Mystic Riders

I wanted to become a wish maker … like one of those mystic men from my childhood. I had no hope of saving my life, I admit it; I am the greatest fear for my own self….The coolie in a sun-bleached shirt, showed me the platform where the train will arrive and then asked, “Need some hand? It only stands here a minute.”“I will manage on my own.” Luggage was not the problem; I was carrying few cloths and my camera in a rucksack. The train grounds to a halt and buffers clanked. Suddenly the whole platform became alive, as if it was sleeping till now. Suitcases began magically appearing on the platform. I stepped inquiringly inside the train, although I am used to partings and reunions I felt someone I knew was standing on platform. Aloofly the dusty carriages set off in some unknown direction.So there it was, seat number 27, upper berth. With all those last night farewell parties, the only thing I wanted to do was grab my place and sleep….“Watch out, mister, there’s something breakable here…” So I was still there … no river, no trees, not even a scribbled line of poetry…. The whole compartment seems to be in complete chaos, it seemed end of the world was at hand. Passengers of all ages, making friendly comments: “how about a cup of tea?” “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” Some with “maybe, you could find place to put them?” And few “why, of course!!!” and “why haven’t you ever thought of this before?”Excellent!!! The whole place seems to be like an aquarium full multi-colored magical strokes of humanity. Yes, one thing was sure, there was everything except water… and certainly enough sand for a shifting sand dune. By noon the wind would be scorching hot and there would not be a patch of shade anywhere. In weather and surroundings like these, it’s simply essential for me to be able to sit by water and see some greenery.“There’s a half-desert.” The two little girls traveling next to me were having an argument about whether there’s a real desert on the way. “A what?” Poor little girls were pretty confused with my curiosity and ignorance answered me “a real desert with mirages, sand-dunes, camels and real spiders.” Well!! I realized the motto of the geography textbooks taught in schools ‘confuse a person if you can’t convince’. The older one jumped from her window seat “see that?” Miles and miles of sands, “its quite common in these part of the country,” I replied in a nonchalant tone. “No, you are wrong… take a better look.” An ordinary looking bush with leaves was poking through the surface. That little girl determined to help me with my geography continued, “There’s something growing in it.”“Come here now…” their mother called them impatiently. That little girl looked at me “that’s the only thing that can stop shifting sand, I think you will finds few more on way.” Ok!! Good-bye and thank you. Now, I have this window all for myself. I stared with great respect at those remarkable desert bushes whose miserable looking branches were growing…. Growing to tell stories that intertwine us along those millions of sand grains shifting from place to place. There are stories, too many, to reveal secrets… stories about things seen differently. With jostling of the improbabilities inside me I can see repetitions and beginning of remaking of my life…