It’s 8.45 in the morning and the cab has just made a turn through the Chijarsi cut. Cold it is and all eight of us – all girls are sitting like conjoint twins. Mufflers, caps and thick sweaters and a deep discussion on political affairs are keeping these women engaged. Cab radio is buzzing at its full swing and I am seen banging my head to and fro. A couple of women are in trance, one is looking outside while the other one is betrothed with her ear plugs.
It is a daily routine to travel from Ghaziabad to Noida and by now, most of us are mavericks with the routes. We know the twists and are almost abreast with every customary jerk. Managing the bags and the bumps, the ride of approximately 2 hours is enough to penetrate into each other’s life and realize how expert we are at camouflaging things.
Eight women – eight stories! Every woman has things to share and lessons to impart. A club of ordeal behind those nails, paints, and that designer disguise! Eight women have been nurturing anecdotes from the time of their first Christmas. Manifesting themselves in their own rights..
Relationships, marriage, babies, rant and repeat – Life – WOMEN PERSONIFIED
What better way could I represent that cluster of women? And like that the day ends at our respective offices, the cab travels back from Noida to Ghaziabad. Crackling of jokes, leg pulling, serious debates, guidance on life, aspirations and the dreams – all shared everything under one roof. Autumn, spring, pitter patters and fluctuation of our heart beats – the cab keeps moving and moving.
Picture courtesy – Can Sock