A New Hope

A sudden, screeching noise and a shocking vibration in my breast pocket woke me up with a start. Even so, I fumbled in the darkness for a few seconds before locating the mobile phone. It was the Rooster Alarm! After hurriedly switching it off before the other passengers start cursing me, I took a moment or two to breathe and come to my senses.

I could still clearly recall the faces of my parents as they waved me goodbye less than 30 hours ago, half happy, half sad, and becoming increasingly smaller. I could tell that the former was for my benefit. There were no such pretenses with my sister – she was close to tears. My own heart, I remember, had been pounding as if I had just gotten off the treadmill after a 20 minute run. And then suddenly - after a second or 100, I couldn't be sure – I couldn't see them anymore. Anyways, all that was 2 nights back. The previous day had hardly registered - I couldn't remember much; I didn't want to.

And then the alarm rang again, and I forced myself to the present.

I realized that I had almost reached my destination. It was still pretty dark outside, and I could make out few outlines of buildings, but I sensed that I was close. Also, the train, which had been slithering along sedately for much of the previous day with its typical rhythmic thuds, suddenly seemed to be in a hurry, not unlike a sprinter within sight of the finish line. Mulund, Nahur, Bhandup, Kanjur Marg - local stations sped past in a blur of black with some dull yellow here and there, and against a backdrop of the faintest hint of navy blue. Or were my eyes not working properly? Daylight was hours away, I estimated. Something about the last station sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't figure out what. I still wasn't fully awake, I realized. The nice lady in the lower berth had given me clear-cut instructions to disembark at Dadar. She must have herself gotten off in Thane – the coach was empty but for me and my luggage.

My luggage!

My God, I’d forgotten all about my luggage! My Adidas backpack and laptop bag included, there were 5 in all! How was I going to get them all out safely onto the platform in the teensy window of time the train would catch its breath at Dadar? I jumped down from my perch immediately, and started pulling out the trolleys – there were 2 – from under the seats. It required some effort. Now for the shoe bag, and the two on my berth I had hugged to sleep last night for fear of theft. The Five were finally out, dusted, and ready to face the busiest, most popular city in the country. I thought I saw Matunga just rush past the window to the right. Time for some final checks before ‘we’ move on – Mobile, check. Earphones, check. Laptop charger, doesn't work anymore, but check. Wallet check. Sweater, check. Sandals, check. Good then, everything was accounted for.

Light Saber, Check!

And not too soon - I could already sense the train slowing down; sounds of tired people, uneven, shaky footsteps and heavy dragging could be heard from either side of my coach. I led my motley crew towards the nearest exit. Even the air-conditioning was fading out, I realized. A sudden sense of claustrophobia gripped me – this was it. This was where all those days of studying and revision and mock tests and application form filling were leading to. I had known that the moment was not that far ever since that magical night when Sriram had phoned me to inform that I’d made it to NITIE. I had seen it all coming, but along those last few steps came a sudden sense of finality that I hadn't prepared for. Couldn't possibly prepare for. This was it.

Almost it, actually. The train was still inching along to the finish line only it could see. There was now a small queue in front of us and a bit larger one behind – sleepy, disgruntled passengers who wanted nothing more than to catch the first taxi home, where a warm, welcoming bed was no doubt awaiting. Not me. I was 1200 kilometers from home, about to set foot in new territory. New, big, mysterious territory that would reluctantly host me for the next 24 months, with neither party unsure of the plans for after. This could be the making or the end of me. I marveled at the calmness of my co-passengers – aren't their hearts racing too?

And then the train screeched to a stop, as if echoing the pain and the fear inside me. The bald guy jumped off first, and the family in front descended onto the platform more gracefully. Their worlds had clearly not just been turned upside down. It was my turn. I struggled to urge my team forward, to those unfairly steep set of 3 steps by the door. The mother turned to look back a second, and my own little farewell scene came crashing down in front of my eyes once again. I couldn't move. Incoherent voices seemed to originate from every which way, and a mass of people were pushing and pulling along noisily in the direction pointed out by the exit signs overhead, but all I could see were the faces of my family. When would I see them again? When did sis stop crying the other night? Are they still asleep now? The people in the queue behind were starting to voice their objection now – they didn't understand. How could they?

They were wookies after all!

An old wizened porter arrived and started negotiating with me in Hindi. Not that it mattered that I didn't understand a word. My throat was parched and dry, and I still couldn't focus away from the sight of mom waving me goodbye. The same mixed expression of part happiness and part sadness etched on her face.

But wait, was there more? I now seemed to detect a distinct shade of hope along with the other two. And was that thing there a faint glimmer of pride? 

And then it hit me. Of course there was both pride and hope in their faces. Had been, all along. Pride that their son was leaving to pursue his MBA in one of the most prestigious institutions the country had to offer, a family first; and hope that the following two years of hardship and separation would turn out to be a worthwhile investment for a better, more prosperous future for each of us. How could I have missed it before? It had been sitting right there in front of me, all along, but I had been too immature to recognize it. And with that epiphany, the cloud lifted.

And I was Bombay-ed properly.

Pulled into all of it - the chaos, the complexity and the commerce that had been renamed Mumbai a few years previously. While the sudden splash of light, sound and people would have disoriented and unsettled me normally, it only served to force me quicker into action that day. It sharpened my focus and cleared the way ahead in my mind. The porter was still talking about the weight (I guessed) involved and money – albeit in the tongue that I’ve always been uncomfortable with. But it didn’t matter. I was ready for him this time around. This was positively easy. “Theek hai, chal!” I confidently told him, with a reassuring nod. He didn’t need another word, and started lifting the biggest trolley bag and placed it carefully on top of his turban.

As he proceeded to the others, I could clearly see where to from there. I was standing at the doorway on a train in Dadar for one, and only one purpose – for my post graduate education. That would hopefully lead to a very good job at the end of 2 years, preferably in Chennai. Even if it didn’t turn out to be my hometown, there was no way that I was gonna leave my folks behind another time. They’re coming along too, wherever it was that my road led to. Of that I was sure. And with that cheerful thought, and driven by a new sense of purpose and direction blazing inside me, I finally took the first steep step down. And then the second. The porter had already started walking with 3 of my team towards the exit.

I looked up at the darkness above and said a silent little prayer - I needed to do this, so God help me. I paused for the briefest of seconds and inhaled the surroundings once. Awesome. And then, with my lips curving into the faintest of smiles, I took off from the 3^rd step and jumped on both feet onto the platform.

So it begins.

This was it. Things would never be the same again. It was 4 am in the morning on the 12^th of June, 2013, in Mumbai, Maharashtra, and the air was thick with rain. I had finally set foot in the arena.

The game, was on!

[This is the first of a 3 part series describing my experiences and emotions on the first day after landing in Mumbai for my PGDIM at NITIE. This has got absolutely nothing to do with Principles of Organizational Management. Sorry Dr. Mandi! The proper blogs will follow.]