Why I thought to step off the speeding train

“When you feel afraid or nervous of doing a thing then do it because the real harm you may thus receive is less poignant than its expectation and fear.”

Imam Ali

As the train engine whistled and the screeching wheals rolled forward, my heart pounded violently against my chest.

The carriages swung side to side – making me feel giddy.

I said to Brijesh, my travelling companion, that I don’t want to go further, that I want to step off the speeding train.

It was a humid night of July. I was leaving Lucknow to pursue a 1-year computer course in Delhi. I felt horrified to leave my home because my fears, provoked by my blindness, had imprisoned me in the company of my family and friends.

I’m embarrassed to confess that so nervous I felt then that venturing out even from my home chilled my soul.

Yet I decided, with the help of my encouraging friends, that I’ll have to make a leap and so I haired off to the Delhi course.

I heard the thudding and slamming sounds with the shaking carriages picking up speed. With the little sight I had, I saw the lights on the platform, white and orange, with the glittering stalls all speeding backwards. With the carriages slipping off the station, the engine shrieks echoed in the fields and the deasil odour got mingled with the fresh breeze of the trees.

Nervousness and carrying my knapsack could have made me tired, because I felt restful to stretch my body on the fluffy berth. I hoped that the next morning when I’ll land in Delhi, my fears might vanquish. “Or maybe,” sometimes I thought, “the fright might get even acuter.”

In the sunshine of the next morning I stepped off the train in that noisy city. All people around appeared in a rush. I held that city in awe because it housed the President, the Chief Justice, the Prime Minister and others.

Compared to what I had thought, however, I wasn’t even a little frightened. There was some fear but when I got occupied in finding my way and thinking about my entrance test, even that too evaporated.

Wearing a crimson red T-shirt and black trousers, I felt that I looked smart. After all I was in my twenties and had hopes. (Though now I know that I was tubercular then and looked pale!)

The aroma of the roadside eateries – of the sweets, omelette, steaming tea – mingled with the smoke and dust of the vehicles and it was in the air. Screams of folks hurrying to go about their errands and some foul Delhi slang with abuses were heard.

The institute, All India Confederation of the Blind, was located around 40 minutes far from the station at a silent place. Trees in that area and a nice garden inside delighted and soothed my heart. Things looked new and fresh to me, and something told my heart that I’ll be fortunate to live there.

I got admission there, but it was a little affair. I want to tell about the fear that I left behind and the new hopes and joys that grew in my heart by taking that bone-scaring trip to Delhi.

After stepping out of that imaginary fear, I completely alone toured different cities of my beautiful country both by airplane and by bus.

And that blindness thing didn’t matter a shit.

That single act of breeching my fear opened the floodgates of abundant opportunities. If I hadn’t taken that scary leap, I might not have ever unlocked my courage and spirits. I might have remained a nervous and unsuccessful guy for my entire life.

Are you too permitting your fears to curb your liberties?

Charles Dickens said, “We forge the chains we wear in life.”

Life is slipping faster than we think. The best time to take that scary and nerve-racking action is now.