This time it was for Vishu in April 2008. My friends Dilip, Rohan and I were traveling home from Panvel (Mumbai) to Kerala. This time also we had unconfirmed sleeper tickets. We had a single digit waiting number before 48 hours of chart preparation. In spite of Dilip’s advice to pay the agent some amount to get the ticket confirmed, Rohan insisted it will get confirmed. On those days we neither had IRCTC apps nor smart phones to check the PNR status while traveling. So we started from Ahmednagar to Panvel hoping that it would be confirmed before we catch the train. My ardent readers might be wondering if I have ever traveled with a confirmed ticket. Yes, I do most of the times. However, “Difficulties are opportunities to better things, they are stepping stones to greater experience” - Brian Adams (he is not yet in my friend list…)
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| Sometimes we experience this |
The train was Jam-packed. Sleeper class compartment were like general one. All were hoping for a better Vishu and was ready to go through any eventualities to get home. As Malayalies, who ever got in first doesn’t want to share their fortune, closed most of the compartments from inside. So we had to run from pillar to post and finally squeezed in to ones which had an army battalion who seems to have got their freedom just yesterday. They were living in another world merry making with all possible avenues when poor fellow passengers struggle to get an inch. Still they showed the courtesy to keep the door open. Indian railways provide a special opportunity for anosmic persons. They can always get comfortable place near the great Indian railways toilet. To my horror there too the competition was high this time. But we had no choice but settle down with our bags and looking helplessly at each other. Dilip had that look to finish me and Rohan for our impractical optimism. I had a look at Rohan and his face had an expression which can’t even be replicated by Jagathi or Mohanlal.
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| Sleeper class was like this |
Once the train started moving we looked at our options. There were no signs of Train God (TTE,yes he is for any second class traveler)and we were sure no TTE will be able to walk through this ocean of people to check tickets. No question of the easy option. We hoped “The grass will be greener on the other side and decided to send Rohan, who happened to have lived in half of Indian states at this small age to glance through the mini India to find a better place so that we can regain our smell senses before it is lost forever. He was so optimistic that he was ready to take his bag along with him for the expedition. We promised to join him once he found his paradise with his bag soon. He was back after a long time and his expression said it all. Another hour passed and with 10 opening and closing of the bathroom door, I had decided to venture out for another expedition as the place had a worse impact than Hiroshima. I was crawling through the makeshift space between fellow passengers, above the plains, below the mountains and swimming through rivers.
Finally in the third compartment I entered I saw “My Messiah”. I identified him; he was from my mother's village. But he doesn't know me neither did I know his name. I smiled at him like he is my best pal. He did have a confused smile and looked at people sitting next to confirm if I was smiling at him. 'Ingalu Pandakkal alle?' (Aren't from Pandakkal?) I asked, before he asked me something. Reply was yes and he knew me once I gave him a brief about myself. He turned out to be the best friend of my uncle. With already four in that seat one more can maximum squeeze in.
Me: Ikhede perendenum? (What is your name?)*
Gafoorkka: Gafoor. Alla inji edu compartmentilenum? (You sit in which compartment?)
Me: Allikka, ada oru presnam. Ticket confirm allappa. (That is the problem, don't have a confirmed ticket)
Gafoorkka: Athre ullu? Ippo sariyaakitharam. (Don't worry, I shall make arrangements)
He told and made arrangements for me to sit opposite to him. He made others to adjust for me, without him having to sacrifice an inch of his comfort.
Only when comfortable I did think of my poor friends struggling in Hiroshima. I explained the situation to Gafoorkka. Without a second thought he told that adjusting two will be difficult. (because this time he himself will have to adjust) I felt bad for my friends and texted them that I could manage a seat, but it won't be possible to adjust anyone else. Please take care of my bag. (Not sure if my worry was only about my bag and not about my friends). Two passengers (Ernakulam) in our coupe were on high spirits. They were very talkative about life in Gulf. It was for the first time I was getting a realistic image of life in gulf and life in the labor camps (remember it was before Arabikadha or Aadujeevitham). Another typical Achayan from kottayam too joined the chat with his adventures during his stint in Middle East.
It’s always interesting to involve with people in high spirits, they talk from their heart. They even asked me to join them for the drink, when I denied they were disappointed. They in fact told me not to worry about the quantity as they can refill at Madgaon station. When I refused again they stopped speaking to me. That is the power of spirit. It can create love and hatred in seconds.
Mr Kottayam : Thaan entha kudikathille? (Don’t you drink at all?)
Me: Illa. (No)
Mr Kottayam : Ohh pinne! onnu poda uvve. Hmm oru kanakinu travel cheyyumbol kudikaathada nallathu. (I don't believe that, however it is good not to drink while traveling.)
I just smiled and asked 'Chetan entha kudikaathe?' (Why don't you drink?)
Mr Kottayam : Enna cheyyana uvve, ammachi marichechum povua. Kudichechum keri chellan okkathillallo! (What to do? I am going for my mother's funeral)
Me: Ohh sorry. Pakshe entha ottaikku povunne? (Oops sorry, but why is family not accompanying?)
Mr Kottayam : Ee kazhinja weekend ingethyade ullu. Oru masam leave eduth Ammachik serious aarunnapol avalanu nokyadu. (We just returned last week. Wife had taken one month leave to take care of my mom when she was serious)
His wife was a military nurse and he was the home maker. From many gulf stories I heard that day one I still remember was his story which happened in late 80's. He was new to Saudi, working for a construction company as a civil engineer. He had accommodation arranged in an apartment. He could not make any real friends as he was a rare bachelor there. He spent time at a nearby tyre repairing shop run by Malayalies. One day an Arab (Kaatarabi) person fixed his tyre problem and left. Mr Kottayam saw his dropped wallet on the ground few moments after he was gone. He told about that to the shop keeper, who advised him to ignore it. Shopkeeper also told it may invite some trouble. By that time a Philippine in a cycle had taken the wallet and vanished. Few minutes later the Arab returned inquiring about his wallet. Immediately Mr Kottayam explained what happened and the direction in which the Philippine headed. The Arabic thanked him and left. He was a proud happy man and teased the shopkeeper for expecting some trouble while helping someone out. In five minutes time the Arab returned with two police. They asked few questions and then Mr Kottayam was taken to police station. He was asked to find out the culprit with the help of a policeman. That day he and the police searched around and at night he was not even let to go to his apartment. He was left only next day morning when a senior manager that too since he had good influence in higher echelons after promising to turn up every day till the culprit is caught. His only crime was being the witness and born on the wrong part of the world.
They told me so many such incidents with lighter note. But I observed the lonely man at the window seat. Not interested in a single word of what we spoke. I saw tears rolling out of his eyes a couple of times. He was just sitting there always staring away. I knew he was just physically there. 'What is his problem?' I asked Gafoorkka by dump charades. To which the reply was 'God knows!' Later I received a text from Rohan 'We are moving to S-8(which was the one with army men). If you want your bag come and take it ...&%^$%^$£$%. So I had to go.
Me: Gafoorkka, apperam ulla changaayimaar vilikkunnund. Njan ponna. (Gafforkka, my friends are calling. I have to go)
Gafoorkka : Adellam inte ishtam. Aade enthenkilum presnaundel inji ingu pori. (As you wish. If you are not comfortable there, please feel free to comeback)
Alla pahaya, inji ee thekkarde bhashayellam engane padichoote? Enak Maratiyum Hindiyum vare thiriyum, ennaalum ivare malayalam thiriyoolappa!! (Oh how did you learn language of south? I can follow Marati or Hindi but not their Malayalam!)
Dilip has found a place near the army person as most of the other passengers escaped from there due to their high handedness. Particularly one guy (Let's call him Sumesh) was on high and backed with his friends causing a lot of trouble. He simply wanted to pick a fight. I do wonder how the alcohol makes different people behave in different ways based on different situations. The elderly one in other compartment rather than causing any issues was more accommodating to other passengers but here another group wanted to create havoc. Having had more than their capacity and causing trouble to everyone, they wanted more to quench their thirst. As the train reached “Madgaon”, a seller with Pepsi and Frooti came and asked them if they needed liquor. It was amazing how they recognized each other effortlessly. He sold two bottles.
Sumesh: We finish two bottles in 2 hours; we have 6 hours of journey left. So please bring at least two more bottles.
Seller: Fine, pay me now. I will get you.
Without a second thought they gave more money than he asked. 'We are actually paying thrice the amount for a bottle. What to do there is no canteen in train!’ They waited for sometime only to see the person who got money entering some far away compartment. Initially they shouted, thinking that he has mistaken the compartment. Only when the train started to move and the frooti-man got down and smiled at them with that close-up smile, they realized that they were fooled. Looking at their face I could not stop laughing.
Sumesh looking to pick a fight charged at me. His friends held him back and my friends had that sorry look and almost thought they had to take me back in pieces. Hearing the shout others in nearby coupe came enquiring, as usual sympathy had fallen on me being the weaker and lack of spirits. Having sensed the situation and growing support I started a moral lecture denouncing the acts of Sumesh and his friends. As arguments got heated up I painfully realized the people who supported were passive and don’t want to take a fight with the men in uniform. Most of them were now competing for Nobel Prize for peace and I too rose to the occasion and turned the tables hoping for a respectable exit.
This got under control, But Sumesh having lost the money to fruity-man was not ready to oblige and whispered to his friend he will teach me a lesson later.
---- To be continued.
So close to life.. Interesting...
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