shubhiloves2write wrote:
I am not sure what the exact temperature was, but I’m sure it was something above forty degree Celsius. It was enough to extract every ounce of energy out of me, and leave me exhausted. The sun’s hot rays hit me hard on the face, and its vivid light shone in my eyes, making me blink time and time again. I put my tanned hand in front of my eyes to block out the ray's path, but they were able to find their way along the crevices my two fingers formed. It was not until later that I realized where the light was entering from, direct into my eyes.
I didn’t want to close the window as I was really excited to see the beautiful mustard fields of Haryana*. The yellow flowers fluttering in the hot, serene breeze was were insted of was. definitely a sight I wasn’t ready to miss. The train was all blue, from the exterior to the interior, but different shades of blue. The body of it navy blue, the upholstery a bit lighter shade and the walls a light blue. I might be having blue-i-ongis. I looked at the seats next to me for the first time carefully; realizing, that I was the only one in the whole compartment, and no one had yet come to give me company. That wouldn’t have happened had I not missed the college bus going to the village two days ago.
The first paragraph didn't really interest me. Yes, it was a good description, but I didn't really care if I read more or not. The second paragraph did the opposite. I wanted to read more. I guess I am rambling, but I wanted to tell you I REALLY liked the second paragraph.
I had heard my calling in the medicine field and henceforth was being trained to become a doctor, the visible god for humans. We, the third year students, were visiting Gijjarod(a village) in Haryana to provide free medical facilities for a week, but I had missed the bus, all thanks to my sleeping pills. Whenever I'm really excited about something I cannot sleep, and so I have to use sleeping pills; but, this is the only time I couldn't get up in the morning. Therefore I was here, sitting in this train, with damp smell all around, blocking my nostrils.You might want to say: blocking my nostrils from the damp smell. I think it sounds better that way. I also wanted to hear more about the damp smell for some reson, but that could just be me. There was no reservation in the A/C class so I had to take the tickets for this lower class place. Anything to become a doctor, man! I don't see why the word "man" is here.
I took out my phone from the yellow handbag my elder sister had let me borrow. My cute little Corby Pro was a gift from my stinking rich parents. No offence! They wanted me to do MBA and handle their handloom business, where I could play with fabrics, but I preferred playing with blood instead. I searched for Niharika’s number until I found it. I pressed the tiny green button on the left and held the mobile close to my ears. After what seemed like eternity, she picked up her nineteenth century mobile phone.
“Hey Ananya, where are you?” Her ever-excited voice rang in my ears.
“I’m stuck in this eighteenth century train, man.” I curled up my lips in disgust and heard her giggle. “What are you guys up to?”
”Nothing much, just checking on these urchins. They are filthy, really. All of them are in real need of a bath. Thinking of leaving my perfumes for them! Missing you,” she said.
“That’s gross and rude!” I exclaimed.
“What? Missing you?” She was stunned at my response.
“No, silly. Calling them urchins and filth! That really should not be the spirit of doctors. Do you know we would be taking a vow after two years for humanity? Be a human at least,” I barked at her. I heard her take a deep breath.
“When
will you be here?” She asked me, rather bored.
“Whenever this rust starts moving,” I replied sourly.
“Catch you then,” she said. After she disconnected the line I was once again alone in the company of foul smell. Outside the train was utter chaos, with people running like maniacs to catch their trains, coolies** dressed in dirty red shirts, holding on to luggage twice their weight. There was a bookstall right in front of my eyes which hadn’t caught my sight until now. I felt a sudden increase in the rate of my heartbeat by looking at the books, neatly piled on the shelves and a dark-skinned man standing on the opposite side of the stall, selling the best thing one could ever dream of. I got up from my seat and rushed outside to buy a decent novel which could held might be better here. That is just my opinion. promise of keeping me company throughout the entire two hour long journey. I am starting to get to know your character, and I like her!
Once outside the train, I felt a sudden blanket of hot waves gripping me and making the hairs on my skin stand up. I rolled up the sleeves of my kurti*** and then continued walking towards the bookstall. Normally, I didn’t wear Indian clothes but when visiting a village, you should always wear decent clothes and should avoid attracting attention, especially when the village is in India. How can one feel comfortable when men's eyes are scrutinizing you body, eying you as if you're their property? I hate it then You should take out this word so I decided to cover up myself. The bookstall man smiled at me, and I looked down to see all of his books. There were Champaks, Tell Me Why, and Femina but not a single good English novel. The only novels in sight were the low-grade Hindi novels. I scrunched my eyes shut for a second. “Do you have an English novel or a better Hindi novel?” I asked the man and he nodded, to my relief. He bent down and then savaged in the bundle kept on the floor. After five minutes, he was up with a novel in his hand, a perfect Mills n’ Boons edition. I smiled as I knew there and then that I was not going to be alone during this trip.
**********************************************
I heard an engine’s sound somewhere as I flipped through the pages of Femina I had bought along with MnB novel. My train still had not started moving and I felt that I would be celebrating my sixtieth birthday here only. There was this sound of the main door opening, and in entered a newly-wed couple. I could say so because the girl (she was barely looking twenty) was wearing the red and white bangles which new brides wear and a manglasutra**** Here there should be a comma. You could make it two sentences. You could drop the “and” and use a semicolon. I don't care just put some punctuation. and something about the boy made me feel that he was the husband. The boy, who looked same age as her, was holding an attaché and the girl had a bag in her hands along with the purse which hung from her shoulders. They walked down towards the seat opposite me, out of breath they looked at the seat number, and when they were sure that it was their seat, they sat down. The boy kept the attaché down and the girl kept the bag next to her. She smiled and so did her husband, but both the smiles were weak and nervous.
The girl was fair and very pretty. She looked just like a doll, so white and delicate, dressed up in a dark blue suit. She had long, black eyelashes forming a wave and her red bindi***** stuck to her forehead perfectly. The husband was not bad looking either, in fact he was handsome. He wore a black T-shirt and loose grey jeans. The drops of sweat poured down their face, straight on to their clothes. The boy took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off as his wife adored him.
“Hi, I am Ananya.” I introduced myself to them and passed a grin.
“My name’s Kritika and he’s my husband Lakshya.” She said politely.
“You two alone?” I asked, out of curiosity.
“Yes we are going back to Mumbai. This train goes till Delhi from where we’ll board our flight,” she whispered somewhat secretly which made me all the more curious.
“You live in Mumbai?”
“Yes, we do. Where are you going?” She asked as she pulled back a strand of her black hair.
“Me? I’m going to a remote village in Haryana. I’m a medical student.” I said proudly, but not arrogantly.
Her smile then widened into a broad grin and revealed her perfect white teeth.
“When did you get married?” I couldn’t stop asking questions.
“Today,” she said, and with that at last the train started moving in its tortoise speed. Her answer left me with millions of more questions to ask but she got busy with her husband. Chattering and nattering!
*A state in India
**An occupation of some in India where they carry the luggage from the railway tracks to the trains.
*** An Indian style shirt worn both by men and women with Indian look to it.
**** An Indian black and golden beaded necklace which married women wear.
***** A mark worn on forehead These really helped me!
I really want to read more. I have so many questions left unanswered, in a good way of course. I hope my comments helped. That is all I really have to say about it. Keep up the good work. Thank you for asking me to review.
This is a 10 out of 10!A. S.
