The place was stinking. I could hardly breathe in there. It
was already 3 AM in the night and I was locked in that fucking toilet, fully
awake with both my eyes and ears wide open. Everyone was in sound sleep except
me and that lady. I flushed it again but for no use. ‘Who the hell designed
these toilets? Can’t these European bastards use little bit more water and save
some papers? They use so many resources of the world but save water in the
toilets. Bushtit!’ Frustration had taken over me.
It had been over a month since I landed in Europe. Since then
I had been travelling like berserk. But I still remember the first train
journey in Europe. It was from Paris to Lille. How excited I was! After coming
from Delhi to Paris, there were only negligible differences I was able to
notice. The similar grass, similar trees, similar roads and similar cars – all
were same as in India – even the sun was shining with the same brightness. Only
difference existed was the galloping life. Trains, metros, buses, people all
were moving restlessly in all directions. But amidst all these, there was an
unknown silence. Everyone appeared so preoccupied. Dogs were still roaming on
the platform but not alone. I had felt so jealous and had quietly wished to the
God, “Make me a dog of Europe in my next life.” Where did all the poor people
go? My eyes had got stuck at the young man standing beside the entrance,
dressed up in the black coat, with nice hat on his head, holding a new shining
guitar in his hand. He was trying to break the silence with his trembling voice
and people were throwing euros in the hat lying beside him. He was the poor guy
begging for his livelihood. I had looked into my pocket. There was a hundred
rupee note, silently sleeping inside the purse. Gandhi Jee was smiling at my
fate which I could barely sense that day.
I looked at my watch. It would have been hardly 10 minutes
since I was locked in that fucking toilet. ‘The bloody time doesn't pass whenever
you wait for it!’ This was the first time when I did not imagine my future with
a girl after looking at her. Otherwise my imagination power had taken a big
leap after coming to Europe. This had been the most significant change in my
life. Now I could stop time for myself, and move others in their past or
future. This I used to practice every day with all the European beauties. Age
really didn't matter anymore. I looked into the mirror hanging there. Red eyes
were fighting for sleep but they were still wide open, waiting for the right
moment. The subconscious mind was again lost, recollecting brightness in the
past.
I was really awestruck by the poverty level in these
countries. One poor people in Europe was equivalent to more than ten thousands
poor people in India, I had just compared their gross income relying on the
poverty limit set by the Indian government. My excitement to explore the truth had
made a quantum leap. I queued up in front of the ticket counter. People didn't
speak much here. No one was pushing me from back. What kind of queue was this! Most
of them had put a headphone. I didn't know what they listen. It must have been
some lullaby as I could hardly find any motion in their body. But the queue was
still long, only cloths were shrinking. It was the symbol of progress truly
inspired by the Gandhian philosophy – speak less, watch less, hear less and
wear less. Now I could sense the smile of Gandhi Jee. We Indian had never
believed his ideologies, so he was happily residing in Europe.
My thought process was terminated as someone tried to open
the toilet. ‘What the hell! Can’t these idiots see the red symbol outside?’ It
seemed that train had stopped at some station. I tried to listen to the sound. Goddamn!
Stations are so dull here. Standing in the toilet it was so difficult to sense
what’s going on outside. Had it been India, you can easily sense even in your
sound sleep that the train is standing at station. I never missed the Indian
train so much. ‘She must have gone down now. Should I come out now? What if she
would be standing just outside, waiting for me? I think she had seen me coming
towards the toilet.’ This was 6th time in that night when I had
tried to bamboozle her. By now, she must have sensed my intention. I took a
look at my watch again. It had just passed 17 minutes. ‘What is the probability
that I will bump into her if I just go out.’ The challenge was ahead and I
tried to use my statistical acumen. ‘The time spent by a person in a toilet
should follow an exponential distribution with upper bound. No, it should be normal
distribution skewed to left. If I consider mean time as 5 minutes and standard
deviation as 2 minutes, will I be safe enough to go out? It has already been
more than mean plus three sigma. What about the kurtosis and skewness of the
distribution. My mind was busy figuring out the statistics. What the hell! It’s
too complicated to rely on it. All the management studies are useless. They
always teach you only the simplified version which never exists.’ I cursed the
education system. I could not take the risk.
Standing in the queue I had kept looking around. It had taken
half an hour to get my Eurail pass punched. It was the beginning of a big
quest. I had pushed my luggage in the first class coach of the train. For the
first time, I had got the benefit of my age. I was two years older to be youth.
So, I had to pay more and enjoy the luxury of travelling in the first class. Sitting
on the pouffe as I had looked through the glass, everything had appeared as if I
was watching a bio-scope. Train had started moving like a rolling reel and scenes
had begun to change one by one. There were the corn fields spread till horizon
and sometime there were just a few cows and horses grazing in a well barricaded
land. As the train had crossed a city the flowers and gardens had popped up with
beautiful building in between. Pavements on both sides of streets and roads were
decorated with cars. Even the stranded trees and pathways were trimmed, glorifying
the beauty of Europe. Nature was smiling as if it was posing for photographs
every moment.
I took out my mobile phone and clicked the sleepy man
standing behind the mirror. It is the era of Facebook. Everyone is having fun
and enjoying his moments, be it private or public. And I didn't want to be left
behind. The living in this world has never been so much exciting before. Someone
was enjoying in the huts in some far away village of Bihar and someone had just
reached that rusty looking bridge where I must have gone ten times before. It
was tagged as ‘Dream of the nature’. The filthy water flowing underneath the
bridge appeared really dreamy in the photograph. ‘How should, I tag my photo? Hugging in the
toilet! Wow! It will really look like having a lot of fun.’ I was quite amazed
at my knowledge of Hinglish. I looked back at my watch. It had been more than forty
minutes now. I opened the door; scanned left and right; once, twice and thrice.
A deep silence was hovering all over the place. The lady in the black coat was
nowhere. I took a deep breath. Everyone was sleeping except one couple in the
back seat who were enjoying their private moments hopefully away from the world
of Facebook.
This had been the longest night of my life. Now I wanted to
sleep. It was around 4 O’clock, still more than an hour was left to reach
Munich. I had never fought so much to save my ass before, added on that without
doing anything wrong. I did have the genuine ticket with me. Then why I was
running away from that black coat lady? She would have been in her forties,
double of my size in all dimensions, with big ticket punching machine hanging
beside her jeans, hardly seemed like sparing anyone. With her open hair, she
looked like a beautiful beast.
The journey I had started with Paris to Lille, more than a
month ago, actually never stopped. And the Eurail pass which was initially meant
for 15 days only kept increasing his life as the dates kept on changing. I
changed 11 to 12 and then 12 to 13 and so forth as long as I could do. The excitement
to explore more and more had taken a big toll on my Gandhian philosophy. Every
lie buries some truth under it. And dishonesty! It always emanates from an
honest heart. The truth was that I was the poorest guy, may be poorer than the
guy with that shining guitar at the platform. When I started my journey from
Cologne to Munich last night, there was not even a single day left in my eurail
pass anymore. But I still had to return next day from Munich to Bordeaux, my
new home town. If my pass would have been punched tonight, I could not have
been able to change the date anymore. And then, I didn't know how much I would
have to spend, may be more than 200 euros. So, I fought for my poverty. My
heart was beheld in the beauties of Europe. So, I fought to be honest to
myself, to be honest to my desire.
I looked at the display board in the train. The train was
silently slipping over the rails with 154 km/h. I tried to peep across the
window. Night was still smiling in the darkness. I hated it. I closed my eyes
with a sense of achievement. But my subconscious mind was still busy decoding
the smile. I didn't know I slept over or was still awake. Next time when I
opened my eyes, only thing I could see was the black coat lady. She was
standing just a few steps from me, busy punching the tickets of passengers who
got in at the last stop. I didn't know what to do now. ‘Why she has to carry
her duties so sincerely?’ I cursed her dedication. I stood up, took a U-turn,
and ran towards that toilet without wasting even a single second. I was again
locked in my abode, 7th time that night. The toilet looked like a
heaven with its ineffable aroma. The commode was glowing in the milky light of
the lamp hanging above. I took out the toilet paper and wiped my forehead. My
heart was pounding and I thanked the European intellect for building such a
beautiful home.