"Mr.Prabhul K Nair.... See you soon.."

'Sentences and digits' we could read and the 'drawings' we could witness on the stinking toilet-walls of the rusting trains shows how imaginative are the people! None can come out of those art-galleries without a shame-filled smile at the lips. Every parent will be fluttered about this disastrous part of train journey. I don’t think the ambiance inside the cabin is capable of making any Indian proud being an Indian. 

I went to Malappuram for 2 days by the Train. Train made up of iron was as hot as an iron-box in the making! Annoying humidity in the air continuously maddened and made me to sip more into and splatter more on the face again and again.  Music had nothing to do much in the muggy condition of the day. Many coffees, Teas, Pazhamporis, Biryanees, Appam and Muttacurry, Buttermilk, Parippuvasas and Uzhunnuvadas passed by aside over the journey. Also, many lips, eyes, skin-tones, anatomy and gestures came across the surface of my boyish-mind on my jaunt from various resources around.

On the way, the leach-paced passenger-train remained idle in a station for more than my tolerance-limit.  A clutch of guys attracted me to get down onto the station-platform. I drew near the group of around 10 and I understood that, during one of the co-travelers’ private proceeding inside the dirty toilet-cabin, his cell phone had fallen down into the hole and rested under the train on the rail tracks; the longest toilet in the planet!  The gentleman was aghast in losing his cell phone under the train. A gnarled tea-seller of the IRCTC came forward in his daggy official dress and extorted the contract of retrieving the cell phone. But, he demanded Rs.100/- for the insecure task! Before the green flag to be shown at the both ends, the tea-seller hastily infiltrated into the dirty-spot beneath the rusted toilet-hole and grabbed it by neglecting the foul-odoured droplets fall! He handed it over and collected the fresh currency and closed the deal. After a silly hand-wash, the tea-seller resumed praising aloud about his hot-tea and disappeared some-where. Half of the mob chortled at and the rest appreciated the Spiderman! 

I could meet Prabhul n family, Reju, Saleel, Akshai and Hyder.  ‘Atlast’, Prahul got job and getting ready to take wing to the land of sand. He got only 2 days left out living in India! He will be backing only after not less than 730 nights and days as per the visa contents; a short-break from 'Kappa to Kubboos'. 

We gallivanted around his native-zone to fraternize many of his kith and kin once before his maiden-flight across the ocean.  Above the neck and below the elbow turned dark from the bike rides and long walks on sunbeams. Presence of wrist-watch kept back a wide pallid line on the wrist! My preserved fairy-complexion got dried up in the wild heat like the skinless-apple endures!

Reddish grilled chicken and Tandoor rotti, I selected it from the lengthy menu for the supper at the famous restaurant of the place. We slept late in the night; the ‘last’ nighttime I can splurge with Prabhul! We chattered, muttered, chortled and slipped slept slowly. On the next day, when I step off of his house, I told his Dad and Mom that ‘See you after 2 years’. A negative sentence from me spread a dark smoke around. I ignited the sad-button 'in due' in that family and left. 

I, Saleel, Akshai and Hyder escorted him to Kozhikode to purchase the apparels and visited many more places and persons. We had an immense day. Heart was feeling guilty to fabricate a sincere laugh though we were in a fright of dispersing each other in a few minutes. Thereafter, Prabhul paid the bill and TIPS for the lavish and gourmet luncheon. We estranged many bones from the flesh!

They dropped me at the railway station. I forgot not to store up the stills of the tender moments in my cell. On disperse, he put his arms around me for a while and with a shivering head he persistently laughed without any reason. I too brought out the virtual laugh in my face. It was nothing more than a muzzle-exercise! Because, we don’t wanted to be sad. At last I told him, “Never ever forget to bring deodorants, T-shirts, foreign soaps, shampoos, creams and lotions on return.”

Thereafter, I got into a rush-train. It was dusk-passed by the time I reached the Kasaragod station. A temple festival-procession on the NH 17 created an atrocious traffic-block for almost an hour. The noisy devotional show-offs badly spoiled the time. Police were assisting the festival-organizing committee in blocking the vehicles effectively. Alarm of ambulance was not stronger than the celebration band-sound! Creating a traffic block seems to be a prestige issue to every religion. If a religion is not capable of making a huge traffic block, then respective religion is labeled as weak!  

I reached home late and continued the actions.