April 30, 2009

Cybercafé Thanks to Indian Railways

It must have been at least two years since I visited a cybercafé.

Tonight, I was to board a special train to Hyderabad from Pune. Procuring a ticket was an adventure in itself. I am sure you have better things to do than read about an idle dork's tales about buying tickets through a travel agent with connections. The climax: I ended up buying my first ever AC II Tier ticket. You all know how good this could be. Instead of squeezing yourself between thirteen sweating men in a cabin with eight or nine berths, you could sit in a spacious cabin with six berths spouting about the sins of politicians with six skinny sweeties (five plus their friend). They don't know that you haven't voted.

Yeah, about that. It didn't turn out that way. After all, it is I and not you in this situation. Even if it were you, cross your hearts and tell me, would six girls have ever listened to you?

My train got delayed by three and half hours. To 0140hrs of tomorrow. I couldn't go back to my apartment because transport at that hour is impossible, unless you counted my roomie dropping me on a friend's bike, which thanks to Pune roads would make you a stupid again. So I decided to spend my time in the railway station.

First, law. I bought a platform ticket. I had to spend twenty-two rupees to get three rupees change and then dropped it in a platform ticket machine, which is another first for me. While sitting on the pavement outside the station -- breeze there -- I saw this "24 HOURS Broadband Internet Cafe".

So here I am. After presenting an ID proof.

Being the careful and conscientious guy I am, I cleaned up the cookies, history, and cache in the browser. Yeah, they still use IE6 but also Quick Heal, a well-known anti-virus product in. No, I didn't check out the address bar for previous addresses, the search strings in Google, nor the usernames in Gmail. Would have been great fun. On top of it, the previous person had used Windows Messenger with a status message "L'amour est le sens de la vie , que c'est beau si cet amour est accorde au Createur" and left without logging out. You're welcome, dude, I won't reveal your username but promise me that you won't forget logging out next time.

Then I heard a woman come in and ask the guy sitting in front of me for five minutes of his computer time. Time is money, so he declined. I offered, she took a couple of minutes to cancel her ticket (she could have been one of those accompanying me in the train), and left.

Too bored to surf, I began tweeting my sob saga. Being a verbose old-fashioned fool, I soon shifted to blogging and finally posted something on this blog after almost a year. Thanks for listening. The girls in the cabin wouldn't anyway because I won't be awake in the train.