My eyes were so baggy with tears that for a second i thought i could quench the thirst of the dry earth beneath the clear blue sky as i was flying from ktm to delhil... those wild wild nights wud be a thing of past...life after 10th grade ..had come to a complete halt..no summer coolatas..nor the music and nor the boys to swing along with the music.. Rest of my classmates had been lost my now..i had actually attended two of my gf's wedding ( jesus sweet 16s)..i partied day in and day out..the parties started at 12 noon to midnight then dragged along till 2, 3, 4, 5,...most of the time i bribed my servants to leave the gate open or i wud jump off the wall..my own dog Tony bit me several times not recognizing me at night and i was so wasted that it wud a shock to find his bites in the shower next morn.. mom and my sis wud talk about a certain group of youngsters crossing their limits every time in the dining table..i shuddered whether they knew i was part of all the hullabongs.. Most people hate Nicole Richie and Paris for no reason..basically when you're 17..all you wanna be is happy whetner its parties, drives, clothes and all the things you'd do when you don't have to go to school..well some people take karate classes to0 well i defintely wasn't one of them... slowly you get addicted to parties so much that it wud be a shock to realize to see yourself in the mirror..the day i lied to dad saying i had just finished m tuitions..when asked why was i late for my own birthday puja..i regretted soo much...i had infact been away to GOA for the weekend and nobody at home realized when i had flown out or in(thanks to the servantstelling them i wud not wan to be distrubed in my study)..dammit they trusted so much and there wasn't a thread of trust that i maintained..and one fine day the my uncle the then DSP in nepali police caught me with bunch of other guys and dolls partying during curfew hours..that was the last straw....i gave in myself to go to the central jail..or the highschool in nainital to punish myself straight... end of my teenage life....i began to think my life is ending then.. off the plane and onto the train ..god by now i was so good at travellling on my own...was just trying to imagine how wierd the indians must be in my class..who wud be my dormmate..how to get my head back to books and how to break rules if any..no wait i'm going back to my pre 10th grade years from now... The lush sugarcane greens grew side by side the train windows..that woman across me was smirking that i wore a tight jeans..and a p-cap..a la POOJA BHATT..i stared back at her..she started asking toomany ques kuddi kidhar ja raheho??and all that i'm like "mind your own business""...in my mind though..the conductor checked my bag thrice ....i didn't carry much not even clothes..i'd buy everything out there in school...my mom was too smart that she had already opened an acoount for me in the State BAnk of India in Nainital when she came there for admissions...so rest of the stuff i carried ...including the dough was inside the zipper of my leather belt..nobody would figure out anyways and it was one of the wierd stuff that i had bought in Palaki bazaar in dehli.....so i flet safe..but not hat safe inmy tight jeans...and white skin..so i was hiding myslef behind the stupid hat and miami vice type sunlasses..ewwwwwwwwww..what was i thinking.. the conducter came in the fourth time i was thinking how to jump off the train if anything weird happens..he showed me his "pan" rusted smile and asked me "memsaab" aap chaye logi? i said "ji, shukriya"..oh what a relief ..for both the conducster and me..he thought i was the mim and i thought he was a rail ko chorr..i was so desperate for a cigarrete by now..he sold me a box of Goldflakes for rs.20..bloody thief..the train chugged on..the women kept staring at me and i was annoyed with the sugarcane smell...giindhi ka smell..its like shit.. i wasn't about to close my eyes for a second.. ilooked out the window..the brown dusty wind..swallowed most villages...india had so much free land..how come there is so much poverty..i passed through modhi village..the modhhi thread factories, the modhie...whatver..there were old muslim houses in between their designs were so intricate that ven those of Taj Mahal cud be put to shame..the trains chugged along.. passed amny truckers, wells, hardorking women, the tractors...then there were walls painted HIV..docs avaible...shit..why are there so much problems in these countries..??. then i started romancing the green hills up the mountains...the chilly wind..the luscious trees so similar to nepali jungle..i felt at home getting closer to nainital..my crazy journey ended as i saw the sign of my central jail on the blue gates of nainital..MRS Gothales..held my hand tight..YOung Lady we expected you to have an escort while travelling...the FINISHING school started pointing out my defects..i succumbed myself for the two years of torture in the finishing school......