As I sit at the foot of closed doors to a cafe, facing the national Highway, I’m reminded of the ‘ordinaryness’ of travel. It’s these moments stitched together that then form greater stories but often these moments get missed out.
I appreciate the quietness of these moments – waiting for the bus, having tea by the road while waiting for another one, strolling in the bus stand to figure my next destination. I can’t really do much in these moments other than decluttering my digital space, the book I’m reading is too far inside my dayback and i learn nothing from my previous experiences i guess. I have also almost forgotten to take water all day and now i can feel the oncoming migraine. As i think of all this, I’m distracted by this side fan that’s keeping the entire waiting room sane.
I wonder how many days have i spent in waiting rooms alone. Back during college, the train i would take from my parents home to college would reach way too early for me to take a tuktuk alone. So, i would sleep for an hour or two in the waiting room before heading out. Something that set the precident for me when i was in Latin America and would sleep in bus stand and airports to save on some night’s accommodation. I guess i have gotten to know my way around waiting rooms now.
It’s these transit days that i don’t like so much about travel. Having to lug around two packs seems like a task. But it’s these transit days that i need to orient myself. Also, Indians will take any excuse to have chai 🙂