The entire gang rushed ahead dragging along their heavy cases, the innumerable bags, overflowing with plans and dreams of a great holiday…a journey by train.
The kids were so excited , it was so contagious. They had never been on a train like this before. It was always air conditioned comforts where there was so much privacy, but a lot less fun. You could look out of the window, but you could not feel the whoosh of the wind, the lingering fragrance of smoke. Now they could hear the many vendors with their assorted wares “chai, kaapi, baLeen , biskit”. This time their parents had made sure the kids traveled and experienced the journey firsthand.
After sleeping through the night on flat plastic beds, high in the carriage, ., talking to their friends through the jaali work on top ,in hushed voices, there could be nothing , that could be more fun
But now there was a silence in the compartment. The journey was stretching and no one knew why. That’s when they heard it.., a soft strumming, and that too a guitar!! Wow!!
“There is going to be some singing.”
The tempo picked up. The voices could be heard all over. The small feet dangling from above the heads of the adults suddenly went still and disappeared, only to appear a few seconds later, down, next to them. It was fun. “Uncle, please play “Dardedisco”, "no, lets play, Bhool Bhulaiyya" said another in his singsong tone…..a small plate was fished out from the bags around them, and then the drummer boy took over…..so the band was getting complete, and so were the sounds. ‘Perfectly imperfect’, that was how it sounded, but the energy, the bliss, the fun was being carried over and through their seats.
The little travelers, thought that their adult companions were fun, they were after all singing like them. …the sounds picked up, now it was the “mehbooba” song, then the famous 'dum maro dum', and the songs kept coming…
“ Saarr, can I please join you??. C,mon, start with the gitarr.. Can u play drums for this Saaar?? “ Sheets of papers in hand, a fellow traveler took the only little available space on the lower berth. Lyrics, neatly inked into them, he started singing a song.
Looked around to see 16 dumbstruck faces small and big. They had never seen lyric sheets nor did they want to. And now he wanted to sing a song that they never knew, he goaded them on…the voices became softer, smaller. The little feet went back to the upper berth. The faces went and stuck their noses against the window glass….only the shocked adults were playing host to him…
The tempo was broken, and the enthusiasm never returned…
“ R, the lil one wants to go the loo, can you please take him??”
So out went the drummer, and similarly the guitarist…and slowly the very disappointed, singing traveler thanked the gang and left to go to his seat…
The prompt for Sunday scribblings, got me to post this
The kids were so excited , it was so contagious. They had never been on a train like this before. It was always air conditioned comforts where there was so much privacy, but a lot less fun. You could look out of the window, but you could not feel the whoosh of the wind, the lingering fragrance of smoke. Now they could hear the many vendors with their assorted wares “chai, kaapi, baLeen , biskit”. This time their parents had made sure the kids traveled and experienced the journey firsthand.
After sleeping through the night on flat plastic beds, high in the carriage, ., talking to their friends through the jaali work on top ,in hushed voices, there could be nothing , that could be more funBut now there was a silence in the compartment. The journey was stretching and no one knew why. That’s when they heard it.., a soft strumming, and that too a guitar!! Wow!!
“There is going to be some singing.”
The tempo picked up. The voices could be heard all over. The small feet dangling from above the heads of the adults suddenly went still and disappeared, only to appear a few seconds later, down, next to them. It was fun. “Uncle, please play “Dardedisco”, "no, lets play, Bhool Bhulaiyya" said another in his singsong tone…..a small plate was fished out from the bags around them, and then the drummer boy took over…..so the band was getting complete, and so were the sounds. ‘Perfectly imperfect’, that was how it sounded, but the energy, the bliss, the fun was being carried over and through their seats.
The little travelers, thought that their adult companions were fun, they were after all singing like them. …the sounds picked up, now it was the “mehbooba” song, then the famous 'dum maro dum', and the songs kept coming…
“ Saarr, can I please join you??. C,mon, start with the gitarr.. Can u play drums for this Saaar?? “ Sheets of papers in hand, a fellow traveler took the only little available space on the lower berth. Lyrics, neatly inked into them, he started singing a song.
Looked around to see 16 dumbstruck faces small and big. They had never seen lyric sheets nor did they want to. And now he wanted to sing a song that they never knew, he goaded them on…the voices became softer, smaller. The little feet went back to the upper berth. The faces went and stuck their noses against the window glass….only the shocked adults were playing host to him…
The tempo was broken, and the enthusiasm never returned…
“ R, the lil one wants to go the loo, can you please take him??”
So out went the drummer, and similarly the guitarist…and slowly the very disappointed, singing traveler thanked the gang and left to go to his seat…
The prompt for Sunday scribblings, got me to post this
