“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
(verses from a poem by Emily Dickinson)
My recently concluded trip with friends began on a note of hope and eager anticipation which then turned into a crazy yo-yo between hope and disappointment. All this before we had even embarked on our journey.
My friends were to travel from their city to mine by train, from where all three of us would take the train to our next destination, from where we were to take a cab to our first holiday destination. Our tickets were booked, our cab was arranged, the hotel rooms were confirmed, there was an almost 10 hour gap between their arrival here and the departure of our next train. Ample time to come home, relax and chill a little in between before setting out again.
Then Fate decided to shake things up a bit. Heavy, unseasonal rainfall on the way had caused a river to overflow its banks, the gates of a dam were opened to release the waters which then reached the highway and the railway tracks. All traffic on the road and the rail was stopped. The train my friends were in came to a halt 250 kms from here. That’s it. No one on the train knew when it would move again.
Slowly news began trickling in… of a river flowing dangerously close to the tracks on a major bridge that the trains were to cross. Videos appeared on YouTube showing angry waters surging furiously past the pillars of that bridge. Trains were being made to cross the bridge at a speed of 30 kms per hour. Many other trains were being diverted or terminated. And no one knew the fate of the train my friends were on. The only bright spot in their ordeal was that the passengers were supplied with food and water, the AC in their coaches was kept functioning and (Praise the Lord!) they had signal for their mobile networks.
But our well-planned holiday was now in jeopardy. The next several hours were a bizarre mix of time standing still- like their train; and time flying – as the number of hours between their arrival here and the departure of our next train began to steadily diminish. Phone calls went back and forth as we considered and discarded various options to salvage our trip. With each possible option our hopes would cautiously rise, only to be dashed to the ground when some hitch cropped up. It was like being on a roller coaster. I must mention that Google was very helpful here- it showed us distances, nearest airports, railway stations, alternate flights, trains and even buses to our holiday destination.
Then their train began to crawl forward. Our hopes inched upwards as well. ETAs were checked every minute. Maybe they would reach in time for our next train after all. The hours and minutes dragged past and their train finally made it over that bridge with the flooding river below. And then it stopped again. We redid our calculations, rechecked the ETA that kept getting pushed ahead. And yet- hope still lingered. Maybe, just maybe there was a chance our trip would happen as planned. Most of our Plans B, C, D, E and F had been junked as they were either not feasible or affordable. We had a Plan X in mind as the very last resort because we hadn’t yet given up all hope.
As their train crawled forward towards this station in fits and stops, the hour of departure of our next train drew inexorably closer. Our hopes were on their last gasp but not dead yet. I gathered up my baggage and headed to the station- maybe both trains would be on the station at the same time and they would just have to get out of one and climb into the other. Maybe. Just maybe…
Our next train was on the platform when I arrived, all sleek and gleaming, ready for its onward journey. People were boarding while I stood there eyeing them with envy and despair. Our hopes were down to the faintest flicker now- mine on that noisy, crowded platform and theirs in that train which was now a good 10 hours late. The Ticket Collector of the coach in which we had our seats, gave me sympathetic looks and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. The engine sounded its horn and slowly the train pulled out of the station. I stood there and watched it leave- as our hopes finally flickered and died.
The train with my friends in it, entered the station a good two hours later, which was a mixed blessing. Had it been a near miss we would probably have felt worse. Or would we? There was this sense of relief that they had made it here safe and sound, disappointment that our trip had gotten off to a rocky start and a cautious hope that our Plan X would work out.
We all came home- they needed to unwind after their 12-hour ordeal of sitting in a barely moving train- and we had to put Plan X into practice the next day.
Candide, the eponymous hero of the novel by Voltaire believes that “Tout est pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes possibles.” Meaning ‘everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds’ Well, the jury is still out on that but we were greatly relieved that our trip, though delayed did happen. And Fate very kindly decided that we had been tested enough and left us alone for that entire duration. For me, this experience was a lesson in not giving up hope, letting go of hope and taking disappointment in stride so as to move on. And in doing so; to give hope another chance.
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