Feb 03, '10
It was nearing 11 in the night. I was changing ‘karvat’ on the bed, trying to sleep early (!) so to get up early next morning. I had to go to Dadar Station that afternoon. My wife was coming from Chennai, after 2 months back at home. I was away in somewhere in the middle of the dacoitland, in a place called Auriya, some 80 kms from Kanpur on deputation. I was back to Bombay just a few days ago. As usual, she went hometown to spend time with her family and was coming back to join me in Bombay. My work base was Bombay and I was traveling around India for work those days. Two months passed in a wink and the two days seemed to be two years. Man, staying alone was so much fun when I was a bachelor in the same house a year ago and now everything is different, everything has changed. Nothing else seems to amuse as it used to be. Mind tells me to just stay home and kill time till tomorrow comes. Sometimes I attempted cooking and some other times dined out.
Well, I am talking about 1989. Almost 20 years ago. No mobile phones, no emails no sms’s. Only communication was land line telephone. And I remembered very well the last time I spoke to her was about 7 days ago, when I told her to book her train tickets for return to Bombay. And I will be speaking to her only when she alights at Dadar station. Seems unreal, Ain’t it? True it was then. Tried to rewind about 10 months of our married life, the goods, the bads and the real uglies that passed in that few months of life. It seemed that so much had happened in 10 months than past 10 years. And that’s what marriage is I understood. How can someone come into my life and change everything in me - The way I dress, eat, sleep behave etc.
Didn’t know when I dozed.
Drrrriiiiinnnngggg…
Alarm went at 6 and jumped out of the bed.
Got ready and started from Vashi to catch a bus to Mankhurd. Those days, no railways to Vashi and only connectionwas the old road bridge. Sometimes it took clear hour and a half to reach Mankhurd from Vashi. The train was supposed to arrive at noon and I set off from home at 9.30am.
Reached Dadar station at around 10 to 11.
Still full one hour to kill.
Was pacing the platform, watching everything and everyone there on the platform, who had settled in Bombay and their near/ dear ones traveling in the train - Husbands, wives, children, old people – all varieties of people were there, like me an hour early on the platform, waiting for the train to arrive.
Every minute was moving like a snail and I must have been looking at the watch every other minute, the watch seemed to tell back to me ‘Man everything takes its time…’.
11.10, I went to the canteen there and bought myself a cup of tea.
Tried to sip it as slow as possible, mind went wandering, ‘she must have put on weight, just eating, eating and sleeping at home.
I had lost about 6 kg weight in 2 months, as there was practically nothing available at Auriya except some shabby rice and the only vegetable that I saw was tendli. Temperatures were souring at 55 Deg. C. and was taking its toll on us. Working 12-14 hours a day, no surprise one loses weight, but wasn’t complaining. I was 28 and when else one can ‘work’?
11.20. Went to the black color board, similar to the ones in elementary schools those days, to see if the trains had been on time or any delay.
There was nothing written there and I asked someone if the train was on time and he said ‘Agar Us Board mein nahieen likhaa to, time pe hogaa.’ (If its not written on that board, it must be on time.)
The ETA was 11:55.
It was only 11:20. Man, another 35 minutes to kill?
Was staring at the entry of the station, where the train was supposed to come in. The platform by itself was sprawling outwards and the tracks were emanating from where I stood slowly disappearing into oblivion. Of course, no cell phones, no i-pods, no way to spend time in music. I had a Sony Walkman of those days, but didn’t take it with me, as I had to travel in bus/train combinations. Humming some Tamil tunes, again I walked up and down the platform.
Thoughts went flying…
. . . . . Why is it that every time someone goes by train and most of the people who come to send them off end up crying. This I had noticed even before marriage. Every time I traveled alone in train, I used to watch the people – inside and outside the train at the station. People come in a group of 10-15, and may be one or a couple or a family or sometimes a girl/ lady would be traveling and others – near and dear ones come to send them off. Most of them must be traveling back to their workplace and could only be seen again after probably 1 year or so. And landline telephones were luxury and only communication was posts.
The traveling people come in, set their baggages in safe place, settle down and then get down to have those final words with their loved ones outside.
Somebody goes for coffee for all, somebody is filling the water bottles for the travel.
Someone else has brought home-made food packages, for their entire journey in a separate plastic basket.
The time of train departure is nearing.
It would be 10 minutes and the station bells goes.
First Bell.....
Suddenly the entire atmosphere changes, everyone start to move closer to each other, final words – take care’s, convey love’s, eat well’s, take medicine’s, don’t forget to take oil bath weekly’s, drop a letter as soon as you reach’s, call me when you are home’s. – all kind of last minute advises, instructions being shared either way.
One could see this happening at almost every window of the train.
5 minutes passes and
Second Bell goes.....
Station Master whistles and people hurry to their seats.
Now almost everyone inside the train are scrambling through their respective windows and people outside are taking turns to give the hand-shakes, hugs and kisses.
Now there are tears in half of the people and others are only trying to control.
Final Bell goes....
and the Engine gives a majestic huge Whistle announcing the departure.
People inside and outside have their hands in each other’s hands, cuddling, holding so tight as if to keep the train from moving.
Tears roll and so do the train wheels.
Screeching and screaming, the train moves slowly and now you see some people start slowly running with the train, while others stand and capture the last glimpse of their loved ones framed in the train’s windows for safe keeping until next year or next meeting.
I used to wonder why this kind of emotional boil-down only at train stations?
Why not in bus stations or airports?
The probable reason I could connect was the slow build up of the events there. At airports, you leave the passengers and they vanish into the airport. You don’t really see them taking off. At bus stations too it is too common and buses don’t go that far and hence less emotions there too.
But at train stations, people – loved ones gather more than a hour before and in their minds only thing is that their loved one is going to leave them soon. This soon is diminishing very slowly and steadily in their minds and adding the emotional pressure in their hearts. And added to that is the slow – very, very slow departure of the train from the station. If the train leaves in a second or two from the sight, it doesn’t really make as much impact as it does when it is moving very slowly – cruelly slowly taking the loved ones from your sight – meter by meter and you stand there helpless and totally feel lost.
. . . . . .
Suddenly there was a rumble in the station and people started moving towards the platform and I came back to the present. Yes. At a distance I could see the engine, again moving towards us slowly, pulling in to the station. The train came to a halt and everyone including me, were running either side to locate the coach and the persons.
When I finally located the coach and saw her already outside standing on the platform with her bags. And to my surprise, she had brought her little cousin sister with her, who were going to stay with us for a month. That was not known to me (remember, this was 1989 and no mobiles).
I held her hand in my hands and put my arms around the kid’s shoulders and with porter helping the bags to the taxi, we set off to Vashi, New Bombay, feeling like all the happiness in the world gifted to me.
Are we having these kind of pleasures and pains now?
With all the advancements in communications, tracking and be tracked almost every minute of our lives, have we not missed those pleasant pains of painful pleasantries?
Well, time doesn’t stop and change doesn’t change.
Relishing, reliving those moments are always priceless pleasure, mixed with peace of mind in the right proportions, giving the satisfaction like nothing else in life.
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