In the end, it doesn’t even matter

It was probably one of my best journeys ever. No, it was surely one of my best journeys ever. I was on a train that would reach its final destination in over half a day. I had my coffee, laptop, the scene outside the huge clear glass window was like Narnia. It was white. Everything had snow on it. Snow houses, snow cars, snow pines and snow debris. Snow didn’t bother to shift positions and no one else bothered to disturb it anyway…

…And increasingly I was heading to a place which had scattered houses in places that look inaccessible and make me always wonder who stays there. These houses are all over the world. They are always hanging somewhere on a corner of some cliff or in the middle of a river. They look clean, maintained and inhabited. Few even have the audacity to flaunt drying clothes or a newly delivered letter-but people? You will never see people there. It may very well end up being answer to ‘Who is John Galt!’ some people who boycotted everything for their own sake have made a pact to live in those houses that belong to no one.

Nonetheless, my best journey was on the penultimate day of my leaving Europe. I was already longing to go and couldn’t wait for these two days to be over. My Eurail pass was intact and I was back in Oslo, unable to contain my excitement. I had two days in hand and nothing much to do but wait to be headed back home. That’s when I thought I should do this- leaving anytime, with no reason or intention to reach, choosing a platform at random, catching whichever color train I like, or maybe the train manager (yeah that’s what TT is called there)

So I picked the things I love the most- my laptop, and free coffee tokens of railways that I had accumulated in past nearly three months.

I went with no account of time, boarded a train from platform 9…or was it 10? Train was a little late- very unlike Europe-more so unlike Oslo. But it was more than a fortnight into sub- zero temperature. Tracks were mostly snow covered and its effect had started to show on train timings. I went and sat in my cabin and nicely made my surroundings comfortable. Laptop open, coffee in place and now I could write and write forever. I did write something- I guess on those houses only-but I wonder where that piece lost in my laptop is...

It was that feeling of being deserted. I didn’t have to care about anything. Which station, why, where am I headed. We seldom or never have such journeys in life-except for life itself.

There also we are clueless about where we are headed, where we will reach…except that there we try and tussle to find, here I was enjoying the very fact that I didn’t have to bother about that…and that’s what makes the whole difference. If we just enjoy the music on journey, sip our favorite coffee, writing , or doing whatever we love, without bugging us with the idea of where we are headed, we may not really be sorted in the end, but the journey will be one hell of a ride for sure.

I have no clue...what am I trying to draw here....If I am professing living on the edge or not planning anything in life... I am not thinking about it. I am saying it’s comparable. And I am saying, it’s doable. Why should you always know everything. Which station, which time, how long how often…why should you always know everything, which city, which house, which job, which person?

One life-one journey-one chance- you better love what you do. Does it really matter where you are headed…