This is my entry post for the blogging contest by
Mahindra at
Indiblogger. My incredible story as follows:
It so happened once that I was taking my usual fortnightly trip from Mumbai to Vadodara to meet my husband. Since, I used to travel to and fro from Mumbai to Vadodara on every other weekends, it was a part of routine for me to get into the Rajdhani at 6ish on Fridays from Borivali and reach Vadodara by 11ish the same day.
Those days I was working in the marketing department of an MNC that was into movies distribution; so usually the work days were hectic for me. My husband has always been a Barodian, therefore,he was managing his business there and I was building up my corporate career life path in the city of dreams. We both were devoting our individual lives to our respective careers and used to meet up twice or thrice in a month, the situation was perfect with an handsome weight age to everything in life.
Though the only issue was that I ended up doing the majority of travel. I am talking about packing bags every other weekend to survive a journey of 6 hours sitting in a train; which was followed by undergoing the mental stress of finishing all the work at office by 4 pm; going almost invisible after 4 pm, so that no one could see me to assign me another task. Then sliding my travel bag from under my desk at 5 pm slyly, and then rushing to catch an auto rickshaw to get to Andheri East station. Mentioning an auto rickshaw is important cause most of them do not entertain a ride towards the east station at the office ceasing hours. So, I used to bit my lower lip in exasperation at the mere instance of an auto rickshaw wala denying me a ride to the station. My hatred towards them also started during those times. Any way I used to plead and beg the rickshaw walas to drop me to the station. Usually some of them used to like my pretty face and would agree to ferry me on the condition of charging double. Considering the monetary duping on account of my helplessness at those situations was something that had become a part of my life then. Then once reaching the Andheri station, the next big chore was to reach the platform which would cater to the trains going towards the north part of the city i.e. Borivali. After that getting into that train was a big big challenge. The route towards that part of the city is just over over over crowded. I do not know how many new trains have to be started towards Borivali or the civilization in those parts has to be stopped from mushrooming further. Any way, after missing at least 2 locals, I could usually budge into one, that too by the help of some or the other kind fellow lady passenger. Once into the local, 90% of the hard task was over; then I just had to get down at Borivali, change the platforms to reach the one that would cater to the long distance outstation trains, wait for my Rajdhani to arrive, get into it and then wait on my respective berth for the next 6 hours to reach Vadodara. This used to be my routine every 15 days.
The event that I am about to describe happened on one of those chaotic Fridays that changed me since then. Though, the change was for good, and I am happy that event happened that day.
That eventful Friday was jinxed right from the start. I had a bad fight with my room mate; I skipped my breakfast; landed up at work with a disturbed face. My then stupid boss was usual with his stupid stuff and somehow he decided that day only as some on-to-one discussion that lasted almost till 4:45 pm. I hinted to him every half hour that I got a train to catch and would end up missing, but I think that day he had decided to see what I would look like when I would miss my train. Finally at 5: 15, he allowed me to leave. I was almost in tears seeing the time by my watch. I did not waste my time in sobbing, instead I rushed to catch a rickshaw. In my desperation I just bombarded into one that already had a passenger sitting. To my amazement the existing passenger did not mind sharing the rickshaw; luckily he was also going to the same destination and he was "HE." I did not give anything a thought, since my thoughts were just concentrated on reaching Borivali station at the earliest and decided on not crying if I miss my train that day.
Minuted seemed like hours and finally I reached the andheri east station. I had kept the cash ready, paid the rickshaw and ran towards the platform to catch the train. And since the peak hour had started, I just could not get into one of the trains. But some one else got me that day. The cops who check the railway passes randomly caught me. I showed them my Rajdhani ticket that was booked from the Mumbai central to Vadodara. All my previous journeys I never bought the local tickets, as I was told by everyone that that ticket was as good as buying a local ticket from Andheri to Borivali. But that cop was just not ready to hear a single word from me. I cannot describe here how miserable I was feeling at that moment. Whatever that man was saying at that moment, nothing reached my ears. I was just dumbstruck with anxiety. Though I am sure he was asking me to go buy a local ticket from Andheri to Borivali. In the heat of the moment I finally shouted back on him, told him to hold and guard my luggage till I would run to fetch a local ticket. With my despairing face I do not know what transpired into him, he just asked me to get into the train with my existing long distance ticket , but told me to buy a local ticket from next time. As soon as he was finished speaking, I hurried into the local that had just started from the platform. I was almost hanging from the door, but kept holding the door bars as tight as I could. I feared that was the last journey of my life, and started recalling all the incidents that I had read or heard about people dying while traveling in the trains. Luckily, after few minutes, a hand pulled me from inside and I was sheathed from dying that day. I could not even thank that women in the rush, cause if I had looked
back or sideways to see who the face was with those helping hands, I
surely would have died that day. LOL. Life indeed gets complex
sometimes. May God bless that kind lady.
I took a breather when the crowd inside the local compartment got slightly thinner after Malad station. My eyes were constantly on my watch. I was mumbling inside to wish that the Rajdhani could get late by at least five minutes, that way I could board the train on time. My fears got a new high when the local just stopped abruptly at somewhere near the Borivali station. It just kept waiting for a signal for about 5 minutes, so that it could not run over onto some other local. I cannot define what exactly was happening to me then. I was feeling that everybody was conspiring to make me miss my train that day. Who so ever looked at me then, I ended up asking them if the train would stop for ever or will ever start again?? If it would, then how long, or not then what to do. The women folk whom I asked these questions must have felt that I am some psycho. They answered "kya malum" in the usual Mumbaiya tone and then got busy with their headphones, the rage that picked up during those days. I even considered getting down from the halted local and run towards the platform that catered to the outstation trains, but somehow I stopped myself from out-breaking that level of berserk in me.
The beads of sweat that had formed on my forehead dried with the breeze when the train started. I felt a deep sigh and a feel of cheer in me. I rushed to my platform to catch the train, as it would have arrived any time soon. I was happy that I made it on time. I was enjoying the moment when suddenly I realized that the time was 10 minutes past the actual departure time of Rajdhani from the Borivali station, and I again hit the panic button that day. I asked the people who were standing near me about the train, and they all said that a train just passed few minutes before, but they were not sure which one it was. I scanned all the passengers to find out if anyone of them was traveling by Rajdhani, with hopes that they were also waiting for the train, which would have meant that still had a chance. Though I had little hopes of locating such passengers, cause the ones traveling by Rajdhani can be identified from a crowd. If you are one, you know what I mean with such a demarcation. If it was not for the alarming crowd around, I surely would have broken into tears, but I somehow held on to my sanity.
I was sure that I landed the platform just at the departure time, so it could not be that I missed the train. But since by that time half an hour had passed, there was no other valid explanation to the contrary point that the train must have left. For sure, I had full confidence that the Indian railways cannot depart before time, but that doomed day I was willing to believe that the train indeed must have left before time. I had no other option but to wait, so I did just that. And I cant tell you what a sigh of relief I got when I started seeing my kind of passengers swarming nearby me. I asked one of them excitedly if they were about to board the Rajdhani, and to my happiness they replied in affirmation. Ahhh my blood pressure became normal again. It so happened that the train was late by 2 hours due to some technical failure, and since those passengers were well informed about it, so they came just at the right time, unlike me, and therefore they did not go through the waiting and waiting. I felt so funny on being enlightened, but smiled and boarded the train when it reached finally at the Borivali station. Well, what else could I do otherwise.
After getting comfortable at my berth, I placed my bag underneath the chair, closed my eyes and tried to relax for sometime. Little had I known that my next set of horror was awaiting me.
There was a group of young boys, in the age range of 15-17 years and was traveling in the same coach in the adjacent berth.They were returning from a trip to Goa and were excited about everything. They were talking at their highest pitch, shouting at each other, singing songs and narrating all the events that they experienced every now and then. At times repeating some of the experiences 2-3 times again and again. Not just me, but the other passengers were also getting disturbed. Few of those boys were running across the length and breadth of the train, few were abusing each other, and some were cutting jokes on the senior aged passengers who took a long time to travel to the washroom from their respective berths. All the while I felt that the boys would calm down in a while, and all would be peaceful in some time, but the adrenaline in them was shooting higher and higher.
The time came when I just could not take any thing further. It was when the boys were indulging in a joke session, and one after the other the PJs were directed on the Sikh community. By the way, I am married to a Sardar, so that particular moment I was not ready to take any further disappointment from anyone. So, I stood up and blasted the boys in every language that I had known till then. I abused their parents, I humiliated them, I hurled verbal abuses to the every women folk in their community for producing such spoiled and undisciplined breed of kids. I told them to surrender their identity cards and to submit contact information, so that I could write a written complaint to their parents and their school for teaching them nothing, and turning them into some sort of criminals. I do not know what transpired in me then, whatever I was holding back since the morning, puked out on that group of lads.
Then the one who seemed to be the eldest amongst those, took the responsibility on his entire group's behalf and apologized to me and everyone else around. He said that he would ensure that no one amongst them will misbehave in the latter part of the journey. I gave him a look that meant "you better, else ....I would be a bigger and better bitch", and returned to my berth. Surprisingly, the fellow passengers started ignoring and distancing me, taking me to be a real life bitch. That was the moment when I realized that I had indeed outdone the kids in misbehavior. Anyway, it was too late then to mend anything.
The entire journey afterwards was a mute one. No one spoke in the journey. If any of the boys had to talk to each other, they would climb to the upper berth and then mumble between each other; and of course all the while focusing all their eyes on me so that they do not end up bugging me again. If I recall I did shed few tears while managing to look outside the window, so that no one could see me doing that.
Finally, the clock struck 9 pm, which is the dinner time for Rajdhani. Every passenger was served their respective tray of food. I saw that group of kids eating their dinner, then wrapping their left over neatly in a tissue paper. Then each of the kid placed a newspaper on the tray, one of the kid collected the wrapped tray from each and placed all of them in a big sized plastic bag and to my amazement kept the bag with them as their belonging. It obviously meant that they were not intending to throw any waste outside the window. Then one by one each one of them washed their hands and brushed their teeth in the wash basin; while maintaining a pin drop silence during the entire process. And what could I say, I was deeply touched. Never ever had I thought of not throwing the wastes outside the window; never ever I washed my hands after a dinner in the train, forget about washing my teeth; although that must have been my 25th journey on the same route; considering my 1 year of living the same rut.
I regret to this day that I ruined the happiness of a group of young boys, who had nothing else in their agenda except to enjoy the most of their time. They were all so happy reciting jokes to each other; had I been in a happy stance, I too would have joined them by contributing to more of Santa Banta jokes. But I was so caught up with my own despair and misfortunes of the day that I could not appreciate someone else's moment of happiness. And who was I to give them a moral lecture, the kids were far more disciplined than I was. Again, like other events of that day, I could do nothing at the moment. I saw each of the 14 kids for a last time when they got down at the Vadodara station with me. In my heart I wished each of them a happy and cheerful life ahead and went on with my 2 days of happiness with my husband.
The only twist in the tale was that while taking a return train on Sunday night from Vadodara, I tucked in all the wastes that I created in the train along with me in my travel bag, which I promptly dispatched into my stupid boss's waste basket on the following Monday. And I too brush my teeth and wash my hands after every meal, even when I am travelling in a train since that day.
