Tuesday, June 3, 2014

train trips

having talked to my mother for an hour on the children's day, i can't now wait to see her. i've missed her so. i haven't seen her for a year now as she doesn't make the trip to the city much anymore, and i just hadn't had the time or chance to go visit her during the past year. the last time she came to ulaanbaatar was last year in june when she came to take care of her grandson as i was busy with the elections job, and my nephew sat helpless but happy at his gaming all day thanks to a fractured leg. of necessity and due to safety reasons, i'm taking the train north. train trips always wake memories: czechoslovakia to mongolia, when i was a four and half year old (the beautiful, comfortable compartment fully equipped with its own private bathroom, sink, what-have-you, glimpses of the type of luxury unheard of and unseen in the socialist realms, the train being austrian), my solitary travel of the late 90s and early 2000s beijing to ulaanbaatar and ulaanbaatar to beijing (once being stuck with compartment roomies whom i wasn't comfortable enough with thanks to all of their unbridled drinking, sexual flirting with each other, and one clamouring on top of another regardless of a kid, me, being next to them, that set my teeth on the edge, whom i ended up escaping and spending the night sitting atop of a corridor trashbin, gazing into the slipping darkness, shadows and shapes evoking my paranoid fantasies where, despite everything that could be out there, i was still safe in my blanket over my shoulders in that speeding box of steel), my solitary and joint travels with friends all around india (pot is decriminalised there which meant that whenever there was a road trip with friends, most of us ended up getting stoned and listening to the 60s psychedelic rock for hours, and when travelling alone, still getting stoned and immersing myself in then and there, all the smells and tastes of india all too live, still, because of that added factor of memories being retained by my senses as much as by my intellect), my coupled and thus fevered train nights (one ex used to go on roadtrips quite often, and if she was going over the weekend, i often joined her) where no sound was to escape, which didn't preclude us from doing what we wanted to do to each other's bodies and souls... then my meditative pilgrimage trips to the south or the north of the country by myself, hot air baking my body, sucking all the moisture out of my cells... meditative, introspective, silent; i often pretend to be mute when i'm travelling alone in trains. 

another silent trip is coming up.

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