I blinked and the world was gone.

What was an itinerary for a supposed event suddenly turned into reality. The dates circled at the back of a school diary during chemistry class morphed into palpabale days.

The sun actually rose, and my phone read 20th November, 2015.

The thing most fascinating about a dream-come-true situation is the dream like quality the day gets shaped into.

I’m lying now in an exceedingly dirty sleeper class bunk of a train moving inexorbitantly over tracks that were more bumpy than your average teenage life.

One of my classmates( one of those girls who find it impossible to shut up even in the pitch dark of a train filled with strangers trying to sleep) is jabbering away in the top most bunk.

A part of my mind registered someone had used an annoyingly strong perfume. Some strangers in the next cubicle were laughing like thugs.

And me?

I’m still not sure all of this is real.

My mind is walking the walk, talking the talk, but it seems too much like an elaborate dream.

Of course, no dream is complete without a sense of claustrophobia. This is one where my best friend is asleep right above my face, separated by a suspended iron bunk the bottom of which seems eerily like the underside of a coffin.

I was wrong, the quiet murmurs weren’t as eery as the dead silence that pervades the night right now.

The train is slowly gaining speed, and the only movement is the constant whir of a fan, and the faint snores of passengers.

A man keeps patrolling with a lamp, I’ve seen him seven times already.

The last time I switched my torch on, there was a small cockroach running across the bunk above my face.

But I’m still excited.

In an unnerving, constant itch like way, I was excited.

Screaming from the rooftops while ripping- my -shirt- off-like -tarzan excited.

But my face remains impassive, because of that sense of disjointed reality.

My eyelids are heavy with sleep, but I cannot bring myself to relax in such a strange environment. Plus, so much swaying.

I shouldn’t have eaten so much dinner.

The thing about life is, you can switch perspective very easily.

Right now, my mind is torn between being deeply poetic about a train snaking through cold tracks in the dead of night and the mystery that is hope.

I also want to sleep and dream with my mouth agape ( but thanks to the cockroach situation that’s not an option. )

I can think about people who incite certain emotions with me.

Or just say fuck it and go off to sleep.

I think I’ll just stare at nothig for the rest of the night.

It’s going to be a long one.

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