Chapter 22 - The Surprise Visitor

 
The Moscow bound train squeaked and drummed a monotonous rhythm , running over the long track of steel, so fast that the passing greenery whatever left from the snow fall became a hazy blur.
Raul tried to look out the window, but the windows are beaded and the snow beating on it like flying ashes from post apocalyptic skies.
Inside Raul was blanked out with his thoughts a curious mixture of cozy and bored, all of him itching for the destination that will come eventually and the actions after.

Raul was lost in his thoughts again, thumbing through the book in his hands, he began to focus on his thoughts which had exploded in his mind like that of a forked lightning. These sudden flashes of thoughts animate those Frankenstein monsters, that you once feared. He has been through this fun house and that not so funny sequence of scares. Chasing the thoughts are like exploring a cave, a dark place and the sudden flashes animate some imagery, giving it a skewed perception. There’s no good or bad side of this imagery. Just two sides holding different views and debating on it as if there  is a prize for it.

The path of life don't care about the terrain, that's for us to deal with. The path is the path. So whatever comes, we keep going. When we get knocked down we have to get up, 'cause there's no other way.  Endure and survive, so far Raul has kept it that simple.

India, was the new challenge for Raul. Mr. Wilson has unceremoniously kicked him into a new dimension.
"Life is going to be hard for you Raul", said Wilson," so very hard". "The feat I set for you, Raul, your task, is akin to asking a motor to start itself. I am asking you for a miracle because it is the only way to win this board game".
"Aah, the pun of Mr. Wilson" thought Raul. "Board Game..yeah from the Board Room". Raul chuckled inside him. "It is in games that many men discover their paradise.".

Choosing not to go on this mission is no choice at all, but aren't all quests like that? A famous explorer once said that the extraordinary is in what we do, not who we are. There is no bravery without a tinge of recklessness!
A few weeks later, Raul was on the Aeroflot flight to India.


It was one December evening, Raul landed up in Bangalore, India after an 8 hour long flight. The cold night, the unease of the chill and the clear skies welcomed his arrival in India. He was dizzy and hungry.

Mr. Wilson has arranged everything for him, a cab, the hotel; in another minute he was on his way to the hotel at some place called Richmond in Bangalore.The bright lights of the airport faded away behind him. With only the mechanical hum of the car to keep him company, he gazed out of the window of the taxi, half awake. The unease of a strange new place kept him on guard though he was exhausted. The long lanes that were illuminated just minutes before become lost in a blackness that even moonlight cannot help. Here and there along the road, dotted the faded lights of street lights. The car sped along the rural highway at a steady constant pace. On his frequent stops at some places, Raul listened for signs of life around him, but there come none from outside.
The cab sped through some small towns. Raul looked at his watch, restless.
All he wanted now was a hot shower, a change of dress and sleep.

An hour later on the road, bright lights began pouring into his cab. It was as if he was charged by a photovoltaic cell, with all the bright light  Raul snapped awake in the backseat of his car.
"Neat" he told himself. He loved the reception all lights minus the fireworks! The streets bustling with life and activities. The street looked glorious in its inception. The sidewalks were smooth grey stones, joined with such precision that the joins were almost invisible. The walls were concrete, but not like that of a glorified villa; they were more akin to the construction of a modernist skyscraper, all sharp edges and corners. The buildings were nothing short of monoliths, the bastions of the city's pride, stamping its arrival on the map of financially significant places to trade with.

"Well! I'll survive, he told himself".

Half an hour after, Raul was in the hotel room, looking out from the 4th floor balcony to the brightly lit street below. The light reflecting off from the swimming pool below gave the surroundings a spectacular luminescence. The air smelled very different from St.Peters berg. It was pleasant, the air here, he thought. The winter chill of Bangalore didn't bother him at all.

Raul headed for his bath. Leaning against the wall, supporting himself with one hand, he let the warm water gently flow over his back. The child in him was missing St. Peters berg, the comfort. He closed his eyes shut, feeling the drops of warm water flowing down his neck down to his back, all the way to his thighs, knees and legs and finally to the cold tiled floor of the bathroom.

"Some trees flourish, others die. Some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves..." he tried remembering where he has heard this before.

The water pours down, flowing, a steady stream, as his mind fades into dullness and everything is a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calms him; it takes his  mind of things. All the things he honestly don't care about. It's the water. He felt like he is standing under an everlasting waterfall, washing away the scary thoughts. Ever so beautiful, but it can never last.


This hotel will be his new home for a week till, the company he is going to work for will provide him an apartment later. Raul was for a long haul in India's Bangalore with a new identity and a new mission.

The jet lag caught up with him and he slept!