The software for allotting berths in Indian Railway has just gone open source. For the non-geeks, that means, they’ve released the code for all to see. And I’ve reproduced the same here.
if(traveller=male && is 18-25 years of age)
remove from( compartment with ladies of 18-25 years of age)
put into( coupe x)
x=Boring old uncles who disapprove of modern-day youth and are prone to long-winded lectures on social degradation
x= Depressed old aunties with 3 or more ailments
//On a really terrible day
x= babies ( crying non-stop(volume++))
if (traveller = Any other than 18-25 yr old male)
while(in any way as to the seating scheme of previously mentioned young males is not compromised)
Well, my programmer friends may raise their eyebrows, as there are some very unconventional programming methods used. 😀 But you get the point.
Regardless of whether a software does the dirty work or a human does, it is my firm belief that there indeed exists a huge conspiracy to eliminate the little joys we derive from travel. So much so that even the involvement of Taliban in Indian Railways cannot be ruled out. This is no unfounded accusation, it’s an observation fuelled by years of train journeys.
However, a software cannot be faultless, and a human even less so. So, on rare occasions, we do find ourselves in the company of a beautiful female, and rarely in the company of an intelligent female and even more rarely, in the company of an intelligent and beautiful conversationist. *Bliss* I cannot put enough stress on that ‘rarely’ though. So rare that it remains a dream . 😐
However, on this particular occasion I am about to recount here, the computer had fucked up and fucked up royally. I had made the reservation late and hence was able to obtain only a side upper berth. My tall frame offers considerable difficulty in contorting it into a teeny side upper berth. Hence I was not very pleased with the seat allocation. Till I boarded the train.To be precise, till I dragged my heavy bag over to the seat, deposited it with a sigh and straightened up to face my fellow sufferer.
Well, she was a stunner. I cannot recall her features in detail, all I remember is that she looked good. In an ideal situation , we would be alone in the compartment and she would react with mild amusement to my ridiculous stare and I would take out my guitar to strum a romantic song and impress her and it would later blossom into a full blown relationship. But this was not Vaaranam Ayiram a.k.a ideal -ridiculously so- situation . So I had to check my gaze and settle down with my customary kill-time-in-train magazine.
*To be continued later….
Sorry for the half-baked post.
I hit sort of a roadblock with the tale, and I just can’t finish it. The blog’s been held up for a long time, and if I put off posting any further, it’ll go dead again. I’ll complete it later, I swear.
Meanwhile, this almost-post is dedicated to my friend Harishanker who’s incidentally on a train himself, right now. He’s the guy who urges me to keep on blogging. Cheers and best wishes , buddy. Bell the CAT. 😀