It was a college trip to goa. A 2 days long journey by train. All bucked up, exited. We passed from Rajasthan, M.P., Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh and finally landed up in Goa. My phone rang, “Papa calling”, I ran to the end of the bogey to receive the call, but to no result. Obscure network connection, for we were passing through a Goddamn village. I tried calling him again, still not to much benefit. A friend handed over me the phone, “Your father is on the line”. I grabbed the phone hastily. “Papa, kaise hoo?” It has been a day since we talked and my father has an irritating habit of calling me time and again and enquiring “Kahan pahunche” Even when we are in the same city, I am never home. Thanks to the miles away college I had chosen so happily then, most of the time is spend travelling or shopping or roaming or being at a friend’s house or at my beloved nani’s place. My father longs to see my face, talk nonchalantly, how he is planning to leave the monotonous work and aim for being the lead singer in bollywood. Yes, a dreamer he is. Here I play the role of the counselor. I tell him, he is over the age, how he should concentrate on what he is doing and he sincerely scoffs that off with the remark “Dil se to hum jawaan hai”. I scold him, I adore him and still deep in the heart I wish he is able to pursue his long lost dream. A dream, which due to various obligations he couldn’t pursue. I look out, to the long green luscious farms, there is a single hut standing in the vast land stretching till infinity, marked by mountains. The train slows down, there is a station ahead. A station made from the raw bricks. The only establishment in the virgin village. A village far away from the nuances of the humans. I am propelled to get down, to run away among the farms and hid myself among those bushes. I want to experience the tranquility the people over here experience. I want to live in that make-shift hut and feel the bliss with the bare minimums. I want to run away from the responsibilities I am surrounded with. I want to break myself open from the competitions I have indulged myself in. Those pings of jealousy, that unclaimed yet conspicuous war, war among friends. I wish to detach myself. Then the laughter of our gang fell upon my ears. “Stuti! Stuti! Aajaa, we are starting with a new game”. Bluff! How ironical, I wished to run away from the same, from this dishonesty. The phone rings again. “Hanji Masi….Haan we will reach by tomorrow”. I giggle, she tells me to get something nice for her. “Definitely” I revert back. Hush! How I wish there was no one I was accountable to. The train has picked up pace, we are passing a tunnel. The feeling resurfaces again. I wish to live in the darkness for once or the light, experience the real light. I am shaken from the flow of my own thoughts. “Tera trance khatam ho gya ho to aaja, cards bat chuke hai”. With that I head back to play bluff.
