Tales from a Travelling salesman

New Year Nervousness I am restless and edgy thinking of the last few days of this year. I dread invitations to parties. Nowadays people do not even have the courtesy to call, they simply send Whatsapp invites that sound more like a command than an invitation.  I am a loner and an intensely private man. For me, attending a party is a punishment. Anything that I hate more than a party is to attend a religious function at someone's house. Most of the time, I put two large whiskeys under my belt before I go for religious ceremonies.  I grew up in a mofussil town with a population of less than two lakh people when I left my home. I had not heard of Merry Christmas and Happy New Year that fall in December until I was 25 and went to Goa for a business trip.  For me, the new year meant Diwali in October with food as a principal theme. But now that I live in multicultural Mumbai, and that too in a suburb of Bandra, I dare not escape New Year.  The other day, ...

A cupboard existence I live out of a cupboard. All my worldly possessions fit into one cupboard in my bedroom. There has been a lot of pressure from my wife to expand my life, my possessions beyond this cupboard. But I have resisted so far.  I have been decluttering my life ever since I retired. My cupboard has everything that I live off. My clothes, my papers, my memorabilia, my travel kits, and other small stuff that one tend to gather when one reaches the age of 68.  The cupboard I have has innumerable compartments, even hidden ones. They crisscross like the pattern of life I have lived. As I like sorted life, this complexity in design gives me the thrill to store my things in an amazingly sorted manner.  I vividly recall my first cupboard when I was 8. I shared that with my elder brother who bullied me to surrender more space to him beyond his entitlement. Those days my worldly possession comprised 2 shirts, one-half pant, one towel that we shared, school books, ...

Rail journey again Nostalgia twinning with melancholy takes over my emotions as I sit on a railway station bench at Anand. My mind adamantly recalls every rail journey I had in my life; a journey in midnight train to Rajkot with two friends, a journey to Mumbai with same set in college vacation, my tryst with Madras on Dadar Madra Express, midnight boarding of Grand Trunk express to go to Punjab, alighting at Kota station at 2 am. Anand station recognizes me well. This is  the 6th time in 7 months. Coolies know me to be a man without luggage except for shirt on my back, bearer in Shatabdi know me to be a man who carries his Old Monk and diet Coke and one who never ears train food. My driver knows precise spot where I will stand when Shatabdi arrives ar Mumbai Central. Anand station is buzzing with people milling around to clamber on to 3 trains arriving before mine. This town is owned by Amul Milk people so their showcase shop at the station is buzzing. Railways have cleaned up...