On the Train

 

My heart pounds as I rush around in the morning. 8.30 a.m comes around far too fast and I’m always subconsciously accusing myself why I wasn’t organized the night before. Then I remember how I struggled all these days, my life energy depleted – I was walking around doing the bare minimum. It felt like I was drowning, and no one could save me except myself. Yoga Nidra last night helped somewhat, especially the Ram chant that always soothes my soul.

Going in the train each morning on my workdays, now feels like a little luxury. A mini holiday. After the morning scramble, I can just relax for 20 minutes. Today I felt like I need to use this time to write. I haven’t been writing for many weeks and maybe I need to do it to save my life. I keep thinking about Natalie Goldberg and her book ‘writing down the bones’. There is a desire to write down my thoughts and the details of my life. Maybe this is my calling. Writing. I wish I knew how to do it well.

I dropped Sahan at Montessori and sighed a big sigh of relief at his lack of crying – even though at the last minute he asks me to hug him. Then I drove the big courtesy car I have (after the accident – a story for another day) to a side street near Fruitvale station – on Tahi Tce and parked on the 2^nd spot I found after struggling to park it on the first spot I picked. I swore as I heard the left-hand side front wheel scrap or grind (God forbid) on the side walk and prayed fervently that it would not be bad. After getting down and being thankful that the wheels are not those fancy alloy wheels and instead, old, worn out and basic and already not in the best shape, I locked the vehicle, checked the door twice after getting my stuff and scuttled off looking back. I don’t know why I always have an urge to go back and check the doors, but I overcame it this time and walked on, trying to soak in the passing surroundings.

The not-so-flash neighborhood on this fine winter morning looked peaceful. Roses and so many flowers I don’t yet know the names of greeted me as I puffed along. On the street corner, the garden was strewn with red and white magnolias in full bloom, and I suddenly decided to stop and take a picture. At the same time, I noticed the traffic lights at the train tracks flash red and go ding-ding-ding and the barrier arm closed. And there goes the train I should have caught! I just smiled at the irony of it and kept walking towards the train station, the photo taking idea now abandoned. Hopefully, the next one comes in 10 mins, but I was yet to find out that, that one was cancelled.

 I slow my pace and let my heart rate slow down. I greet the maintenance guy who was blowing leaves from the tracks ‘good morning’!. He seemed a little startled at being acknowledged and I was reminded of the guy at work I sometimes see, who nods and smiles at me with full awareness and not in the distracted way most people do it. I feel like he ‘sees’ me and cannot help but have a feeling of warmth inside as our common humanity is acknowledged. I’m determined to pass this feeling to other people I see around me. I believe that each one of us unconsciously long to feel ‘seen’ and ‘heard’, momentarily at least snapping out of the trances we live in. Most days when I feel the lack of being acknowledged as a human being, I feel like my soul has shriveled up and somehow, I’m dying inside.

There comes my stop. Grafton station. And off I go.