"The
following is a parody, loosely based on true events, intricately
woven with fiction, you need not agree, just read"
I
am a typical Middleclass
Indian
man, and as go all Indian men fitting that strata, I have been
blessed with many typical “Indian” characteristics (If you don't
agree with any of these traits my fellow Indian brothers and sisters,
I understand. Being an Indian, I have the right to classify my own
atypical characteristics as “Indian”)
The
first trait that would define me is to “be cautious”. I confirm
everything at least three to four times, whatsoever the case may be.
Let a simple case of locking the main door when I, with my family
have started out on a trip (To attend a family function is a trip for
us, as we middleclass folks “rarely” waste our earnings on
exotic vacations), leaving our “so called” valuables in “soon
to be temporarily deserted” house at the mercy of a 7 lever Godrej
lock. My first action in this instance, would be to pull out the poor
rusted lock multiple times after locking the door to stress the test
reliability of the lock. Immediately after stepping back, I would
look back to cross verify the lock's fit onto the door. We are so
cautious at being cautious that we cross question each other whether
or not, we have locked the door throughout the journey. (Generally,
my wife does the courtesy of asking such irritating questions “Did
you lock the door?” )
Until
we reached the railway station, almost everyone tries their utmost to
entangle my cautious mind further with layers of confusion with
queries such as - “Have you taken the tickets”, “Did you switch
off the fans and lights”; “Count the number of bags” or my
favorite - “Count the number of children”....
We
Middleclass Indians are staunch advocates of traveling light – Five
bags are a minimum count we use, with two suitcase, one big bag used
as an eatery – even in Rajdhani Express in which the Railway
ministry provides food and beverages ( not freely, the price is
included in the tickets), one bag for both kids and one with all
remaining valuables skillfully fitted into the purse of the lady of
the house.
My
cautious characteristic was still dominating when we reached
Mughalsarai railway station at 11:45 pm (we arrived a total of one
hour fifteen minutes before the scheduled departure of the Howrah
express. But that was totally acceptable – better early than
never)
As,
usual I was busy in counting our bags and kids, while taking help of
the coolie to carry our luggage to board in our reserved 3-tier AC
compartment. Out from the blue, my second trait kicked in – to
doubt everyone, which started going hand-to-hand with the first one.
I took out the ticket to verify the train number and timing, and kept
doubting the knowledge of our coolie who, as per generally accepted
Indian principles, seemingly knows more than the sophisticated
computer system that carried out the announcements.
The
train arrived surprisingly on the right time (Until now I had not
paid the coolie because of my second characteristic. You never know
these coolies, they will disappear once they get the money, leaving
you helpless on the crowded platform with seven bags including two
sleeping children)
We
pushed everyone to locate, let me rephrase, “capture” our already
reserved births. My third characteristic woke up late midnight -
“always be in a hurry”.
The
train was still standing (I already checked with my co-passengers
whether it was “Howrah Express”. My brother-in-law had warned me
that there would be multiple Howrah's going at the same time) Withing
less than three minutes, we locked our bags with chains, bought out
the bedsheets, after a small tussle with the coach assistant, who was
asking us to wait for a few minutes, and changed our clothes –
including that of our sleeping kids.
Suddenly,
a “pehalwaan” looking Punjabi with his wife and ten bags entered
our section and shouted “Pajji!! This is our berthhee, neeche
utaro”. I was intimidated by his physique and voice, but still gave
him a free suggestion – my fourth characteristic, in imperceptibly
protesting voice, “Bhai sab, this is our seats...do check your
ticket again. There are many Howrah's at this hour, my brother-in-law
told me already...”
Even
before I could complete, the hot-headed punjabi dragged me down from
my upper seat. My wife could not protect me from falling and all my
kids, now fully awake and frightened (to be honest, not more than I
was) started crying loudly in chorus.
And
all of a sudden, my saviour came, in form of a ticket collector. He
checked our tickets and addressed to me, vindicating Mr. Pehlwaan,
“Sir, Your ticket was for yesterday's Howrah – See November 3rd,
1:00 AM”
I
put forth my argument (my fifth characteristic), “Today is November
3”
“No…
after midnight date changed… it is November 4… 1:00 AM. Now train
may start anytime… please get down quickly… hurry up!!!”
This
was no problem as my already awakened third trait - “Always be in a
hurry” was still active. My family and my luggage was bought down
safely, before the Train could start.
My
wife, pissed said “ I keep telling you to check the tickets, but
you never listen...”
But,
this of course, was given to a deaf ear as I was busy counting my
luggage “….5, 6, uhhh, the purse 7....Complete!! Thank God”
* * * *
