Breakfast Joint Painting

Embarking on a long journey in the sleeper class of a train, tucked in the side lower berth (of course sharing it with a stranger for half of the journey) is how I like to travel. The swinging rhythm, the strange interactions, the plethora of smells, the books with pages curled at the corners, the variety of food, the beggars, the hawkers, observing the behaviour of co-passengers and the sleepless nights... everything has a veneer of adventure. My favourite pass time is to watch the view outside, through the windows of the train. Everything races by in the opposite direction as if fleeing at the news of our arrival. The cities, towns, villages, stations, hills, lakes, rivers, trees, farm lands, bridges, clouds, sun, moon, stars, people... everything rushes by. But sometimes when the train stops, unscheduled, at a remote place between cities or towns and villages, one gets to occasionally observe the undisturbed beauty of nature. Nothing is more refreshing to me after a fidgety night, than the sight of green fields broken by the deep blue creeks dotted with pearly white herons and cranes gathering for their breakfast, washed in the early morning sun light. Sitting huddled on my berth with a cup of steaming tea and a plate of lukewarm ‘puri bhaji’(Indian fried bread and curry), watching these birds search for their early morning meal in the wilderness is an experience I cherish.