I absolutely
love travelling by train. I think the most interesting part of a train journey would be the kind of people one encounters. From the orchestra of snorers, the pint sized terrors who run around despite warnings from their tired mums, over chatty men who get too comfortable and of course some decent travelers.
An engrossing book and a
huge bag of chips and I'm all set for an overnight journey.
This time I was travelling from Cochin to Bangalore which was an overnight journey that I encountered an individual,
the likes of whom I can tell you without batting an eyelid, I have never come
across afterward and hope I never ever will in my lifetime.
What was so bad about one little trip and one little old lady passenger you may
wonder. Well the first point being she had a rather potent case of the
"seriousness" virus. And point two, I was stuck in a moving train
with no escape till the break of dawn.
I'm sure the lot of you may have met someone seriously whiney and complexed
atleast once in your life. Now take all of those people, combine them together
and presto you get my little old lady passenger.
Let me tell you my story.
So it all happened one evening. I picked up my usual stack of magazines, books,
chips and snacks and boarded my compartment. There were just three other
passengers besides myself. An old lady, a man who seemed to be her husband and
a middle aged man who was already dozing off.
The lady was in mid sentence when I got into the compartment.
"...these trains never leave on time. I don't know what time we will
reach Bangalore. I promised Nishu we'd be there at 8:30 sharp..." Her
husband was staring hard outside the window with a desperate expression on his
face.
I had a huge bag with me and I tried to excuse myself so that I could place it
under the old lady's seat. I think from then on my fate was sealed.
"Oh my god! What are you doing pushing that bag under my seat. Can't you
see that I am sitting here? Girls nowadays have no manners!" (it's not
like she was sitting under the seat and I did excuse myself! )
Her husband promptly jumped up and helped me push my bag in elsewhere. I
noticed that his expression had changed from desperation to apologetic.
My seat was right opposite the lady's and unperturbed by her outburst I settled
down with my bags and chips and started reading. To my utter alarm she started
commenting loudly about my magazine. "You would think girls nowadays
would read some intellectual stuff. Just look at the cover! A skinny model in
skimpy clothes and look look! 40 secrets to improve your bedroom
relations!!" I looked up in shock. Oblivious to my glare she continued to
her aghast husband "my Nishu would never read trash like this. She reads
only good books. All study books and some approved novels. Girls
nowadays! Tch tch!"
I opened my mouth to retort when I saw her husband give me an imploring look.
For some reason I kept quiet. Little did I know that this was just the calm
before the storm!
To occupy myself I tore into my bag of chips and started downing them. The lady
wouldn't let that pass either. In a rather unnecessarily loud voice she whined
about how girls nowadays didn't care about what they put into their stomachs.
That no wonder all of them were fat and that her precious Nishu stuck to her super healthy rice and
veges.
"Oh just stop it Radha. Must you complain about everything?" her
husband (let's just call him uncle to keep things easier) said in extremely
exasperated tones just as I was about to open my mouth. Again the imploring
look. I guessed it was uncles way of telling me not to bite off more than I
could chew.
I thought it best not to open my mouth as uncle got a volley of whines right
after his dialogue. ("You always say I complain when I'm just stating
facts! How I managed to stay married to you for so many years I can never
comprehend!")
Till lights out the lady had complained about everything in sight (me being the
main target "Nishu always dresses so
modestly! None of this jeans and t shirt nonsense" and "Nishu always
says her prayers before going to bed. That's why only some girls will go to
heaven") She whined about the middle aged mans snores, the lack of range
on her mobile, how dirty the train floor was, how uncle never irons his shirts
properly, how her darling Nishu would have to wait for so long to receive them
(later learnt that Nishu was their grand daughter whom they
were going to meet after a gap of 8 years) and so on and so forth.
Her whining turned out to be a joke between uncle and I. She would whine, we'd
make eye contact and supress an uncontrollable urge to guffaw at the very
craziness of the situation.
Finally the lady fell asleep. I think even her snores were seriously whine tainted.
All was quiet till morning except for the two times she woke up and claimed
that my snoring was keeping her up and how scratchy the train blankets were.
The moment the train reached Bangalore I grabbed my bag and bounded down thinking
of making a hasty exit before I was bombarded with a breakfast of whine
("Nishu always brushes her teeth even in the train" or something on
the same line)
Before I headed off I felt an urge to wait and check out who their precious
Nishu was. I mean I had heard about all her amazing virtues. The girl seemed a
goddess as far as her grandmother was concerned. I really wanted to see who it
was that was so appropriate in the "Whiner of the century s eyes".
So I stood unnoticed behind a pillar and waited for Nishu to make her grand
appearance. The lady and her husband stood a little away from the
platform constantly checking the sea of passengers.
"Ammamma! Appappa!" I heard from the distance. And Nishu appeared. My
eyes popped out of my skull and so did madam whiners.
Her Nishu was not the Nishu she'd expected. This Nishu was tatooed extensively,
sporting a rather funky haircut in an outrageous shade of purple and wearing
extremely short and tight clothes. It was all I could do to not fall flat on
the platform and die laughing!
I noticed that the lady was white in the face and as silent as could be. Tried
as I might I couldn't resist the urge to breeze by them, lock my eyes with hers
and say "Bye Aunty! Have fun with Nishu!" Uncle finally let out that
guffaw he'd been holding in for so long.
I still cant stop laughing in this memory :)
