Continued from The Rail Tale: Part 2...
Just as you get out of your compartment and into the passage, you look both sides. Your view does not go beyond the fattest, baldest uncles standing just a metre away from you. The train is jam-packed. You wish you hadn't chosen to take a piss, but now it's too late. You choose a side, and ask an uncle to make way for you. He just rotates his body two inches, and stares.
"How am I supposed to get past this truck?" you think.
Had it not been for the little yoga you learnt sometime in your life, you wouldn't have made it. Indian Railways makes sure that the passengers have a good deal of exercise while travelling. And this was one instance of it.
You move ahead, but just after a few steps of dangling around like a drunkard, you are blocked. You are surprised to see a giant chicken in your way!
Oh wait, no, that's a big fat auntie in a yellow sari.
"Excuse me!" you say.
No movement.
You repeat. No reply. No movement. You look around. There are people in the audience waiting for something to happen.
Is she dead?
"Excuse me," you shout.
She turns around, and looks at you like an animal of prey. Seeing that you need to pass, she moves her leg by an inch. She stares at you as if it's your fault that you need to urinate.
You use your yoga skills again, and jump across her fat chicken leg, only to stumble and push another person in the front. After about five seconds of hearing him swear, apologizing to him, and pushing four more people on the way, you reach the toilet.
One is the Western Toilet, and one is the Indian Toilet. What to choose?
At this point of time, let me give you a piece of unwanted advice. However attracted you may be to 'Western' culture, never, ever choose a western toilet in an Indian train. You might see sights you didn't want to, and end up getting a share of the Indian hospitality. You don't wanna do that.
You enter an Indian toilet, after waiting for ten long minutes. People who go in in haste return in peace. The uncle who just got out looks extremely peaceful. That's not a good sign.
The fragrance of the toilet captures you. You suddenly start realizing this might be a hands on training experience in case you go to hell after you're dead. Something like, "Those who sweat in peace bleed less in war." Sight comes next. There are little patches of leftovers on both sides of the toilet. Afterall, people do like leaving souveniors for the fellow passengers. Awww!
You do what you came to do, and get out there as soon as you can. You shudder on your way out.
The chicken auntie seems annoyed that you have come back. She was wishing you'd die in the toilet. Afterall, moving her body is a feat of strength. Nevertheless, she budges half an inch, and lets you pass anyway. You stumble on her leg, and get your face into her curves. The people around you start laughing, as you get a lecture on 'etiquettes' towards women. Your cheeks turn red with embarrassment, and you run away from there like a road runner in a hurdle race. After encountering the same people on your way back, you finally reach your seat. But, you find your seat has already been occupied.
The auntie on the seat is an angry bird - both in her body shape and her temperament. From a minute of quick deduction, thanks to Sherlock, you figure out that she's the friend of your neighbour auntie, the one she talked about, the one with whom you had to exchange seats. Looks like she's already captured yours.
You try to take a step forward. Both the aunties give you a sharp look, as if you're a sex predator, and they karate experts ready to pin you down. You stop there. Even Sheldon Cooper wouldn't get his spot in such a situation.
You try to say something, but they turn away and resume their talking.
Saying they are vociferous would be an understatement. They are so loud that the entire coach can hear them. They laugh like witches designing an evil potion. They burp like they're going to rock the train over. And what they talk about could cause the entire compartment to give facepalms.
"Oye! Smell my perfume! It's awesome, right?"
"Haan yaar, where did you get this?"
"Arrey, I got it as a gift in Pinky's wedding. You know it's very costly... Others got sarees. I got this plus the perfume! That means I am her fav aunt..."
"Haye! I wanted to attend the wedding. Would've gotten a saree too!"
"I know. You should've come. The food was so delicious that I tried everything! Didn't leave a damn thing... And in the end, I barely managed to finish it all! Although Pinky wasn't looking that good in her lehenga during the wedding. She didn't even go to the parlour, you know? She didn't look that fair! Even the kaamwali Sarita was looking better than her!"
Shit just got real.
"As if the boy she's marrying is fair."
"Yeah. And you should have seen me dancing in Pinky's baraat! Everyone was looking at me, even Monu's mausa. I think he has a crush on me!"
"Hain?"
"Yes, yes, the way he was looking at my body, and then my dancing. I'm telling you... Anyways, he's not happy with Meenu. She is just a gold digger!"
Meanwhile, you are still standing there, having no idea what to do.
You try to make some space to sit, but they all give you looks. What?
"You go to my seat na... 42." says the angry bird.
Like a meek little animal, you obey. You go to the next compartment, and look around. There are people sitting all over. You try to make some space again. And everyone shoots you glances.
"There's no space here. Go somewhere else," says an uncle.
"I exchanged seats with that auntie," you say, calmly.
"So? That's not our problem."
My, my. If only someone could stab you at this moment.
You have an argument for five minutes, and it turns out that there are three people sitting there who don't actually have a seat. They have a 'Waiting' ticket.
"Excuse me, but I have a reserved seat. Let me sit," you say.
"This isn't your seat. Go sit on your seat," says the person without a seat.
You have another argument for nearly five more minutes, during which the seatless man gets emo, and throws in his tragedies of life. You feel like you're arguing with a chimpanzee. After few more minutes of T.V. serial drama, you are offered a few inches of space. Your butts squish with those of the adjacent person, such that if you were to squeeze any more, you'd turn into a diamond. Every now and then, the person opens up his legs as if he rules the seat. You wish for the nightmare to end.
After hours of continuous sitting and desperate attempts to avoid the 'seatless' maniac from capturing your little leftover of a seat, the Train Ticket Examiner (TTE) comes to examine the tickets. There's at least one thing in this entire journey that you don't have to worry about - your ticket. You proudly flaunt your ticket, and he signs on it. You can see all the Waiting List people hovering around him like flies around candy. The seat-snatcher who was just sitting beside you transforms into a flattering little baby. Words like 'sir', 'please', 'thank you', which are rarely a part of the Indian Railways Dictionary, are used in front of him. He just says "I'll see," and moves on.
Everyone gets back to their seats. The seat snatcher gives you evil stares.
The train moves further ahead, with time passing slower than an Indian queue moving forward. Everyone is jobless here, and everyone is trying to do something. You have completed half the journey. All that's left is a night to pass, and a bit of the morning. But you know better than to be relaxed. You don't expect anything good now, you just hope. Because you never know what could happen next...
To be continued...
Part 4 here
Just as you get out of your compartment and into the passage, you look both sides. Your view does not go beyond the fattest, baldest uncles standing just a metre away from you. The train is jam-packed. You wish you hadn't chosen to take a piss, but now it's too late. You choose a side, and ask an uncle to make way for you. He just rotates his body two inches, and stares.
"How am I supposed to get past this truck?" you think.
Had it not been for the little yoga you learnt sometime in your life, you wouldn't have made it. Indian Railways makes sure that the passengers have a good deal of exercise while travelling. And this was one instance of it.
You move ahead, but just after a few steps of dangling around like a drunkard, you are blocked. You are surprised to see a giant chicken in your way!
Oh wait, no, that's a big fat auntie in a yellow sari.
"Excuse me!" you say.
No movement.
You repeat. No reply. No movement. You look around. There are people in the audience waiting for something to happen.
Is she dead?
"Excuse me," you shout.
She turns around, and looks at you like an animal of prey. Seeing that you need to pass, she moves her leg by an inch. She stares at you as if it's your fault that you need to urinate.
You use your yoga skills again, and jump across her fat chicken leg, only to stumble and push another person in the front. After about five seconds of hearing him swear, apologizing to him, and pushing four more people on the way, you reach the toilet.
One is the Western Toilet, and one is the Indian Toilet. What to choose?
At this point of time, let me give you a piece of unwanted advice. However attracted you may be to 'Western' culture, never, ever choose a western toilet in an Indian train. You might see sights you didn't want to, and end up getting a share of the Indian hospitality. You don't wanna do that.
You enter an Indian toilet, after waiting for ten long minutes. People who go in in haste return in peace. The uncle who just got out looks extremely peaceful. That's not a good sign.
The fragrance of the toilet captures you. You suddenly start realizing this might be a hands on training experience in case you go to hell after you're dead. Something like, "Those who sweat in peace bleed less in war." Sight comes next. There are little patches of leftovers on both sides of the toilet. Afterall, people do like leaving souveniors for the fellow passengers. Awww!
You do what you came to do, and get out there as soon as you can. You shudder on your way out.
The chicken auntie seems annoyed that you have come back. She was wishing you'd die in the toilet. Afterall, moving her body is a feat of strength. Nevertheless, she budges half an inch, and lets you pass anyway. You stumble on her leg, and get your face into her curves. The people around you start laughing, as you get a lecture on 'etiquettes' towards women. Your cheeks turn red with embarrassment, and you run away from there like a road runner in a hurdle race. After encountering the same people on your way back, you finally reach your seat. But, you find your seat has already been occupied.
The auntie on the seat is an angry bird - both in her body shape and her temperament. From a minute of quick deduction, thanks to Sherlock, you figure out that she's the friend of your neighbour auntie, the one she talked about, the one with whom you had to exchange seats. Looks like she's already captured yours.
You try to take a step forward. Both the aunties give you a sharp look, as if you're a sex predator, and they karate experts ready to pin you down. You stop there. Even Sheldon Cooper wouldn't get his spot in such a situation.
You try to say something, but they turn away and resume their talking.
Saying they are vociferous would be an understatement. They are so loud that the entire coach can hear them. They laugh like witches designing an evil potion. They burp like they're going to rock the train over. And what they talk about could cause the entire compartment to give facepalms.
"Oye! Smell my perfume! It's awesome, right?"
"Haan yaar, where did you get this?"
"Arrey, I got it as a gift in Pinky's wedding. You know it's very costly... Others got sarees. I got this plus the perfume! That means I am her fav aunt..."
"Haye! I wanted to attend the wedding. Would've gotten a saree too!"
"I know. You should've come. The food was so delicious that I tried everything! Didn't leave a damn thing... And in the end, I barely managed to finish it all! Although Pinky wasn't looking that good in her lehenga during the wedding. She didn't even go to the parlour, you know? She didn't look that fair! Even the kaamwali Sarita was looking better than her!"
Shit just got real.
"As if the boy she's marrying is fair."
"Yeah. And you should have seen me dancing in Pinky's baraat! Everyone was looking at me, even Monu's mausa. I think he has a crush on me!"
"Hain?"
"Yes, yes, the way he was looking at my body, and then my dancing. I'm telling you... Anyways, he's not happy with Meenu. She is just a gold digger!"
Meanwhile, you are still standing there, having no idea what to do.
You try to make some space to sit, but they all give you looks. What?
"You go to my seat na... 42." says the angry bird.
Like a meek little animal, you obey. You go to the next compartment, and look around. There are people sitting all over. You try to make some space again. And everyone shoots you glances.
"There's no space here. Go somewhere else," says an uncle.
"I exchanged seats with that auntie," you say, calmly.
"So? That's not our problem."
My, my. If only someone could stab you at this moment.
You have an argument for five minutes, and it turns out that there are three people sitting there who don't actually have a seat. They have a 'Waiting' ticket.
"Excuse me, but I have a reserved seat. Let me sit," you say.
"This isn't your seat. Go sit on your seat," says the person without a seat.
You have another argument for nearly five more minutes, during which the seatless man gets emo, and throws in his tragedies of life. You feel like you're arguing with a chimpanzee. After few more minutes of T.V. serial drama, you are offered a few inches of space. Your butts squish with those of the adjacent person, such that if you were to squeeze any more, you'd turn into a diamond. Every now and then, the person opens up his legs as if he rules the seat. You wish for the nightmare to end.
After hours of continuous sitting and desperate attempts to avoid the 'seatless' maniac from capturing your little leftover of a seat, the Train Ticket Examiner (TTE) comes to examine the tickets. There's at least one thing in this entire journey that you don't have to worry about - your ticket. You proudly flaunt your ticket, and he signs on it. You can see all the Waiting List people hovering around him like flies around candy. The seat-snatcher who was just sitting beside you transforms into a flattering little baby. Words like 'sir', 'please', 'thank you', which are rarely a part of the Indian Railways Dictionary, are used in front of him. He just says "I'll see," and moves on.
Everyone gets back to their seats. The seat snatcher gives you evil stares.
The train moves further ahead, with time passing slower than an Indian queue moving forward. Everyone is jobless here, and everyone is trying to do something. You have completed half the journey. All that's left is a night to pass, and a bit of the morning. But you know better than to be relaxed. You don't expect anything good now, you just hope. Because you never know what could happen next...
To be continued...
Part 4 here
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