Surreal-ity

I spent the better part of last week back in Madras, where the sun shines brightly and the humidity makes you sweat like you've just run a four-minute mile! But thats not what I'm writing about today. I want to tell you about my bus journeys both on the way to Madras and back.

These seemingly disconnected road trips are bound together by the sleep induced surreal events that took place in the middle of the night. A friend of mine once said, "Night time is the best time for criminal activities" in a drunken stupor. In my case nighttime is the best time to experience something that isn't really taking place or sometimes isn't even there.

On the journey to the city of my birth, Lady Luck decided to be good to me and provided me with an A/C ticket for Non A/C price. This could have someting to do with the fact that there were only 7 people booked onto that bus. Anyway, we get on teh road and all is fine until we reach a place called Channasamudra about a hundred kilometers from Madras. It is at this inconsequential location that we suddenly find ourselves politely dragged from our little nooks in the Land of Nod and asked to change buses. It has never happened to me before but what was surreal or what made it surreal was the the presence of a check post about 50 meters away. The whole place was lit up by the dirty yellow of powerful halogens. It felt like we were defectors, political asylum seekers, or refugees trying to cross the border to a more liberal land. Surreal-ity!

It comes at a time of my life when I am looking for asylum, not from persecution or restriction of freedom but from the boundaries and bariers placed on us by society. I'm looking for asylum from mindless following of set precedents. From the inability to think beyond our little worlds. Mostly I'm looking for peace and a new begining.

Madras is my home. I'm comfortable in the city and thankfully, the city is progressing in as much as Bangalore is regressing. I spent five glorius lazy days in the company of friends, old and new, and I knew it was the right decision. All that remaains is for me to keep my focus on the goals I've set for myself and as the song goes "Everything's gonna be alright..."

The ride back was even more surreal. Firstly, the bus took an extra half hour to leave the station and this resulted in me being drenched in sweat. So I left the window open! The cool breeze lulled me to sleep and I passed the fuck out. The cool breeze soon became cold wind which in turn became a frigid blast of icy air! I didnt mind so much but when the bus went through teh wildlife sanctuary in Chitoor, things got a little wierd. I heard wolves howling and even in the the relative protection of the bus it was a little frightening. This sort of this doesn't usually scare me but the effect of sleep, and the cold wind worked togetehr to create some sort of paranoia. I realized that I could shut my jaw, which had dropped due to the cold and couldn't move, because I was, well, asleep!

Anyway, I managed to wake up and shut my dropped jaw but then it seemed to me that we would reach Bangalore, every five minutes. I don't usually dream so this was a pretty traumatic experience for me!

Maybe it was symbolic of coming back to Bangalore. Most likely it isn't. I was dreading coming back but the minute I got off the bus it didn't feel so bad. I like this city more than I care to mention. I love the weather. And I liek that you can do most things without censure. I liek that it's a young city with an old man's attitude. And I like it because I lived here for a year. but it's not home. Maybe Madras is. Maybe not. But I know one thing for sure. I'll never be completely at home anywhere. I'm a wanderer. Always trying to find a home and always just falling short.