Sunday, 15 March 2015

Look Up Stories: From Strangers While Travelling

I was a very lazy person. Commuting is one thing I hate to the core of my being even today. But now I am a better person, a person who doesn't make faces or feel tired at just the concept of travelling as I used to earlier, long ago. 

The story goes like this. I had to commute to work in another city. I lived in a small town and trains were not as frequent as you would want them to be. If you missed a train the next one would be after 3-5 hours. I had to travel for 4 hours in a local train, full of people, courtesy Indian population just to reach another destination and after eight hours of a hectic day I had to come back via the same route with greater population of daily commuters mingled with the happy and gay travelers. Since these trains were rare between our place and the next city they were always crowded and even today i wonder "where do so many people go every day?". Well the reality is the idea of the percentage growth in Indian population can simply be estimated by estimating it's population. Every year out of the total number of couples that get married, fifty percent bear children and the cycle continues each year, making the probability of you getting a seat while commuting slimmer each day. It’s not the travel but this suffocation while travelling that makes one tired.

Being a woman that wasn't all. Once we get back we also have to cook, fold the clothes that the made had washed, arrange the utensils, check the kid's homework. A mother works as much to run a family as does a prime minister to run the entire nation. However we are not acknowledged and so we crib like I used to, until the day she met me. Clad in a simple white saree, no accessories, her ling her plated into a neat pony tail and was unruffled by entire days work and travel. Her face and gait look tired as she clutched the hanger that kept her glued to the little space she had found for herself in a tightly packed compartment. She must be in her sixties but her smiled like that of a teenager, her spirit too. She smilingly gave way to vendors whose children ate better the day there were more commuters on the train, whom we would just scold angrily. Her wisdom better than ours, would make space for them miraculously from a sea of packed bodies, each ready to kill another by squeezing for some extra space. 

I was having a good day as I was sitting. I luckily got one as I managed to climb in first. One of those rare days where I won't be so exhausted I thought. But this woman made me think what she ate. As she kept standing and was older I offered her my seat which she took only after initial resistance as to me it was no less than Gollum's ring "my precious" or may be she saw the battle I fought with a small noise within me, the cry baby that said I was tired too. Anyways the principles always won and hence I gave it to her. She sat, drank some water and started chatting with me. Out of curiosity I asked her how was she so alive? She just smiled. I think she didn't want to share and so I left at that. Then we changed the topic to what we did. She was a social worker. She administered different groups for an NGO. Her work included teaching prostitutes about using contraceptive measures, helping them rehabilitate, putting street children in homes, educating slum children, helping women who have been victims of physical abuse and so on. In essence she nurtured the discarded and helped them stand up again. She then said her husband passed away an year after her marriage, her in laws blamed it on her and her brother had his own family. She wanted a life of respected and so she started living in a home for people like her and now she supports all of them, whom the society discards for no fault of theirs.

She then just said one thing "When you see life going away so closely each day, in a child on the footpath taking drugs, in a prostitute dying of AIDS she contracts or a woman being burnt alive for dowry, you celebrate every breath". I was shaken into reality and realized what I complained about was so trivial. It was time for her to get down and while leaving she just turned back and gave me a smile. The smile that meant so much and to me it is the world’s most purest and beautiful smile.

When I am sad for trivial matters, I think about people with greater problems and I feel mine are just plastic. Sometimes sharing a roof with a stranger can give you lessons for life.  

 https://housing.com/lookup helps you find a friend in a place when you are new and may be they will be your friend , philosopher and guide for life. #LookUp their site today.




No comments:

Post a Comment