The Rajdhani Express. India’s most luxurious train!
Cockroaches all over the compartment (AC 2 Tier) and food that literally induced regurgitations.
Add to that the fact that Mom left me with no luggage but lots of stuff to carry.
There’s a huge swelling on my right shoulder, I’m typing this entirely with my left hand. Conditioned reflexes have ensured that I know better than to call home when I’m in trouble. A typical conversation goes something like this:
Me: Dad, the luggage is too much for a sane man to carry and the train food’s made me sick. To add to that, I think I’ve sprained my shoulder carrying this junk around.
Dad: OK, Don’t Get Angry and Stop Shouting
Me: I’m not angry or shouting!
Dad: Stop Shouting and Don’t talk To Me Like That!
Mom: If you study hard, you won’t have to bear all this in the future, you know. And don’t shout!
Me: I’M NOT SHOUTING! Oh, bugger.
And so on.
So now I have no option but to keep everyone, including Abhimanyu (who I’m supposed to meet) in the dark and catch my 1245 train to Lucknow.
“And don’t tell me God works in mysterious ways,” Yossarian continued […] “There’s nothing mysterious about it, He’s not working at all. He’s playing. Or else He’s forgotten all about us. That’s the kind of God you people talk about, a country bumpkin, a clumsy, bungling, brainless, conceited, uncouth hayseed. Good God, how much reverence can you have for a Supreme Being who finds it necessary to include such phenomena as phlegm and tooth decay in His divine system of Creation? What in the world was running through that warped, evil, scatological mind of His when He robbed old people of the power to control their bowel movements? Why in the world did He ever create pain?”