Train tales

We eyed the railroad while driving by it. We walked on the rail bridge one holiday afternoon. We always wished to take the train on it. But somehow, there was never the right opportunity. After work, it was too late to get the train that would let us enjoy our ride and the view outside. Once we even attempted it, but missed the train by few minutes. On weekends, there is no train! And then came winter. So, we were just waiting for the spring when days would start getting longer and we would maybe finish work early enough to get the train. The train from Ljubljana to Kamnik.

With the sun shining longer, that Wednesday we decided to take the much-planned train ride of ours to Kamnik. However, we were still not sure. Lately Blaž was very busy at work, and did not know if he would manage to finish early. He said he would give me a call. Now, when he did call me, I was at a late lunch with my colleagues, and did not know if we would finish before its 4. Sadly I thought, ‘Ah, we would not be able to go today also'!

But then, we did finish just in time, and at 3:55 I called Blaž saying ‘Let’s go’. A beautiful sunny afternoon it was outside and the earth bloomed in the first spring flowers. Happily and excitedly, we looked forward to our trip. As we bought the tickets and entered the platform, we had enough time to look around. A green train with slanted front was standing in the platform, the last one remaining in old color. It is one of Blaž’s favorite trains from childhood, which he loved to watch from his grandma’s window. And even though the doors were yellow and not his favorite old green, he definitely took a picture. A very good start for the afternoon dedicated to trains. A cargo train passed…

Finally our train came. We were glad that it was the one painted in old colors and not the shiny red ones full of ugly graffiti.. We were glad that it was not wrapped in some advertisement hindering the best possible view out. The train was supposed to be crowded. I was almost worrying if we would get nice window seats. Enjoying the ride and having a great view, this was the whole purpose. Therefore, when I found the train not so crowded, and we could even choose between ‘better’ window seats (the one without sun shining on my face), I relaxed and settled down. (Later though I came to know that the train was crowded!! Well it was not according to my standards!).

The signal turned green and the train started rolling. We crossed the bridge under which I pass everyday to work. Then came the interesting industrial part. It always intrigues me, the warehouses, factories, crates, loading vehicles. Looking at them from the train gives a different perspective. I waved to my old apartment building as we passed by. And soon we were crossing over the bridge. Looking down to river Sava below, I remembered our walk. It brought us to the more open parts outside the city. The setting sun gave a nice reddish hue to the fields. The fields that I always wished to look out at from a train window. Few crows were exploring the fields. We spotted a few magpies. We crossed several level crossings as the train passed by tiny villages. People were taking leisurely walks by the fields. We stopped at a small station. Two magpies were sitting on the electric wire. And we moved again. Far beyond, Blaž spotted a few deer, their white behind glowing in the sun. We reached a bigger station. Some interesting cargo train was standing. We moved on. Glorious mountains lined the horizon. And there far, we could see the Kamnik castle. We came out of a small tunnel, and there we were at Kamnik Graben, the last station in Kamnik town.

It was a tiny station and soon the track ended. The old track had bent to some unknown direction and we decided to follow it. As we took the turn, unexpectedly we came to the end. The track used to go inside some factory. Trucks carry the goods now, and the door for the train is closed. We peeped through the gate into the deserted end, and then followed back the rusty rail tracks.

With 45 minutes before our train back to Ljubljana, we decided to walk through the city to two stations ahead. From the train we could only see the churches and few old villas; however, those were left for some other day to be explored. In the center of the town, on a rock is the old ‘mali grad’ (little caslte) with a guard tower and chapels. We decided to go to it quickly for a view. In the lights of the setting sun, the orange tiled roofs looked charming. Old houses lined the narrow streets creating an interesting maze. Promising to ourselves that soon we should return to the city and explore its old history, we hurried back to the train station.

Interesting cargo train cars engaged our attention as we waited for the train. And then came our red train (this time unfortunately covered with graffiti). I was not expecting the journey back to be too eventful. It was already dark allowing little to be visible outside. Yet, I pressed my nose against the window glass to get a last glimpse of the fading outline of Triglav. As I was watching the passing lights of isolated houses, the ticket checker came. Blaž had heard that sometimes in passenger trains one can get in the engine. There began the excitement as we heard a yes to our request!

Can we just knock and go inside the engine? We were not sure. Soon came a station. We knocked and went in. And there opened this new world in front of our eyes. Despite the surprised driver asking how come a girl be also interested in technicalities of a train engine, I was genuinely happy, excited and interested. I had never been before in a train engine/control room. It was just so interesting and intriguing. Those several knobs and handles of different sizes and shapes slowly made sense as he explained them. The gear, the gas, what should be the starting gear, how it is increased, what is pressed every few seconds to let know that the driver is alert, what button must be pressed to confirm that a signal was noticed.. I was impressed. It is definitely a hard job to follow the rulebook. And it must be followed. He noticed the sign informing an approaching crossing. The horn blew before the crossing. The train passed another sign notifying a coming station. He stopped the train. Some people departed, a few boarded. The buttons were pressed and levers were moved according to the regulation. Off again the train rolled. And all the while we were looking intently to the control and ahead.

The train moved into Ljubljana station bringing an end to our eventful journey. However, the excitement was not yet over. Even it almost took a leap. There on the platform was standing the Alpine Convention locomotive (class 541 locomotive, SZ 541-001 )!! It is hard to see a locomotive standing like that, and that too the rare Alpine Convention. We barely got time to thank the driver for his friendly explanations and allowing us to have the ride in the engine. We hurried down to the locomotive. It was already dark, but gladly the locomotive stood close to some lights. And of course Blaž had to take pictures. I have rarely seen this locomotive, and mostly could get a glimpse as it hurried by. So, I was simply so happy to see it like that from close. Excited I was to observe it for some time as Blaž was busy with his camera. I find this locomotive really beautiful and interesting. And we were there satisfying our curiosity and excitement until it left the platform again.. Wow! Alpine Convention! For several of minutes! And just in front of us!!

Taking a few pictures of another train in old paints, and most importantly without graffiti, we headed back to home..

A beautiful train ride.. A ride back in the train engine, watching its control.. Alpine Convention.. A day of train it was... An exciting and interesting day of trains… A rare and happy day of trains..

A letter from Nisha

It was a mentally exhaustive day yesterday. There are reasons that have kept me tensed and nervous recently. Although, I really do not need reasons to be tensed about. Anyway, it was one of those days when I feel like just running away somewhere from everything and get some peace. And then I just come back home at the end of the day.

When I reached home after work and grocery, I was not in mood of doing anything. Nothing interested and excited me; I just wished the time to pass. Like every day, I checked the postbox out of habit and not really expecting any mail. Therefore, what a pleasant surprise it was when I found a mail waiting for me! And it was not some boring statement, it was a letter. A letter from Nisha!

I love handwritten letters. And saying that a real letter in my postbox makes me really happy says about my adoration for snail mails. I dropped my bag on the chair. And before I even took of the winter coat or the shoes, I had to open the envelope and enjoy its contents. It was a small letter from my little girl Nisha.

In a childish hand, she wrote her first letter for me. She will be promoted to fifth standard soon. Quite a big girl she is! Her favorite color she says is pink and she loves playing kitchen. Girls will be girls always. I remember playing with my dolls and my play-kitchen when I was her age. The whole afternoon after school would find me busy handing my little ‘home’. I remember how I love, okay I still love, every shades of pinks, reds and other similar bright hues. Her favorite season is rainy season. As I read her words, it also echoed my laughter while getting drenched in rain. She loves chocolates and ice-cream like everyone. She loves studying Bengali in school. I wonder which books she reads. I read, she likes to watch cartoons, I wonder which ones. Her small likings and little dreams. As the letter was talking to me, I could imagine her bright eyes and smile. I imagined her as the little girls fluttering around, chirping along. It was such a delight.

I looked at the little picture she had drawn for me. A little hut with a tree on the field, a lake with a boat tied on the edge, a rising sun. The picture reminded me of the hundreds of the same picture I had drawn in my notebooks. The same curve of the earth as the lake starts. The same haphazard movements of the color pencil to fill the shapes.

It is not only getting a letter from my girl, it is also going back to my childhood. It is realizing how every child whispers the same wishes. Nisha is not much different than I was 15 years ago. She loves eating everything sweet. She loves to play, to be carefree and get wet in rain. Everything little and bright attracts her. Her role model is people she sees around her, and she wishes to be like them, a teacher. Reading the letter left me with such a sense of happiness, fulfillment, bliss…

I was entering my home with a not so perfect mood. And the letter just made me smile…
A little letter can with it bring such great and pure delight, contentment..

The letter was also about a dream..


I read the letter already tens of times. It was even in my bag to work today!

Instrument?

So many instruments and machines surround us that more than often we fail to even realize this fact or recognize the things as a ‘machines’ or ‘instruments’. They are an important and inseparable part of our life. We think of the instruments similarly as maybe about limbs or sense organs. Rather, we never consciously think of it anymore. Instruments have so well incorporated in our lifestyle that now they almost define life. Well, I am myself surrounded by them always, and cannot imagine my life before the instruments and machines. They are an essential part of me. Of us. Debating about its influence is one side of the coin, enjoying it is the other. And we just love dealing with the luxury side of the coin. But sometimes it is funny to realize that the thing I am using every day, that is such an essential part of my life, is a machine, just another non-living instrument!!

We had a group meeting in the lab yesterday. Besides things, we also discussed about the yearly lab report that has to be written for the annual book. The institute this time made some minor changes in the format and we talked about those. It was required that each lab submits 3-4 pictures beside the group photo. Now ‘picture’ was the word mentioned which is clearly different from ‘figures’. Generally, some figures and schemes representative of the work published by the lab are given along with these kinds of reports. However, picture is something completely different. Maybe it was a mistake or the institute meant to have pictures of the lab instruments, people working with the instruments etc.. We just decided to clear it with the office.

And then we were having a little laugh about what pictures we can give if the lab really needs to give some ‘pictures’. We do not have fancy (or not fancy) instruments. We are a Chemometrics lab. We work on computers and have only programs and softwares. But nothing is as such tangible besides the computers. And computers are not instruments! And pictures working on the computers are not ‘cool’ enough. Without any instrument in lab, we had no picture that will show us doing some high-end research!

And it is then amidst all the fun I realized that the computer I use every day is not an instrument to me. It is a machine in all sense of the term. And yet, I do not really realize it to be so. Spending almost all my waking hours in front of my computer or laptop, they are a part of me. However unattached this part is from the physical me; it is still a part that I care about. And we human beings are not yet accustomed with the idea of having any fond association with something that is just a non-living machine. Therefore, we subconsciously just cease to think it to be one. It is a machine, true, but just in the book. For me it has a name. It is my computer!

They are.. a computer, a laptop, a mobile phone, a pen, a light, a bus, a oven, a …. I use them every day. Yes, a surgical instrument, a NMR system, a robot, a rocket, a screwdriver and things with which I cannot really associate myself, these are all instruments and fancy machines. However, my computer definitely is not one. This is what my mind says.

If I have to casually list all the machines around me, I will definitely not count my computer, or my mobile phone, or my ……. Unless I really think and go with the definition.

Cricket and India

I never thought cricket would ever have any place in my fond memories. I am one of those rare Indian youths for whom cricket is not so important. Okay, I do know enough to understand a match. When I was little, I used to follow cricket like all other cricket fans of our age. And then I grew older and grew out of it. I rarely enjoy a match and never care to watch one unless maybe India is playing World Cup final. I do not know the name of half of our players. I do not keep track of important tournaments going on. Maybe it is too long a game for me to watch and enjoy. But then, I also do not take any interest in that fast 20-20 format. Well I guess I am just not interested, that is simply it.

So, why now did I feel the urge to write about it? Well, I just happened to watch half of the latest India-England World Cup match and realized something. I may not care about cricket much and always wonder how a whole nation can be so crazy over a game, but I enjoy the crowd, the craziness, and the ‘cricket fever’. And now that I am far from it, I do miss it. Oh, on the side-note, the match was fun and interesting.

My earliest memory of cricket. A crowded drawing room when we used to live in a joint family, couches full and people sitting on small stools or on a mat on the floor. All eyes glued on the television. ‘Six’, ‘Yaaa’, ‘Out’, ‘What a shot’, ‘Arey yaar, get a spinner’ were few of the words that would fill the room in loud screams, and often would also come as screams from the neighbors. Excitement and tension filled the air. During any important game, people would leave work early to go home and catch the match. Those who would stay would crowd around the TV in the recreation room of the office. Even the display televisions in showrooms would have cricket on and a crowd of passersby outside who stopped to catch a glimpse of the score. Those were the days of pocket transistors held close to the ears to listen to the live commentary on the way home. Mobile phones replaced the transistors. Nonetheless, the question one asks his stranger co-traveler remains same until date, ‘Dada, score kato holo?’ (Brother, what is the score?). And you go to anywhere in India now, you will find the exact same picture..

For these days, strangers become friends and engage themselves in heated discussions. The newspaper is flooded with cricket news and expert comments. Common public give their ‘expert comments’ in a way that makes me think that given a bat or ball, they would make India win for sure! Everywhere it is then just cricket and cricket. The only program on TV is then cricket. When the match is over, it is time for highlights, replays, expert opinions. And of course mothers always had the complain that the important tournaments were always around the school exam times. Well, I guess they do not have this complain anymore. Now cricket is all around the year. And when it is not, the children are playing it with the aspiration to be the next Sachin Tendulkar.

I do not exactly know how or why, but this cricket fever worn off me as I grew up. I stopped watching it and taking any interest in it. However, I enjoyed my brother’s loud live commentaries, cheers, and annoyance during every match of importance (or not). It somehow brought a life and excitement in the home. It was fun. It was the ‘cricket festival’! Maybe I would drop in the room to ask the score sometimes or watch an over. But then, that would be it. In college also it was the same. The girls would get permission to watch matches late in night in the ground floor hall. Their screams would reach up in the rooms. The college inter-departmental cricket match would be one of the most important events of the year. But among all these, I just always failed to understand the craze.

And now I have escaped all of it and am here in a non-cricket country. Even Blaz often keeps track of the IPL when it is going on, but not me. The only time I read anything about cricket is when it manages to grab the headline of the newspaper. I know that the World Cup is going on now, that too in the Sub-continent. But, that is about all the knowledge I have in cricket current affairs.

Last Sunday I called my brother in the afternoon. He was in the hostel common room watching TV and came out to receive the call. All the screaming and excited exclamations that formed the background noise told me that some important India match is going on. India-England, my brother informed, Sachin did an awesome century and now the second innings just started. So, we were talking and cricket was in the background. Only from time to time bhai would say ‘Oh no, another four, what are the bowlers and fielders doing!!!’. India was playing badly and the background enthusiasm was slowly diminishing. And then suddenly there was a loud scream of excitement. Bhai exclained, ‘It must be an OUT, or why would anyone scream!!?’, ‘Who was it??’, ‘At last one wicket’.. All these comments somehow intrigued me. I searched for a website that was live streaming the match and started watching.

Then long after we finished talking, I found myself still watching the match. Even Blaž joined me towards the end. I watched the rest of the match (with quite a few interruptions in the streaming)!! Oh, it made me excited. The crowd in the stadium, the screams, the cheers, the flags, the painted faces, the crazy waving and dancing when India played good, or when one realized that he was the target of the TV camera, the complete atmosphere, and tension of the match. It was all so awesome!!

I may not care about cricket, but I love the ‘cricket fever’ in India. I miss India during World Cup cricket! I miss bhai screaming at the TV in our drawing room and banging the table. I miss all the excitement people show. I miss all the heated discussion around me, and expert comments. How much I get tired of it being the ‘only event’, I do miss all the craziness.

I do not much care who wins the tournament. Of course, India winning it would be best, and the debate if that is possible I leave to others. But I do miss the cricket-crazy Indian crowd. I do miss the Indian cricket fever. I do miss being among the madness of celebrating one of the biggest Indian festival....‘Cricket’...


Indiaaaa.. Indiaa