I don’t exactly remember the particulars of that journey. It started way back in time. Before that unknown, unnoticeable point, past, present and future used to connect quite distinctly with each other, and travelling from one to the other on the imaginary plane was not accompanied by the loss of clarity of vision(or, put in a different manner, was accompanied by an illusion of clarity of vision). But soon after starting, the train started to run very fast, and I had not even found my seat in the compartment. The clutter all came down with great bustle and clamor. Disoriented and confused in the darkness, there was no hope of clearing up the rubble, and I was too tired from trying to catch the train. So I just slept in the rubble, hoping to clear it up after the daybreak. The sleep was very disturbed, full of strange dreams and half-awake sensations of sounds coming from around me, and dreams and dark, damp & congested reality melting within each other.
Waking up wasn’t no fun either. By that time, the clamor inside the dreams had reached such a fever pitch, it had taken the form of a headless monster, rumbling and tumbling forward, awkwardly but inexorably, leaving a wake of ruin and chaos behind him. And I was bound in chains to the monster, rolling and tumbling behind him, bumping into everything that came my way, trying unsuccessfully to land on my feet. Then the scene started to clear up. There was nothing but the beast and me. The absence of things to be destroyed seemed to slow the clueless dumb beast down. And then I remembered that I have to wake up, and get my things arranged. It must have been dawn already.
As I woke up confusedly, there was no train, and I was sitting on the ground, in quite a messed up state. Ironically, my stuff was beside me, in fairly good order and unscathed. Someone must have taken great pains to unload my luggage properly after simply tossing me outside, I wryly thought.
But this wasn’t the place I was supposed to reach, my destination (now that I think of it, I can’t even remember where exactly I was supposed to go, that memory been washed out clean from my memory). It was not a place at all, going by the distinct attributes and characteristics we assign to a place. It was colorless, all dull white. And what seemed like a dull prairie, with a hovel at some distance, and nothing conspicuous by its presence, had a strange recurring quality to it, emanating from every side, a world into itself, without boundaries.
That is how I arrived in the no-man’s land.
My luggage was still there, waiting to be unpacked, mocking at me.