I wrote an application to leave the manufacturing practice early on Wednesday. And cycled to the hostel, got ready, packed my bag and left the premises. My train was scheduled at 5:30. I took a taxi at 4:45,I was obviously late. Bad traffic. Everyone was in a hurry. With every passing second, my brain was one step closer to getting burst like a petrol bomb. I was looking out of the window, vehicles running, people crossing roads, bikes and billboards. One about jewellery shop, other was about an upcoming biopic of a cricketer. I was reading everything that came in my eyes’ way. My head was revolving. Okay,  it’s 5:20 and I am still on my way to station. I have to check the platform no.,run to the platform and board the train. Only this will take 5 minutes. Anxiety. Adrenaline. I reached there at 5:24 and ran to platform no. 5. The train was there, I stepped in at 5:28, I was about to die, man. So,  this is what I call Race. Slowly, the wheels started rolling. I felt happy. 


One thought on “Travel… 

  1. Pingback: Home Sweet Home IX | Tales Of Life

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s