Why I undertook a 28-hr train journey from Chennai to Delhi

1. It takes that many long hours. Though one has to admit it doesn't seem that many when you consider it's practically travelling from one end of the country to the opposite—almost like going from one country to another.
2. I have a masochistic streak that ensures I always do what others warn me against, and in the process, end up screwing my happiness. This is a central theme in Irvine Welsh’s (of ‘Trainspotting’ fame) works, and entirely true in my case.
3. This is part of my desire to travel the length and breadth of the country—something I should've done as a student—though I wish the train was a hop-on-hop-off variety, and most stations were air-conditioned.
4. Ideally attempted best by road, particularly if I had to blog about it, I reckoned rail was at least a start. Next in line should be a caravan pulled by an SUV, though I could settle for just an SUV, as long as it’s mean, rugged and macho, never mind its gas-guzzling ways. If anyone’s willing to sponsor, drop me a line.
5. I find it amusing to listen in on Tamil conversations, pretending I can't follow what's being said, when in fact, I can, unless there are numbers involved, where I get hopelessly muddled.
6. I have a good friend in the Railways who unfailingly gets seats confirmed at short notice (well, almost always, God bless him).
7. It's a good lesson in catching up with the real India—passengers, bureaucracy, workers, countryside, smelly loos and a constant pain in the back.
8. It's a good deal cheaper than the not-so-low-price airlines, especially when you're not chasing your own tail in the frenetic corporate world, rushing from meaningless meeting to meaningless meeting.
9. I had all the time in the world, and in any case, who wants to hurry to an empty house. Well, in hindsight, the lure of your own bed, after that tossing around on arbitrary berths is considerable, empty house or not.
10. I needed to clear the cobwebs in my mind, and think afresh about this new phase of my life. OK, also to postpone the new beginning by a bit.
11. I like the crunchy bread-sticks they serve with soup in the trains—as also the yellow butter that I consume without guilt on such rare occasions.
12. With the money saved, I get to log more travel miles on more journeys in my cosmic travel plan, which, it turns out, is dynamically extending in sync with my good health.
13. I get to see so many curtains creating so many fiercely-created private spaces in an otherwise clearly public place that it borders on the ridiculous.
14. Away from the airports, it reminds me of the yet thriving community of TTEs, ASMs, RPF, and countless, faceless others that work tirelessly, and often for a pittance, in ludicrous clothes and practices left behind by the British.
15. It convinces me that despite the rapid strides made by the aviation sector, India is still largely moved by the wheels of her Railways, easily the largest and most diverse network in the world.
16. Frankly, because Delhi was not going to come to Chennai, not only because the Vindhyas came in between, but also the tensions caused by the relatively modern spectre called 2G put together so creatively by Kanimozhi and Raja.
17. It lets you justifiably exist in a fluid cocoon away from the rest of the world for an extended period of time, with selective percolation of only those things you want, via the smartphone. All the while letting you believe that you're doing something worthwhile, as you have a goal you're moving towards.
18. For legitimately enjoying, as an adult, the rhythmic rocking and swaying motion we've never forgotten since our days in the crib, and which can never be duplicated in a car unless its suspension is badly buggered.
19. Perhaps the only way one can actually see parallel lines meet, and quickly disappear into tangents as the train switches tracks, quite the metaphor for life's twists and turns whizzing past, seldom within control.
20. It was the only way I could replay a similar journey I'd undertaken (though in reverse, from Calcutta to Madras, as they were called then) at the start of my work life. The circumstances are similar, though three decades have passed, and as I stand on the threshold of a new career, I wanted this second innings to start in the same fashion, in an attempt to answer: have I really become any wiser?
21. The true Indian character is more on display in trains and stations rather than in planes and airports. Right from loud talking, striking inane conversations with total strangers, displaying undue familiarity via probing personal questions, taking shoes, and other articles of clothing, off in public, eating mannerlessly, travelling with copius amounts of luggage, we Indians are completely at home on trains. This is stuff we can't see on trains abroad, so why not live it unabashedly here, once a while?
22: I feel you're somehow more 'grounded' while travelling on a train, though unlike my wife, I don't feel it's 'safer', if statistics are to be relied on. Of course, because it's a good deal more cumbersome, such adventures are best advised less frequently.
23. I get more time to catch up on my reading, and sleep, apart from updating my blog, The most meaningful, of course, and the one that contributes most to society is the sleep part, as that creates an effective counterpoint to the typical loud behaviour evident on trains.
24. Trains are possibly the only vehicles where you get air blown on your ass even as you crap. Now that, and the unusual noise in the loos might be a source of worry for some like my son, but for me, it's exciting, as it harks me back to my childhood, when I first came to grips with this situation.
25. I don't want to be responsible for any dips in Indian Railways' financial performance, so it's a good idea to give them my custom, though I'd be loathe to sign on as a frequent traveller. After all, it's not just Jet and Kingfisher that should dominate my share of wallet.
26. Compared to both road and air travel, train travel is certainly greener per passenger carried. This definitely qualifies for a big thumbs-up. Now, we could really talk if someone would develop solar power solutions for powering trains—though they would have to contend with the issue of cloudy skies during the monsoons.
27. My grandfather, so the story goes, was found abandoned as an infant in a train compartment, by a gentleman who worked in the Railway Police, who took him home and raised him to be a fine young man, and a Railway Police Inspector. With railway blood running through me it's little wonder I support the Railways whenever I can, though I have to admit I've never considered working for them, even in my wildest dreams.
28. I reckon if 27 reasons are not enough to convince you, my inventing a last one will hardly matter, so here it is anyway: if you've read so far, the Railways' equity and positive word of mouth has already expanded—and that wouldn't have been possible had I not undertaken this journey in the first place!

How abnormal are you?

All our lives, we're taught to be normal. Whether it concerns your education, occupation, relationships, marriage, attire or etiquette, it's drilled into you at every step of the way, that it makes sense to conform. By the time you're 4 years old, give or take a few months, you're taught 'manners', and the 'right' and 'acceptable way of doing virtually everything. Write with your right hand, greet people with a smile, dress appropriately, study hard, go to college, marry at the right age, respect elders and superiors, take care of your family, help the poor: who isn't familiar with the script by now? Whether it's your conduct, ideals or even role models, all prescriptions have to do with normality. If you're not like others, you're in some sense not adequate: normal is right, normal is expected, normal is good. And by corollary, abnormal is an aberration, abnormal is weird. Heck who wants an abnormal child, husband or father?

Yet, when you think of great people, how many normal or conformist personalities come to your mind? Einstein, Da Vinci, Gandhi, Picasso, Michael Jackson, Liz Taylor, Bill Gates, Dhoni: just how normal were/are they? Try again: do u remember the normal teacher, the sweet friend, the nice hero, the easy general, the soft-spoken corporate czar or the 'proper' politician?
Nyet, non, nien, NO! You remember the strict teacher, the class bully, the dangerous lover, belligerent general and the devious tyrant, instead.

And there's a reason for this. Because our minds are so full of the same sameness, anything that sticks out sticks to the memory. Which is probably why we tend to remember something that stands out, even if it is classified as unethical or wrong; things and people that are different, quirky, weird or nerdy in some sense; concepts and people who've moved substantially away from the normal. If you've studied that part of marketing that deals with Positioning, you'll get my drift.

Once you admit this, it's not a great leap to ask: why is it that we persist in saluting sameness and normality? Why do we teach our children to conform? Why don't we push them to follow up their crazy dreams? Why don't we support eccentricity in employees? Why don't we routinely do something unexpected, wild or wicked?

At this stage of our evolution, it might do us some good to step back and consider why we don't systematically and endemically encourage creativity, even, a little 'madness' at every step of our journeys in life. When your child writes a horror story, pat her on the back, and marvel at his imagination when he acts like a buffoon. And don't stop when you find yourself breaking into a song for no reason, or wanting to quietly drive away to the hills, all by yourself. For out of such contrary behavior is born greatness. Not that we don't know this - but somehow, nine times out of ten, we believe such things are OK for geniuses, but not for us. True, thinking differently, or 'out of the box' is now somewhat in vogue, particularly in some fields, but it is still regarded largely as a problem-solving technique, a deviation rather than a rule. When, if ever, will we give non-conformity the centrality and respect it deserves? When will we proudly celebrate the 'idiot' in us?

Two arguments to the contrary need to be considered here. One which maintains that quirky-ness doesn't equal brilliance. Are you sure? Isnt history replete with examples of men who were dumped as outcastes in their lifetimes but revered later? One age's madness is another's genius: otherwise how do you explain the vision of Copernicus, or Guru Dutt?

The other argument might be expected from the moralists. Is it not enough to be good and proper and live your life as God would have it: no lies or curse-words, no cheating, acceptable manners, and a generally cheerful demeanor that suggests we're all living in Utopia? Seriously, in today's, why, every period's dog-eat-dog world, show me more than a handful of people who are content living such a life, when there awaits a world of opportunities for those who can grab them. One could even argue that by being good and expected, you will at best touch the lives of a limited few people like your family and associates. But who wants such an epitaph, when by being different, even 'bad' you can leave a much larger impact? After all, we all overlook the many dalliances of men like Picasso and focus instead on their work.

So in the end, the choice is yours: a life of normalcy, goodness and obscurity, or one of feisty difference, dreaming and living your own dream, by your own standards, even if it ruffles many feathers in your lifetime? For me, the choice couldn't be clearer, and if you can't see it, you're too normal!