The Window Seat Stories

Life indeed is special and it brings us back all the memories we cherished years ago. I was traveling in Mumbai local train when I encountered this beautiful scenario of a boy. Grappling his father’s palms, the boy pulled him with all his might just to grab his attention. His father understood the indication of the window seat. Without having second thoughts, he said,

“Jaa, ubha raha tikde! (Go and stand there!) .

Hearing this, the boy was so elated that he leaped between the barricaded legs of the passengers and grabbed the window. This indicated that he acquired the place for the rest of his journey. This memory took me back to my yesteryears where we all visited our native place back in Chennai to spend our summer holidays.

Those were the times, me and my brother fought aimlessly to win that window seat. Buses, cars, trains – In any transport, there was a wistful connection for the window seat. I guess it was the excitement that gripped our souls. The happiness of the long expressway journeys was beyond measure. The first challenge was to adjudicate who will secure the window seat between the siblings. After a long discussion of convincing speeches for the window seat, our pacifying mother would conclude on using the window seat turn by turn.

The fast paced picturesque streaming in front of my eyes gave me immense pleasure. Racing with the mountains and the vehicles running parallel, a ragged gust of air slapped the face so hard, temporarily changing the shape of the cheeks. Had it not been for the cheekbone, my face would have just ripped off. There were moments when I would receive a bashing for leaning my hand out of the window. However, I would still manage to sneak a moment to fling my hand. Flying out my palms shaped like an aircraft racing against the direction of the wind. Experimenting how fast the wind traveled in reality. Sitting and staring out, it was impossible to decipher the content that I witnessed those days.

The roads to my native carried the fragrance of drenched veranda with the manure to expunge the insects. Placing my head on the iron bars of the window, getting mesmerized in the zephyrs, I enjoyed watching the kids play cricket with the dried coconut branch as the cricket bat. The wooden easy chair where an old grandfather took his afternoon nap with his hands clasped on his chest. A young girl learning to draw traditional rangolis with her mother, young chaps furtively devising a plan to steal the ripe mangoes clung to the tree.

Some moments were horrendous when the winding roads would unwind the intestines in my stomach that ended me to barf. I hated the window seat as well as the journey during such moments. Nevertheless, we all did enjoy that window seat that comforted us in all our emotions – from the happiest to bolster us in the darkest hours. I hope everyone has their own stories of their window seat. And this small story did give you the reminiscences of the past.

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