Encounters with age II

A regular working day means waiting endlessly for that divine being- rickshaw driver and his rickshaw! Both ready to take us to another hell called railway station!!!
Then comes the swimming through those swarming crowds…once I imagined that these people were tiny glittering fish…some under water oceanic miracle and I was a ruthless shark or at least some stingray that could DO something to make this swarming crowd disappear!!! But no! Harboring such fantasies doesn’t really help!! You have to make your way through the crowd, reach your destined platform before bracing for the next level in this real life game...That of entering the already overfull local train compartment!!!
It’s the first class ladies compartment mind you that I am talking about, nothing less...but then all this turns out to be is, scented cattle class…the comfort you get is the perfumes doused on equally rubbery boring and lumpy female bodies...which are packed too close to your own…So finally you enter! Only to either get pushed right IN to the middle of this seemingly collective mass or are left hanging out for dear life! Either ways it’s not at all pleasant!
So daily routines are such! Back n forth you do it! What I have done to deserve this!! Am not born for it!! All such protests are drowned in the drum of facts and statistics that millions are doing it for years…nothing great about it!!!
Such is the life in the economic capital of the country…but yeah, smaller snippets n incidents warm the bruised, bumped soul….making some journeys really worthwhile and filling you with joy!
I recently had one such wonderful journey…
As described above my real life game day began regularly...The rickshaw hunt, railway crowds and then finally IN to the mass!!
I was lucky to be pushed to one end of the compartment so that at least my spinal cord didn’t have to turn jelly for this trip!
After collecting my bearings, taking cognizance of my joints n purse…I noticed something very different…someone very different on board today!
A teeny weenie girl all of 3-3 1/2 years…trying to hold the overhead handles…all excited and happy about being “tall” happily perched on her mom’s arms!
I weakly smiled…muttering to myself addressing the girl…hey lil’ one...don’t u grow up soon...take your time…Live in open spaces… breathe fresh air…once grown up…these jam packed compartments shall await you…Till then why hurry…take it easy gal…
The girl began crying suddenly… Most ladies seemed to be indifferent… which surprised me! How can you not be attracted to an innocent kid!
But the most noteworthy part came up next…her mom… who looked like an average Mumbaikar female… tiny mangalsutra strung across her neck, thin to a level which scares me...pale...almost white...draped in formals, specs and a brave hair band to hold back those cropped hair from flying…
That girl-like lady was her Mom! I was like is the Santoor ad for real!!! She slowly hoisted the crying girl a bit higher, then started talking to her in baby words…pointing out to the train handles, other women in the compartment and again asking the girl to count the handles…try reaching them…not a single word in raised pitch, no irritation, no frustration on the lady’s part…being in a crowded train at peak hours with a small kid in tow, which is bawling away to glory isn’t the most nicest situations to be in!
But this lady seemed to know it all right! She slowly let the girl dry her tears, talked to her softly sweetly till that innocent smile radiated a familiar warmth on the girl’s face…This was I think a lesson for all the women around as well to control their tempers at least in crowded trains…but yes of course…such subtle lessons are for the sensitive soul..
I was intrigued, what makes this lady travel this way… where is she heading and why is she taking the child along? Is it that US culture of ‘take your child to work’ permeating through the corporate fabric of India?
Or the child is put in a crèche so far away? And if the nature of travel is casual why is the lady dressed in formals!
As a divine chance to quench my curiosity…the crowd jostled further for space and pushed me closer to this interesting mother-daughter duo…
Happy to be close with the kid, I playfully winked and smiled at her…got my chance and enquired what was the lady up to?
She replied almost naturally…well my daughter was curious to know where does mommy go every morning and come back only after she has slept! So I promised her one day to take her along to show her mommy’s side of life…so here I am with my toddler on this crowded train…will change trains and take her to office, sit around till she is bored and come back again…she smiled…Again going back to her daughter who was asking her mom, ‘do you count these (railway overhead handles) everyday?’
Her mom replied something…I was hardly attentive…my destination station was fast approaching…and my thoughts already flowing…what a wonderful parent she was…what a different approach to parenting, to teaching an individual to live! That lady was consciously nurturing empathy in her young daughter, showing her that she was living a life beyond her home…beyond her daughter…yet she did all this for her lovely daughter…
And I think the daughter also taught her mom and me at least a lesson in travelling that day…never lose out the novelty of the routine… the mundane can also be fun…so next time even I am going to count the overhead handles and giggle when they swing wildly in the fast local…

Encounters with age…

A busy suburban railway station….people rushing past, to and fro…no one seems to have time, for themselves, for others.

No one notices how they are all trying to be on time while time is chiseling away their lives…cutting all of them in shape for a perfect death…

A young woman standing on the foot over bridge of this crowded suburban station, i-pod playing a classical tune, a sharp contrast to the mayhem around her…she is in no hurry, just standing on the bridge and watching the world go by..surprisingly unfettered by the pace of populace around her…immersed deeply in her music, almost in a world of her own.

A creased and wrinkled hand stretched out from a equally wrinkled fading sari, broke her reverie…

The young woman just stared back from her glares…thankful about them shading her actual emotions…

Hurriedly wanting to brush away the reminder of age…she thrust in all the pennies she had into that outstretched hand. The older woman smiled a sad smile and returned the coins…her act almost jolted the younger woman…”I don’t like to beg, you look like a film star…but don’t you see that I am ashamed of begging I just came to ask you if this train could take me to Aurangabad…I don’t have enough for the fare so I have to beg…”

“When I was young, they said, why do you need education, just give birth to a son and your life is done! Believe me I did just that…My son died last year, his wife…my daughter in law, threw me out of the house. A woman befriended me and got me here, last night I heard her say, the old woman can earn a lot, she evokes a lot of sympathy…It broke my heart…I was ashamed of myself, saddened that life has brought me on this threshold from where there is no return…I tell you old age is a damned thing…you just rot, waiting to die..no one, no one cares for you…stand up on your own feet, never fall for the demands the society makes on you…”

“Did you eat something?”

“just tea since the morning”

“Wait, just wait here for a while, will you?”

“Were you disgusted that a woman like me stood next to you for a while and spoke to you about my life? Are you running away? I don’t need money..I needed someone to listen to me…”

“Yes I understand…just wait a while please, I shall return”

“…….”

The young woman returned with eatables and a bottle of water…handed it to the older woman, smiled warmly and left…

It was time for her train to arrive….she mixed effortlessly in the crowd, while those old ,moist, worn out eyes followed her for a while…

Hell-"O"

Not new to the blogosphere...its just one more territory conquered...the princess of poetry bares her steely urban quiver full of rhetoric and spice,sharpened by surival instincts...