Beyond Lines

And we were in Bangkok. Again. And as we negotiated with the familiar bright lights, pink taxis, tuk-tuks, and noisy streets we were far away from it already. We poured over print outs as we sipped our drinks and something fluttered in our stomachs. It seemed all the city’s action was inside us, not outside.

Sleep came in bits and spurts. And before the alarm went off we were all ready. A tuk tuk was ready for us outside. We sat and we were off. The city looked so different during the day – stripped off its paint and sheen. We had never known the city to be so quiet before and we took it all in. The bus stop was at far end of the city. Like all others, soul-less. People boarded and disembarked, a child cried, a mother shouted, a bag slipped, a queue was broken, a man fought, a ticket was lost, a bus missed, a horn here, a horn there, smell of stale food and phenyl. It was like the one back home. The same-ness was comforting.

We boarded our bus to the border. Yes, we were on our way to cross over to Cambodia. On land. On foot. The bus took four hours. We slept for four hours. So much for wanting to make memories of every little place we passed. We woke up at the border. We are asked to get off and walk in a straight line to a small office in front. We couldn’t see beyond it. Our bags were screened, our passport was stamped and when we came out of that little building-like structure we held our hands tight to hold our breath.

It was a delightful sight.There were men with floppy hats tugging their carts, there was cattle, there were people rushing about, there were a few tourists. All walking in different lines. In seconds, we were part of the crowd. In the distance we could see a shed like structure marked ‘Cambodia’. We didn’t speak. Lest they broke the magic. When we reached the shed, we were asked to pay 1100 bahts to obtain the visa. We did. The officer looked at our passport and said ‘Indians?’ We nodded. And then he said ‘First time Indians’. We laughed. Yes, it was a given that Indians into Bangkok only stayed in fancy hotels and visited the malls and shopped. They took no delight in adventure and discomfort. There was enough back home. Yet, here we were, breaking generalisations.

But it was not time for self-congratulation. Everything around us was heightened. We could see the shuttle in the distance. We did not speak. We had crossed the border on foot.

We didn’t need to click our heels anymore.

Where could the tornado take us after all?