My morning is an adventure for me every day, the adventure of catching the local train to work. Sometimes I am late, sometimes it is. Some people wait patiently for the train on the platform, having arrived sufficiently in advance and busy reading their morning paper, whilst others (like me) run helter-skelter looking totally undignified, chasing down the train and giving a hand to the driver with pleading eyes to miraculously stop. Oh, I am nothing less than our P.T. Usha, running at my top speed to catch the train!
The days I am successful I feel supremely able to take on any job and the days I fail I feel unbearably miserable and wait impatiently for the next train.
And what do I see from the train? Munnabhai’s ‘Real India’ – is it just a heap of garbage and slums and smelly drains? Well, partly true but not only that! On some days, it drizzles, and the running train leaves your face refreshingly splashed with a feeling of a child-like happiness of getting drenched in the rain. On occasions, a flock of birds race with the train in a sinewy path, dancing to the music playing in your ears, with the backdrop lined by the shapes of boulders in their balancing act, with a peacock giving a guest appearance declaring its supremacy on one of the rocks.
As the train passes through the cemetery you can’t but help notice that the most flourishing and beautiful Gulmohar tree stands amidst the buried ones, and what better example of afterlife! The breeze in your hair gives a sense of freedom as you see the sun set gloriously, reminding you that it’s evening, and it is the favorite time of the day – as a cup of adrak chai (ginger tea) beckons at home.
In the train, one meets all kinds of people. You may become irritated by the chattering crowd, some of them seated on the floor blocking the door for the breeze, but you also stumble upon kindness and humanity in the most unexpected of places.
One such encounter that I observed was between an old, malnourished woman sitting on the floor and a working-class, sharp-tongued lady having breakfast.
The elderly woman just sat with a hunched back, forlornly looking at nothing and no one. Out of nowhere, the other lady offered part of her breakfast which she was eating (one meagre-looking dosa of which I could easily eat three and still be hungry) to the old woman. The transition in the elderly lady’s face was amazing, and from a defeated look, I saw a smile stretching from her tired eyes right up to her over-creased wrinkles. That day I learnt the power of sharing.
Not only in the train, but there are so many emotions to observe on the platform. In the morning, a toddler with his father on the bike, waves a crying goodbye to his working mother, not understanding why she must leave. The mother keeps a strong smile with her goodbyes, but you can see the affection in her eyes that are affixed in their direction even when they are long out of sight.
Or the young brother, who can’t see her sister leave him for school in the morning; or the couple who meets up in the evening at the station and joyfully smile and wave as if it were an eternity since they last met rather than just that morning.
Train journeys are an adventure, exhilarating yet painful at the same time. Like the best adventures, you rarely enjoy a train journey while you are in it but remember the same fondly when you look back upon them.
It teaches you about life, about people, about near-misses and many other emotions.
Most of all, it teaches you patience to wait for the good things in life, just delayed on track. You just have to keep an eye out for magic in ordinary journeys!
mehndiratta.richa@gmail.com