The second part of the trilogy 'AN EXPLORER'S PARADISE' :

THE WOODS 

                                 Photo source: Pinterest

As the unannounced invader beat against the window, Karthik and Dhruv searched for their seats amongst the crowd pouring in and out. The crammed up space seemed to be empty as the passengers left the room, yet their seats weren't to be found anywhere. 

“Uncle, did you not book your ticket?” Dhruv asked, scratching his head. 

“I did, and don’t call me uncle. It makes me feel old, and I ain’t that old. Besides, I have a ticket. Where is yours?” 

“I thought you booked them!” he yelled. 

“We met thirty minutes ago! How would I have possibly booked two tickets for a single passenger?” Karthik laughed. 

“Great, now I am going to get a fine.”

“Relax. The train won’t leave for another ten minutes. Run up to the counter and get one, bribe them if they won’t let you.” 

“Good idea,” he said, as he ran out the door. It was the ultimate fool proof plan for any traveller in India. First request, then plead and at last, offer some money. 

The faded letters on the seat resembled the numbers on Karthik’s ticket. He dusted off the grill above him and placed his bag, waiting for the minion to arrive. He saw a silhouette approach him, and now he could see him clearly, drenched in the rain. “Did you get your ticket?” 

“Ticket price and a thousand bucks. This is why this land will never grow,” the spirited youth in him spoke. 

   

                                                    ****

“So, where is this explorer’s paradise?”  Dhruv asked. The empty streets of Assam accompanied by the Golgappa vendors looked beautiful under the night sky. 

“Only one way to find out, by exploring.” 

“So you are going to explore the whole of Assam?” 

“No, we will ask the street vendors and the people here. They must know something.”

“Then why don’t you search the internet?”

“You sure does ask a lot of questions,” Karthik grinned. “See, in the internet if you search something, images of the place start popping up. And I don’t want to see that. I want the sight of the woods to take my breath away.” 

“What if there are wild animals?” Dhruv asked. 

“We are wild enough.” 

“What if they chase us?”

“We run.”

“What if they kill us?” 

“We die,” he laughed again. “I am intrigued by your questions. Is this what your kind of people do?” 

“We generally ask Google all the questions.”

“Are you satisfied with the answer you get?”
“Of course,” Dhruv exclaimed. 

“Let me ask you a question. Which is the best way to be happy? I’ll give you ten minutes to Google it and tell me the answer.” 

“Sure.” He started fiddling on his phone, as the elder man explored the streets bathed in moonlight. 

While Karthik checked into a room for his night crash, Dhruv stayed in the lobby, searching for the answer. 

“Time is up. Now tell me honestly, did you find an answer that was satisfying to you?” 

“Yes, I can be happy by travelling.” 

“Mhm, so you are travelling, someone stole all your money and you have no place to stay and you are swarmed by mosquitoes. Will you be happy?” 

“Umm..” 

“I thought so too. See, what there is on the internet is not always the answer you are looking for. You have to experience it to find the answer.”

“I get your point, but do you know the answer?”

“I am still trying to find out, offline of course.” 

“When do we sail the ship?” 

“Seven in the morning. Goodnight kid.” 

                                                                                             ***

The morning glow wasn’t bright, nor was the light in Dhruv’s eyes. As his eyes half opened while climbing the hills, Karthik tracked the path with marks, so they could return the next day without getting lost. The half grown grass and the full grown men chased the hill, looking for the prettiest spot in the hill. 

“Are you all kids lazy in the morning?” Karthik asked, eyeing the tired Dhruv. “It is seven thirty and you are not even breathing properly. You should know that I am not carrying an oxygen tank.” 

“I am starting to get used to the elder men’s life. Don’t judge me on being slow.” 

“You better learn fast, because in about an hour, we will be climbing higher.” 

Hollow Cove’s ‘The Woods’ played on the speaker as they went up. For the each beat, they took a new step, and the sun took a step down. The hope in finding the woods seemed to be fading as there were no trees, only bushes where no one dared to hide. Karthik’s nightmare was beginning to take shape. 

“What is your worst nightmare?” he asked Dhruv, who was busy untangling his earphones. 

“Um, the fear of losing a job?” 

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fear much in particular. I know it sounds fake, but I never had lost anything in life.”

“Not even a girlfriend?” Karthik smiled. 

“No, because I never had one. What about you? Where is your family?”

“I never got married.”

“Fear of commitment?”

“No, the joy of being a loner hooked me up. The single path has so many routes. I could die the next second, and no one would know.” 

“What about the thrill of leaving a mark on the earth?” 

“We all leave a mark on the earth when we are born. Everyday we leave a mark, maybe not on the road, not on the hills. I might have helped someone in need, and must have left a mark there.”

“I see,” he replied, being entertained by a wise man’s words. “Speaking of which, I think we are lost. And we have found the woods.”

Photography: F.S. 

“Oh wow,” Karthik gasped, as his eyes laid on the sight before him. The tall trees colouring the sky green, and the dark mist covering their eyes. The rustle of them were so quiet and eerie, he believed they were the only one around the woods. The explorer’s paradise he was looking for could be this, unless he found something more prettier, more wider, more miles to explore. But for all he knew in that exact moment, with a boy with the will to be inspired, this was his paradise. The explorer in him joyed, as the human in him worried. 

“What do we do know?” Dhruv asked, eyeing the empty path that ended a few feet away. 

“We camp. And we return tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you scared?” 

“No,” Karthik smiled. “The most dangerous creature in this place are us now. We have invaded the secret paradise of the animals. And this place will remain a secret between us.”

Karthik and Dhruv, each other’s hands on the other’s shoulder, enjoyed the view before them, as the band sang, “And we all sit around the fire, we feel so much better now.” 

The third trilogy from F.S. Enjoy story number one as we bring you the next one, next week.

Photography: Kevin Sreenath 

THE RIGHT TRACK

It was a dream of his to find the explorer’s paradise. It was all he lived for. Working for 30 years in a company he had no interest in was to earn the interest offered by the bank for the huge sum he deposited at the end of the month. Travelling back and forth on trains, rickshaws and cycles, all he wanted to find was that paradise that wasn't listed on the internet. A computer technician then, and all the technical skill he needed now was the ability to photoshop. 

The station was busy with its regular schedule of late trains and homeless men. As he sat back on the cold steel chair whose only intention was to make banking suffer, the one thing that caught his attention were the two class of people. One: Willing to work in anyway possible by lending out magazines, a hot cup of chai and magazines; two: trying to find a job, desperately failing everyday and making them beg for a day’s meal. Of all the stations and all the stands, this sight was familiar. And with that familiarity came a worry of him foreseeing his future. Would that be him? Was the plan he has been carrying since the day he started dreaming a fatal one? 

The distant blare of the horn was now clear. As the crowd shuffled to the edge of the platform, where the wind from the moving bogeys would sweep them away, only one person stood back. A boy with freckles on his cheek and shabby hair. A boy with fear in his eyes. A regular boy.

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“You are not going to make it in the world alone!” Papa’s voice was clear and loud to Dhruv. Yet, he held onto the hope of escaping. 

“Just two weeks Papa! I just need a break from all these!” he yelled, showing him the binder folders with notes and interview sheets. 

“You are not going anywhere young man,” the military commander in him woke. “You are staying put, and you are going for the interview.”

“But the interview is two months away! I have been busting off day and night for months. I swear I am going alone; no friends, nothing. Just two weeks. Please!

All that awaited him was the sound of the lock turning as his father stepped out of the room. The commander has spoken. Now it was the duty of the soldier to break the rules for his own sake. 

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Three trains have come and passed, but he and the boy stayed put. Awkward glances were shared in between, but none of them spoke. It was the number one rule we were all taught: never speak to strangers. The fifty year old and the twenty five year old abided to the rules, until the little soldier in him became a rebel. 

Dhruv walked to the chair the man in a brown torso and black t-shirt was sitting on. Two empty seats beside him, and Dhruv chose the one in the end, maintaining a distance. 

“Hello,” the man spoke up. He replied in a nod. “Where are you off to?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Thought so, you don’t seem to have enough baggage and you seemed terrified. I am Karthik, by the way.”

“Dhruv,” he said as he nodded, acknowledging his words. “Where are you off to?” 

“In search of the woods. I am starting in Assam.”

“You could just search in google,” Dhruv said, taking out his phone. “I could do that for…”

“Don’t bother, I am looking for one that is not listed in there. An explorer’s paradise is what I’d like to call it.”

“You sound like you travel a lot.”

“All that you can explore is all that is there. All that is there is for you to explore, to wander, to create.” 

“Whose words?” Dhruv asked, impressed. 

“A wanderer’s,” Karthik smiled. “I have told you my part of story. Let me hear yours!”

 “It’s the story of every twenty year old’s. The world is ready for us to conquer it, but our swords are yet to be sharpened. I needed a break from all the knots, so I took off from home to… travel, I guess.” 

“You sound like an explorer. A traveller without a destination,” Karthik began. “Conquer them with thoughts, not weapons.”

“But my Papa believes in weapons. He used to be in the army.” 

“True army man,” Karthik smiled. “What you see when you travel, it is something that has not been scripted in any textbooks. It has to be felt, not taught. Yet, we are bound by shackles of hopes. Break them when you can. I spent all my age earning so that I could travel, and here I am sitting next to a dreamer, waiting for my next train to come. And this all happened because I kept a reality check. Although, I don’t blame you for what you are doing now. Everyone deserves a break.” 

Dhruv let the words sink in, as he saw the next train approaching. 

“That’s my ride,” Karthik stood up. “And since you don’t have a destination, you can come with me if you don’t mind travelling with a stranger.”

Dhruv stood up with him, checking his wallet with little money and no luggage. “Are you sure?” 

“Why not? An explorer’s paradise is to be explored by many, not just one. We could be the beginners!” 

“And maybe, a twenty five year old and a fifty year old can make history,” Dhruv spoke up. 

“This is why I like young people. They can find spark in the rain.”

HELLO, CONSCIENCE!

It wasn’t a writer’s block, because writer’s block affected those who had a greater sense of imagination. What I liked to call it was ‘immense procrastination’. It wasn’t that I had nothing to write. I had a dozen records to complete, home assignments to look at and a blog that was left out. 

Thursday nights used to be a dream, and now a nightmare. A blog that hasn’t been updated for a while, notes that has to be submitted… and yet, every Thursday night I sat in front of a computer with Microsoft Word open; letting the cursor blink at me. ‘Time to procrastinate,’ my brain said. 

‘Oh, a new story idea. I should probably write it down,’ my mind said but all I could see was a fly dancing around in my room, buzzing in my ears. I’d try to let it go, but then it became a race between mankind and flies; and I, the only warrior. I knew it was time to get the fly-killer bat. 

Holding it in one hand and a story in my brain, I waited patiently and procrastinated, waiting for my arch enemy to arrive. “For the love of God, will you just write down the story in your head?” I heard a voice speak. I knew it wasn’t from anyone that I knew in the house because the only people that stayed up till midnight was me to watch the rerun of a TV series I have watched for so many times that I have lost count. 

“Who’s speaking?” I asked. 

“Your conscience,” the voice laughed. “Who else would have a charming voice?” 

“I thought I killed you with my sense of stupidity,” I told the voice. “What should I call you?” 

“Call me whatever you want,” the voice spoke again. “You can call me Kicha, it’s what I prefer.” 

“Okay Kicha, what can I do to get rid of you?”

“Write that story down. Stop procrastinating.” 

“You sound like an obsessive stalker. How long have you been following me around?”

“All along, dear.”

“Well, why are you talking to me now?” 

“Because I am bored up here. All you do is think about what to write and how to not write. It used to be fun here with all the cliffhangers. There is nothing new.”

“I like to think about what could happen next. That’s kind of why I never write…”

“Oh please!” Kicha yelled. “You are not writing because you are lazy twenty four hours a day, seven days a week!”

“This is starting to get annoying.”

“Well now you know how I feel up here. Really, you need to talk to someone.”

“How about I talk to you?”

“Fair enough. What do you want to talk about?”

“Getting you out of my head tops the list. Can you give me some ideas on that?”  

“Um, no. But I can give you advice on other matters that concern you. Like, your future?”

“What about it?”

“You are scared aren't you? About who you will become?”

“Everyone is scared of that!”

“But you don’t understand that someday what all you write will come to use. It is okay to get confused, but you shouldn’t let it get to you.”

“Like how I let you in?” The conscience never replied. It just left a half smile, and left. To the depth of my brain were nothing much resided. 

The cursor blinked again, so did I. My conscience was a better person than myself. Maybe it was, for everyone out there. 

The cursor blinked again. And this time, I wrote what was in my mind. A conversation with Kicha.