Nothing could be more sore than sitting devoid of company in a train. For long i held this opinion. It was a hot saturday afternoon and I was stuck in the Chennai mail homebound. As I was early to reach the station, I managed to grab a seat in the general coach. A girl entered the train with her mother. Soon her father called her on the phone asking where they were. She replied, “Just come into coupe next to which a mammen is standing, with a newspaper on his head.” The guy to right suddenly asked, “What if that mammen moves past?” The girl prayed otherwise.
For a few passing minutes, i stared at a guy dressed like a pimp, who stood by the aisle. French beard, violet t-shirt with huge prints, egg-white wrist watch… “Interesting,” I thought. It wasn’t long before, the way he spoke made me realise he was that average college boy. Father came and the train bade goodbye to hot, simmering station.
I spent the 1st dragging hour staring at the amusements my phone. All i could think of was my bum gettin numb. Heaven sent a guy, asking me to get up and stuff his bags. Relief at last… I got rid of my gadget as i hit kollam. Transforming into a rubberneck, i saw the multitude of passengers who sat nearby… This was quite a queer lot.
On the windowside opposite was a blind schoolteacher, who held his bag
close to him. And next to me sat a man of sixties, who attempted to
make small talk with the blind gentleman with little success. The
weirdest was a family of three- a husband , a wife and a young girl,
who were determined to battle their way till Chennai in the general
coupe. To the right sat a pair of artists who were completely
strangers when they entered the train. Getting to know each other,
they couldn’t stop themselves from bragging about ‘the ailings of the
entertainers’. Reality shows and egos of the ‘superstars’ hit bigtime
between their gossips.
to be concluded