Many a times in life you decide to be brave and tread the difficult path.
You decide to unleash the brave soldier within yourself.
Almost always the decision makes you want to kill yourself so badly, it hurts in places you never knew you had in you!!!
It was a journey I was so looking forward to.
So much there, so little here – was all I could think.
The only problem was the sex of the fucking ticket.
I mean the gender of the person travelling.
I am a female and the person travelling according to the ticket was two letters short of becoming female; an 'f' and an 'e'.
As a result, after many vain attempts of practising lies and harboring ideas of dressing up as one among the lesser sex (I meant the lesser number of letters), I decided to be brave - to bring forth the unscathed, undeterred and oh so wonderful warrior hidden deep inside me. Wtf?
I decided to travel by the general compartment.
I have never even dreamt of sitting on a metal bar with a few pieces of broken wood on both sides of it about 6 feet above ground level.
But reality offered better.
In addition to sitting on the mentioned ‘haven’, I had the privilege to have a bawling baby and a fisherwoman sit nearer to me than I would ever have them near my enemies.
I sat for sixteen hours hugging my legs, knees under my chin.
I couldn’t move my neck or my right hand for nine hours afterward.
I didn’t want to touch myself because I could feel the millions of bacteria all over each and every millimetre of my body.
I don't know what hurt though.
It was not my body.
I was hurt that my belief had ditched me.
I was not wrong about my destination: What I had there was well worth leaving here.
But not worth hurting my belief that being brave is smart.
Being brave is stupid - Almost always.