(Un)eventful days?

It looks like things are in a state of total monotony these days. And when I mean monotony, I mean  Boring. (As you can see, spelt with a capital 'b'). There is a difference between the two. 
It's not as if I have absolutely nothing to do these days; in fact, there are a lot of things which keep me occupied everyday, every hour- even if not every minute.
Reading books (I still have two AMs to complete), helping mom (yes, I sometimes do do that), going out and enjoying what is left of the holidays this time. And what is left is really short- especially now that June has set in and my coaching classes have started.
I still have a lot of "incomplete" work to do. I haven't bought any of the books, for starters. And neither have I looked into all my stationary and school bags and other things I would probably need by the time the month is over.
Apart from all this, I've also been attending many functions. Just yesterday was my cousin's Aanduneravu (first birthday).
Functions such as these take up more than half a day; they are a good way to pass time- I get to meet people who I haven't seen in years and talk to them (and they'll eventually get to the part where they say, "You know how you looked like when you were a really kutti baby.....?").
Today, for instance, was jam-packed. I spent the whole morning cleaning the house (well, sort of); the afternoon went in reading books and enjoying the peace inside the house (which disrupted after some two hours), and the evening at school.
Attending IIT classes after more than a month actually turned out to be quite fun and interesting; but that might be because the teacher ignored the fact that all of us had failed to complete the 50-odd sums she had given as homework in chemistry alone! (About which I only remembered yesterday... I took one look at the wad of papers and promptly kept it back inside the file and fastened it.)
My only cause for concern right now is hoping that I don't spend all of my time being bored; it's nearing 11pm and all I can think of right now is how bored I was!
Do you know something? In my quest for fitting Bored pictures, I actually found out that people google 'I am bored' with more than 120,000,000 matches!

PS: Google has a lot of great "Bored" pictures..
I especially liked this one!

I did this when I was bored...

Now this is the symbol we should have on Transformers!

Any need for justification?

Well, I managed to surprise (and maybe shock) quite a few people today...
At school, the immediate question every student is assaulted with by student, parent and teacher alike is this:
What are you taking next year?
"IP," I say.

The immediate reaction from everyone to whom I told this to was exactly the same.
"You're taking IP?!!"
Well, the reaction was the same, but the tones were quite different. A surprised one from Shruti, a sorrowfull one from Siva (relax, we'll be in the same class!), an excited one from Aprajita (adding,  "Yay! I won't be the only girl!") and totally disbelieving ones from the others.
Well, I wanted to ask some of them, Why not? Why did they have to sound like as if I was taking a subject that was somehow... beneath me, or not fitting for me?

Believe me when I say that if I had known that I would choose IP two months back, I would have retorted with a strong "No Way!". I was hell-bent on choosing C++. Programming was my forte.
But of course, I had no idea what was actually taught in IP. I knew that a bit of VB was, but then, after reading the same topic for 3 years, I'd had enough of it- in the sense that I wanted to learn something new. I had also heard a lot of comments from seniors that C++ was "damn tough", "mokkai" and "a killer subject" and all that, but I felt fairly confident that I would be able to manage it.

Me not taking the subject is definitely not due to lack of confidence. It was mainly because of my dad. A few weeks before the results actually came out, this topic came up and dad told me that IP would be better. I had always had the idea that whatever I took, my parents would be okay with it. Mom was a bit miffed in the beginning because I wasn't planning to take up Biology (she's a Natural Science fan) but then gave in because I wouldn't budge one bit, while Dad really didn't say anything at all. So naturally, this came as a surprise.
Then the confusion started. I had wanted to take C++ (I really hadn't considered any other option) but my dad knew better than me; so he must have had a reason for saying this.

I started asking around. Looked at the syllabus PDF from the official site; asked for a few more opinions. What I got when I asked my classmates was "IP? That's Java right?"
Well, one thing was for certain: if they were teaching JAVA, then I was in. But the Java part was not yet confirmed; and I still didn't know as much about the subject as I would have liked to.

On my Application form, all I specified was Computer Science- mentally, the decision wasn't made until yesterday night.
Today, I was sure of my choice; and when I saw the enormous crowd in front of the office- candidates vying for a seat in the C++ category- I felt just a bit better about it.

I still can't recollect what my thoughts/feelings were (apart from relief) when I accepted the signed Admission form from the Vicey with her best wishes, but I really don't think that there was any confusion.
The funny thing is, my dad let out his reasons why I should take the subject only after all this was over, when we were returning home.
He said a lot of things, some which I can still remember, many which I can't recollect now; but I did get the gist:

a. Databases are really, really important. And so is database programming
b. C++ is back-end programming. In IP we'll be learning more about front-end
c. GUI programming and Web designing are extremely important
d. ...and so is Java

Now that I've passed the road named admission, the next worry is right over that bend. IIT classes. The next, right ahead that traffic signal. 11th standard. Well, it won't be a boring year for sure, but we will just have to wait and see, right?

My Top Secret Mission

To those who have been worrying about what's happened to me and the blog... Don't.
I've not gone anywhere all this time (uh, not the whole time; I managed to squeeze in a few trips here and there) and well, as you can see, the blog's URL hasn't changed either.
Well, it's been a while since I've last updated this so I guess it's high time I wrote something, even if I don't really have much to write.
And honestly, I haven't been doing much at all these days. So much so that some of the texts and chat lines that I got during my "long absence" from the virtual word have actually made me laugh... and wonder.
Yes, I know what you're thinking right now: Huh? But, wait... I'll explain. With an example.

XYZ: So what did you do the whole holidays other than reading books? You seem really busy all the time.
Me:    No, not really. But right now I am.
XYZ: Poh. Doing all top secret things only...
Me:    Hey...! What top secret things will I do?
XYZ: Oh I don't know. Maybe you decided to slog 11th portions completely and be secret about it and come back to school being all genius.

Now multiply this kind of a conversation by 2.. or 3... or 4. You get the idea? So maybe it's time I took a break from being... net-free.
Well, not that I am going to remain non-net free for long. After school reopens, I am going to have a pretty tight schedule ahead of me. All work, no play. What fun!

To tell you all frankly, I find myself spending more and more time killing mosquitoes. (Yes, I really did write that). I have no idea why and how, but somehow, these parasites seem to multiply like bacteria -especially in the past few days. Living in the ground floor doesn't help at all. And after seven years in the same house, yesterday was the day when the first Mosquito bat and Odomos tube made its way inside, and they're being used to the maximum.

But the uppermost thoughts in my mind these days have been about the results and admission. The former worry is over now, but the other... well, we'll see. Part of me (a very tiny part) is excited about school this year while another is absolutely dreading it. The third part wants to pack my laptop, jump into the time travelling machine and go to the 11th century or something, where people surely didn't have to worry about CCE, global warming and terrorists - though I'm not sure what our ancestors will think of webcams and pop music, and I'm really, really not sure of what I'll think of chamber pots.


I think I can go on and on about this without getting anywhere- but I have to stop right now. Tomorrow is kind of a "big day" and I have to set the alarm clock before I forget about it while trying not to worry too hard.
Wish me luck!

Signing off (with fingers crossed),

Charu

Change is here!

Hm... why does the above title sound so much like a well-known Ad? Is it one?
Well, I wouldn't know anyway. My TV watching has deteriorated to a huge extent. Before you start rolling your eyes, let me explain...
Last night, the TV wouldn't switch on when I used the remote (something I did after weeks and weeks). I tried more than a couple of times and gave up; and then went on to check the TV connections; wasting some time fiddling with the wires and checking the plugs. Then I tried again.
I stepped close, till we (the TV and I) were nose-to-nose, and tried a few more times. No luck. Then I went through the customary tapping-the-remote-a-couple-of-times routine and trying again, with no result.

Enter the TV (watching) expert. My famed Sister, whom I have mentioned (more than) a few times before. 'It's not working!' I complained verbally, pointing to the remote. My sister came close and asked me to try again. I pressed the button more than once for her benefit. Looking up, I could see the You-are-hopeless look on her face. Then I looked down at the remote.
I was pressing the Mute button all the time.


     After boring all of you with this pointless incident, I should probably not tell you that this isn't what I had in mind when I came online to write this post.
Those who are reading this blog not for the first time would have noticed a few many changes, starting with the Template and Ending with the addition of a few more things (and some incredibly cool fonts I failed to see the first time I edited my blog).

I decided to put in a few more gadgets, which, along with my posts, I can edit from time to time, like the List.  I'm also thinking of adding a Blog Status-like thing. And maybe a Poll too. Or will that be a bit too much?

What say, Readers?

Lazy Afternoons

Phineas and Ferb just rocks, don't you think? (WARNING: Anti-P&F fans, skip these three paragraphs!) I somehow feel that it's just not fair to air P&F all through the year and make me wish for Summer every single rainy day.

They Rock!

But now that summer's here, I find myself saying this every day: "What to doo, what to doo... What to doo today?" (Phineas style.)
Now, I wish I could build robots, roller coasters and have my own circus. But most of all, I want my own pet platypus. (Yes, you heard me right!)
If I told this to my parents, the convo. would probably go like this*:

Me: Mom! Dad! I want a pet platypus!
Parents: A platypus? But why? Pets need a lot of caring, you know..
Me: That won't be a problem. It's a platypus. It doesn't do much..!
Parents: Ah..a lot like you, then. Personally, we don't think we can stand adding another animal into this zoo. Two is more than a handful, if you ask us.
Sis: Yeah, I know. I've had a hard time listening to them all day... If I had animals, I would get younger ones..
Parents: Hey!

Hm.. probably not a good idea. But apart from not having a pet platypus, I also happen to have nothing to do. In the afternoons; especially in the afternoons. And that's the whole problem. Looking around me, everybody seems to have something to do! Except me.

If you ask the bulls and cows and dogs and the platypuses in the neighborhood, they will have just one thing to say: "Sleep, dude!" (Provided I have a translator who understands Dog, Cow and Platypus).
Well, sleeping is definitely NOT in my agenda (for reasons which I will disclose later) and anyway I don't think animals have much else to do. At least, that's what I've inferred from watching the watchman's dog.

Or, I could imitate my sister. (Note: She isn't an animal. She is an extra-terrestrial being which landed in the maternity ward twelve years back when her spaceship failed. She's staying on because (a) Her spaceship isn't fixed yet, (b) she gets free food, courtesy: parents and (c) She is allowed to have unlimited access to the television) Yes, if you have read the bracket contents, you would've guessed it. I could spend the whole afternoon having my eyes glued to the TV screen and backside to the sofa seat, and shush-ing everyone who dares to talk in between. (Well, I would just shush. My sister would leave that person fearing for his/her life.)
Ah, probably the above sentence - enclosed in brackets - is reason enough why I can't be a TV-holic. Also, my house happens to have just one TV, and I would hate to feel endangered.

Probably the best option would be to curl up with a book (no, strike that; it's too hot to curl up) and, of course, read it. Which leads to the question - Why am I wasting time, talking about not doing anything when I can actually do something?. I honestly can't think of an answer to this, but maybe... this is what I should do... Make up speeches or posts on pointless topics to entertain (or eradicate) my readers.



Signing off,

(With a toast to productive summer afternoons)

Charu

*this conv. will take place (I can guarantee that) provided we have platypuses in abundance in Chennai, its population competing with that of stray dogs and crows.

Some people really mess it up!

Well, I can't believe that I am writing yet another post. This is the third post in a week, I think, and I hope I keep this pace up, especially after the lag between some of my older posts. What brought about me writing this one was something that I came across on the internet, which lead to a thought:
Something that is necessary in all professionals is professionalism, and being unprofessional can really, really tarnish a person's reputation/image. (In a few minutes you'll get what I'm saying.)

Well, all those who look through blogs would have noticed a Navbar (that's the name for it) on top, where you can see a link saying Next Blog >> . From time to time, whenever I want to see some other person's writing, or if I'm just bored, I take a look at whatever random blog I am linked to.
That's when I somehow stumbled upon this. Some of you might have heard about the "Author attacks reviewer" incident, and some might have not (I didn't) so those who have no idea what I'm talking about can refer to this link before reading the rest of this blogpost (Make sure you read some of the comments): Link

The link leads to a post of a review of Jacqueline Howett's book (which I haven't read and about which I know nothing except what was written in the review) by Books and Pals. 

When I read this, I was shocked by Howett's behavior. It was totally unprofessional and uncalled for. The person who gave the review presented his opinion in a honest yet professional manner, while the author did exactly the opposite. It was rude, childish (telling the reviewer that he did a "booboo") and very, very inane. Most of all, it was unprofessional.
It didn't do her any good either. After the three 4 and 5 star posts (which she copy-pasted from Amazon to prove that at least three people liked it) she has been receiving a long string of 1 and 2 star reviews, of which some, more than the book, criticize her for her uncalled behavior. (This is true, because I checked Amazon myself.). My guess is that most of them went straight from Al's blog to Amazon just to give the reader a dose of what she needed.
What she did on that blog was self-destructive, and may even cost her her career.
One other big mistake she made was posting all this on a public blog, on the internet. When it's in written, it's there forever. Even if someone says something it might be forgotten. This won't be.

I would, however, like to thank her for one thing. Apart from the initial shock, I got a good laugh from her senseless and childish commenting. Writing something isn't child's play (I have a rough idea of that) but criticism will always be present and, in my opinion, it should be taken in the right spirit and the negatives as something to be remedied in the future. 

This was just an example of unprofessional-ism I wanted to give, but somehow I ended giving this a lot of space. In our country, I think this is more common.

Politics is one huge example. Here, being unprofessional is not an exception, it is the norm.
Throwing chairs and tantrums in the parliament? Not a big deal.
Pudgy politician screaming and breaking pots just because things didn't go her way? That headline appeared ages ago.
Now, a straightforward one? That is an exception. And given the state of affairs, he wouldn't last long.

A writer being unprofessional may result in damage of his/her career. But politicians? Their unprofessional behavior is not only appalling and embarrassing to look at, but also damages the image of their whole party, and not that person alone.
Not that I'm interested in dissecting every action of every politician to be kept for further scrutiny and discussion. This was just a thought.

With Aimless Musings,

Charu

Nail it down!

10 years back...

Me: (fidgeting)

Dad/Mom: Hold Still! Don't you see what I'm trying to do?!

(I continue to fidget)

Dad/Mom: Wait...wait.... Don't move... I can't see what I'm doing!

Me: I am not moving!

Dad/Mom (I will use "Parent" from now on, it's shorter): You are blocking the light. Move a little this way...

Me: Fine (moves a little)

Parent: Okay. Stay still. Don't move. I can't see where... oh, okay. This is fine.

Me: *shriek* *scream* *shriek* *scream* *shriek* *scream* *cry*

Parent: Uh-oh....eh.. sorry. Does it hurt?

Me: *shriek* *scream* *shriek* *scream* *shriek* *scream* *cry*

Well, you don't need to break your head figuring what it is about.

Its about the things that scrape the keyboard every once in a while when you type. Its about the things used by the half lion-half man to tear apart the stomach of a demon..... Yes.. its about nails. (after all this exaggerated suspense I'm sure you will be banging your head on the hardest wall you can find)

And the event I just described? Pretty much every Sunday used to go like this till I turned 11. The "dreaded tool" was the nail clipper, which, despite how carefully used, never failed to inflict wounds; which lead to what I could call ... The Nail-Cutting phobia.

Back to the present....

Well, some of the people who have noticed have always asked me: "Why do you have your nails so long? How come you never cut them?" and I answer with a careless shrug and say, "I forget." And that ends it. Though part of my answer is true, the bigger part of it is that I hate the whole nail-cutting process.

Well, the problem does lie in my nails. You do know the line right? The one which separates the Cut-able portion of the nail and the other part which is attached to the flesh? That line is kind of extremely faint in my case, which makes it nearly impossible to see where to clip the nail.
My parents like it short. Short short. And they end up cutting it a bit too far. As a result, when I was old enough to cut my nails, I didn't.
Of course, I don't mean that I have never ever done it in the past 4 or so years, but I try to avoid it as far as possible.

Have you seen people whose nails grow shorter, and though you ask them whether they have cut their nails, they give a "No." ? Well, after my observations, I have classified them under Nail Group Number 1.

Nail Group Number 1 - The Biters

These are the people who you see chewing on their nails every time they are anxious, going through a difficult math problem, an interesting train of thought, or maybe just for the vicious satisfaction of tearing them apart. Also, these people never need to worry about cutting their nails every week or so.

Nail Group Number 2 - The Sinceres

These people are the ones you can see holding out their neatly trimmed and filed nails for the teacher's examination every Monday at school, and getting rewarded a gold star, too. You can never spot them having even a millimeter of nail length above the line (which I have discussed in detail above), and so they have to cut their nails every week, sometimes more than once.

Nail Group Number 3

I haven't titled this one because it's just a bit too long. The members of this group are the people who cut off all their nails, save one or two - for some purpose which I haven't yet found. Members of this group are mostly shopkeepers, as far as I have seen. And the nail which they do not cut will be a two-inch long, massive one which draws the eye often.

Nail Group Number 4 - The Show-offs

These are the ones which have the longest nails. They are super-long, super-manicured, super-polished, super-shaped, super-filed and super-red/black/purple nails. People having these nails take extreme care to maintain these - weekly visits to the beauty parlor; and equal care to show them off - like making excessive hand gestures to draw your attention to their fingernails and away from their meaningless talk.

Now where do I belong in these four categories? Nowhere!
Parents made sure that I never bite my fingernails. I don't cut them regularly, don't grow only one, and don't do manicures. In fact, I don't even like having excessively long nails. I know that having them so long isn't so good, which is why I take the pains (not literally) to keep them extremely clean.

And it's not like these have gone unnoticed. I have frequently gotten compliments from group 1 and 2 which run along the lines of "Wowww... cuuute!" which makes me think: What is cute about fingernails?!
Even strangers have commented on them: girls sitting next to me asking where I go for manicures, even suggesting good places (A friend of mine said that there is this place in .. where you get really cheap and awesome manicures) even though I haven't so much as said a word to them. I've even gotten step-by-step instructions on how to shape them (You should move the file in one direction, like this...)! And I'd never known girls would check out other girls' fingernails...
To me, all of this seems a bit too unnecessary for a collection of dead cells which keep growing whether you want it or not. And I don't.

Forgetfulness, the smaller part of it doesn't help either. Sometimes my fingernails grow a bit too long and end up breaking, which is as painful as cutting them badly. Even now, every single time I cut my nails, I have to force myself to keep them straight and proper, and not shake. But my fingers have a mind of their own, which results in disaster.

However, after all this ranting you might be wondering what brought this on. Well, I guess I should tell you now, after subjecting you to all this. It was a successful, painless and quick nail cut. The next time I hurt myself, I can read this and know that I was successful in this at least once. (At the same time, I hope that will never happen, and today wasn't an exception!)

I know I should put a photo to increase the post's popularity, but I draw the line there (or maybe it's just because I haven't taken such a photo yet). Also, one thing which I have definitely learnt from this experience is that people are just too conscious about everything regarding a person's looks, when they go as far as to check a stranger's nail fashion.
And before I go on pondering along these lines, I should remember to tell all of you to leave a few comments regarding what you think.

...Is this friendship?

If there is one thing I don't like, it is Hypocrisy. And pretense. Well, that makes two things, but they sometimes are closely related.
The reason why I am writing this is, well... have you ever got the feeling that some people - who talk with you, laugh at your jokes, and are outwardly good friends - do not actually like you though they pretend to do?
Well, I have. And I am sure I'm not the first to think so. It's not as if I'm a complete stranger to all this- it is frequently seen everywhere. ("Wow.. look at both of them... I never had such a good friend when I was like her..." "You actually believe that they like each other?! No way. It's obvious that both of them wouldn't like anything better than to tell on the other person... which, believe me, has already happened.." Not exactly like this, but on these lines..)
In fact, even I have been accused of doing so.

Let me make one thing clear- I like bluntness and honesty. I prefer it to all the sugar-coated lies and smoothing over that other people do. And when I treat a person whom I personally don't like well - it is out of common courtesy and not because I'm trying to pretend to be that person's really good friend just because he/she has good social connections/looks/popularity/(fill in other silly reasons..)...
However, this certainly does not mean that I go to every single person I don't like and go scream in their faces about what I hate about them (though sometimes I have been tempted to!). Luckily, the number is extremely small- so even if I did there would be little chance of a sore throat later on....

One of my faults (or so I've heard) is trusting people and what they say too easily. Even knowing it, this is probably a practice(?) which I haven't yet stopped. (People in doubt can always ask my bench mates who would only be too happy to give their testimonies (read exaggerated versions).)
And the worst thing about this? When you trust people enough to tell them something you would have never even thought of telling someone else, and later finding it spread all over, and finding that it was that person who actually did it, and not someone else's "lucky guess" as you hoped in the first place.

I know that this is getting a bit emotional, but this is actually what I feel. Pretending to like someone isn't going to get you anywhere; after sometime true thoughts will show. That is inevitable.
Friendship is something which should be based upon true liking and willingness to help each other out; not backstabbing and pretense.

I remember once seeing this quote somewhere on the internet.. and thinking of how true it was:

"Some people are like pennies: two-faced and worthless..."

Have a good day! 

The race for survival (slash getting on the train) - Part II

The big problem of the small bag :)

Sowmya, Siva and I try to push through the unyielding crowd at the entrance. People who didn't get their tickets still sit in the reserved compartments and do not move. I look around for the teachers. They are all comfortably seated in compartments in the middle of the coach.
The three of us can hear the travel instructor shouting; telling us to sit down and ask the others to go. We move through the crowd and sit down in free seats closest to the door; with me sitting next to the window.
          I have a hard time putting my luggage in the rack above my head- my hands are shaking violently. Behind me, I can hear Sowmya crying as silently as she can, and I remember again. The bag she left.
Sowmya's whole luggage consisted of this one medium-sized bag. Now, with my own trolley bag and backpack, I remember asking her during our first day how she managed to fit everything in. To which she replied, "It actually didn't fit. I had to squash everything in." Luckily, only that one bag was left in the station.
Everywhere around me, people check if all their friends/ classmates/  roommates / in-charge teacher (though no problems there) are inside the train. Behind me, some guy picks up a fight with the instructor, who is suddenly throwing out threats. People could be missing, and this is what they do.

I focus on Sowmya. She is making up her mind whether to call her mother or not. I ask her to make the call; and I'm faced by a chorus of a violent "No!" from the others. I try calling my Dad. The number is switched off. Then I get a Low Battery alert. I swear silently. Nothing is going well.
Two seconds later, my phone beeps.

1 missed call

Ramupa

I'm like "Huh?".... why should my cousin's Grandad call me? I leave the matter to slide. More important things are going on now...
        Meanwhile, Sowmya calls her Mom. A minute later, she ends the call, saying, "I got nice blastings from her..."  Then she turns to me and says, "There is a chance that my bag is with someone else, in another coach. The man who pushed me in said he'd give it to someone."
I say nothing, but I think that it was a very slim chance for what she said to be true. But something is still bothering me. Why should Ramupa call me now? I had just got my mobile.
And then it hit me. And I felt like hitting myself too. Hard. On the head; repeatedly. Suraj- my cousin- was using his Grandfather's number. I had stupidly saved the number in his grandfather's name, although knowing that only Suraj used it.
And he had called me. Now, when six people were missing. And I didn't hear.
I call him. The line gets disconnected immediately, and the Low Battery sign pops up again. So I send him a message.

Call me

I look at my mobile intensely, hoping that he gets it soon. Within a minute, I get a call from him.
"Hello!" I scream into the phone. I can hear someone talking, but I can make nothing out of it. I make out one word: bag. "You have Sowmya's bag?!?" I shout. From the corner of my eye, I can see Sowmya look at me like someone who has just got their whole life back. I wait for an answer.
Some more sounds, then I hear the word waiting. Uh-oh. I am scared now. "Waiting?" I shout. "In the platform? You have her bag!?" I ask, hoping that I can make out whatever answer he gives. As if on cue, the line disconnects. I swear again, and this time not too silently. From the next compartment, I hear my classmates' whispers. All of them are looking at me. Shrinithi's eyes are round, and she asks:
"Who was it?"
"My cousin, Suraj," I answer, trying to make a call again.
"Oh God, Oh God, OHGOD! I am sure that he is in the platform!!!!" She declares.
If I'd had superglue, I would've used it on her.
But I don't have the full story yet. I quickly grab Swati's cellphone and make a call. Busy. Sowmya's. The line goes, disconnects. I take my own cellphone, intending to send another message. That's when I see:

1 new message

Ramupa

I open it and read the message out loud.

We are6 of us in 13 coach we have sowmyas bag

"Yes!" I cry out. All around me in the compartment, people are giving "phew"s and "yay"s. "Habba," Sowmya says. She wipes her eyes.

I look around for a teacher. Revathi ma'am is near. I call her and quickly inform her that 6 are in the next coach. I see relief on her face and the Instructor's and immediately know that those who were thought missing were there. Just as she tells Kavitha ma'am, Vishwesh comes up to them and tells the names of those who were stuck in the next coach.

Some time later, the train stops in the next station. From my place, I can clearly see the six people getting down from the next compartment. The last one is Suraj. He has three bags; one of them Sowmya's. When they get into our coach, everybody gets up and shouts, "Suraj!" and claps. Sowmya thanks him again and again. As for me, I'm relieved it's all over and everybody's safe in the train.

So now, I have an awesome story to tell. Hair-raising, but with a happy ending.
But what some of us didn't know was that there was more to come.

The race for survival (slash getting on the train)

It all starts with a saying. In this case, what Sowmya said. We were both talking about general things when she suddenly says, "Hey, Sharada, the trip has been fun.... but I want something adventurous to happen." At my eye-rolling she adds: "Adevnturous; but not dangerous..."
If I had the power to rewind maybe I would've just clapped my hand over her mouth before she spoke. Or maybe not. Her saying this lead the incident.



  Some two hours later we reach the Salem station to board the train for Chennai. After a delay of an hour or so, I hear the sound of the train arriving and the travel-guy's instructions for boarding the train quickly. Students and teachers crowd the entries. I go to the last entrance of D-12, my coach, and suddenly stop and stare. The whole coach was occupied. Not a single seat was left out. My mind bombarded itself with questions: Is this really my coach? Is this even the correct train?? But then people are getting in, and so I gear myself too.

But I (and some others) are in for a nasty surprise. The train starts. Some aren't even in yet. By the time Anjanaa gets in, the train starts picking up speed. I jog to keep up, my heart racing. My palms are sweaty, and my backpack slides off my shoulder onto my hand. My other hand is fully occupied with the huge and heavy trolley which is seriously hampering my speed.
Behind me, Siva says casually: "Hey, maybe the train is just moving to another platform or something. It'll stop soon....." What I really wanted to do then was to go and shout at her: "Are you mad?! Either way, I am getting on the train."
  Somehow I get a hold on one of the handles of the compartment. I can hear Anjanaa screaming my name from inside. I need more support to haul myself in but my other hand is occupied and I'm still running. Dimly, in the back of my mind, a thought tells me that if I fall, I'll get seriously injured. Adrenaline surges in. Somehow, I get a better hold on the handle, put one foot on the steps and throw myself inside. The crowd milling at the entrance prevents me from falling. 
Meanwhile, Siva has just come to her senses. She is finally running, and lagging behind. I do my heroic action for the day. I stretch my hand sideways and out, and pull her inside.Siva saved.
 A second later, Sowmya practically falls on both of us inside the train. She looks at her empty hands in shock. "My bag...." she says. "I left it in the platform." She bursts into tears.

Some Adventure.