he would not either. “Madhur Swaroop” he said at the reception. “Cottage number 5 Sir” said the overdressed receptionist.

“Hello, this is Sukriti here. Sorry, I am out of office. You may please call back on Monday or alternatively leave a voice mail at 09843360896”…… she finished recording her voice message for the calls she was not going to attend during her precious weekend getaway. It had been four months of tireless working and she needed this break for being able to work tirelessly for next four months. She always preferred this cottage. The rickety look of it, the cane furniture, herbal grass beds and cosy interiors made her experience the inner warmth.

“We should escape to silent valley whenever we lose our energy, be it physical or mental” she always told him and he had asked if she would go with him for a drive. She never had and she knew she never would.

Eight years of her career had been enjoyable. She loved her work, work place, colleagues and her home. It was eight years since she had heard that voice which enchanted her, dissolved her desperation and made her realize what being in love meant.

  Her relationship with Madhur was like Water elements. All hydrogen and oxygen don’t make water and once they are linked it’s almost impossible to separate them. But manier times water becomes unfit to use for the right purpose too.  A short-term relationship of 81 days it was but it left a lifetime impression in her.  Her friends found the reason ridiculous…”cultural difference”. She still smiled when they said it on her face how stupid the reason was. The understanding she and Madhur had was that they respected each other’s decision. They respected their own break-up.

  He stirred his hot chocolate and was listening to one of his favourite numbers from backstreet boys. He liked the different ambience of cottage restaurant with more of natural flavor. Sukriti had spent her three days doing things which she liked. She sat with her book and her ginger-lemon tea at the restaurant. She was reading Rabindranath Tagore’s GORA for the third time. She rediscovered the strength in her each time she read it. She was refreshed now. Taking another sip of tea she glanced around. A slip in the beat she could sense. Their eyes met and silence persisted for long. Madhur equally taken aback smiled at her first. They had been staying in the same place and same cottage.

  Conversation was becoming lighter and easier. They were getting back to the same rhythm of talking as they had eight years back. Their tables weren’t different anymore. They talked about what they did and what they plan to do. More hot chocolates, tea and juices came in. Madhur knew Sukriti never had another man in her life other than him. Not because he kept track of what she was doing, but because he understood and knew her so well.

Sukriti knew he loved his wife and kids and at the same time he always wished the best for her whether they met or not.  As the conversation unfolded, he suddenly asked her “Can we drive tomorrow to the road we always wanted to take?” She paused and smiled. She agreed to go with him.

The night was crawling, He felt. He knew he wasn’t doing anything wrong or nothing against conscience. He waited for the morning. He knew what to expect of the morning, still he went to the waiting lounge. He sat there for hardly two minutes and he walked straight to the reception. “Is there any message left for me? I am Madhur Swaroop” he said. With her trained smile the receptionist handed him a cover. He had expected this. He had two white tulip flowers in his hand with a tiny envelope. The envelope was very similar to the one he had received eight years back for his birthday. It was the same colour. He opened the message card inside. It had nothing but a smiley and a fish drawn to it. It didn’t require extra time for him to understand the message. The fish had left with all smiles to carry on with her life. THE HAPPY FISH. Madhur smiled at the fact she never changed. He carefully folded the message and slipped it into his wallet as proof of the fish being happy. He knew that the road would remain untaken forever after.

She had already pulled the top gear and covered more than 6 miles from the cottage. She pressed more on the accelerator and sped down the road with a big smile on her face.

As she drove, her lips broadened at the existence of water link between her and Madhur. Not as a couple, not as lovers, not as friends but the link of understanding between two humans. That road remained untaken by her and she knew she would not either.

THE UNDYING VIM OF TRAINS

I had developed an unusual pleasure right from age four, when I first travelled in a Train to Chennai along with my mother.  Trains were second home to my family as my grandfather was a railway official. Amma spent most of her childhood in trains and railway stations where my grandfather efficiently managed roles of a station superintend and a teacher to his kids. The station master’s room became the learning centre and sometimes playing area too. Amma, my aunt and uncle would still recollect those days and it always ended with the taste of ‘Thenga pal tea’ (tea made with coconut milk) which my grandfather got for them from railway canteen.

I wasn’t an early traveler like them and the first time I could remember getting into a train was when I was four. Amma took me along with her to Chennai. It was all excitement and amusement that I was drowned into. I still remember the way I was staring at a man pulling out the middle berth for himself. I then thought he was the strongest man I had seen in the world. I wrinkled my nose near the lavatory but was still amused to see the way it was designed, absolutely fitting the needs of an Indian. From then train journey became a regular affair. But each time I boarded a train, the vim and pleasure I felt were the same as my first journey.

I loved travelling alone in a train be it a day train or a night one. Reading a book sitting on the side lower seat with wind gushing at a high speed, the chaiwalas and snack sellers sound, and the view from the train made me feel that it was giving the same old message of life.. life is too short, nothing stays long in your life and yet they are cyclic.

I have never made an attempt to talk to any of the fellow passengers. Amma was very particular about that whenever I travel alone and neither had I felt the need to converse with anyone. But one of the trips was so different and good though everything seemed downhill before the journey started.

I was going to meet my sister who lives in Kottayam with her husband. I had booked my tickets for a Saturday at five past midnight. My aunt and brother accompanied me this time. We were too eager to meet her as soon as possible. When we reached the station I found mismatch in train number being displayed and on the ticket. Gosh!!!! One digit mistake in the train number and we had had actually booked tickets for a train scheduled at morning 5.30 the same day rather than the one we intended to travel in. It took a while to come out of the blunder we had made and decided against going back home as it would disturb people sleeping peacefully there and it was a matter of another five hours to board the train for which we had the ticket. After depositing the luggage in cloak room and a cup of tea we made ourselves comfortable in AC waiting hall at the Coimbatore junction. I was glad they had maintained it well but for the rest rooms. We left the place at 5 and boarded our train to kottayam. During the journey I and my aunt were discussing how the mistake happened, and that we ought to be careful the next time.

The next day afternoon we were set to come back to our paradise. This time my Jij and Didi cross checked the date of journey. We waved big to my sister and Jij as the train made a move and screaming BYE BYE BYE !!

It was a train to Guwahati from Thiruvananthapuram via Coimbatore and Chennai which was dirty and very poorly maintained with no water in the lavatories, stinking compartments, and unhygienic people.

I was the first to stretch my hand with the tickets to the TT. He took all the three and asked for the third one. Now how do I react when the TT has all my tickets and still demands for the third ticket? For about thirty seconds or so it was a repetition of the old tamil movie comedy of  senthil-goundamani except that it was a ticket here instead of the banana. I was furious about his behavior and so was he about mine. But how he could be furious, I thought, when he had my tickets and was still demanding for an extra ticket. Well, the TT calmed down a bit and showed me the ticket. They were two printed for a journey from Kottayam to Coimbatore and the last one had the route Coimbatore to Kottayam. Oh My GOD!! A printing error from the railway ticket counter which was left unnoticed by us till the end.

Now I stood in front of him as an offender, ticketless and to be fined for it. Rs. 400 please, he said. I hadn’t yet recovered from the unexpected and big blunder from my side. Good old TTR took pity on me and asked all three of us to move to compartment number S13 and said he would inform the checking Squad as it was partially the department’s mistake too. Relieved that I needn’t pay the fine we moved to S13 through the dirty compartments. The train carried very few females and the rest were males dressed shabby, stinking and ruffian, and ticketless. The squad had a tough time getting those ticketless passengers in order. We found a place where one lady was lying in the lap of a man. Their behavior was quite odd and was constantly chewing some brown and white substance from a packet which made us feel all the more uncomfortable.

A young boy probably aged between 14-16 years was talking loud over his mobile phone in some incomprehensible language sitting in our berth. He looked calm and the innocence of his face hadn’t worn out. He looked much different from the rest I saw in the train, better dressed, calmly seated and minding his own business. My aunt was a little anxious with the people and type of train we were travelling in. After an hour or so the boy besides us smiled at me and my brother. He asked my brother where we were going in Malayalam, his accent revealing he didn’t belong to Kerela and probably from northern side of India. They both exchanged few words and then continued with their own work.

I asked the boy where he was going. He said Kolkatta. When I told him his Malayalam was good enough he smiled broad as though he had received the biggest compliment and said he had been living in kerela for past five years. I asked where in kerela and he said he had been to most part of kerela. Replying to my questioning expression he said he worked as a labourer in construction sites all these five years. Another child labour victim, I thought. He just continued with his story, said he ran away from his house five years back. The shock very clear on my face, he said he ran away because his father used to beat him every day for no reason and one evening he got into some train from Kolkatta railway station that brought him to Kerela. For a week I roamed about and ate well with the money I had brought with me and I was also aware that I had to find work before my savings got exhausted, he said. He managed to get work in construction site and initially used to supply tea and water to labourers there. He was quite good at picking up works related to construction and soon joined the team, he continued. Didn’t you miss home? I asked. He said he didn’t miss much as he loathed his father. He had a sister younger to him too. No one could save him from his father’s cruelty and he had no choice but leave his place. I didn’t know how to react and all I asked was if he was returning home after five years. He replied with no emotions that he did go the previous year and came to know his father died the next year he left his place. His mother and sister were alone and she was marriageable age. Child marriage it struck me but did not react to it. He came back for work again and now he was going for his sister’s wedding. The sparkle in his eyes couldn’t hide his joy. I smiled at that happy face, the happiest face I could find at that moment which radiated all his love for his sister whom he was separated from for five years.  He soon opened his bag placed under his foot and removed a box from it. It was new mobile phone pack and showed it to me. With all excitement of a kid he said that it was for his sister to take it to her in-laws’ place. The happiest man handling the most precious object on earth, that is what I felt deep within when I saw him.

We were nearing Coimbatore and the squad members were forcing the fine payers to move to the next compartment. Pushkar was one among them. He took his bag and was about to move to the next coach, when I stopped him. I too took out a small box from my bag but with chocolates. I gave it to him telling it was from my side for his sister. We looked at each other for a brief second and he took it from me smiling and said thank you Chechi. 

When I got down at Coimbatore junction, the train I disliked was the one which made me feel good about the travel than other train travels till date. Before I could leave the platform I looked at the same dirty train and smiled which seemed elegant now. The vim of train journey- always undying and delightful !!