No Compartments

I don't like travelling by trains.
This is a moment to collapse the illusion of Cause  and effect, because my statement has nothing to do with the recent rail saga, sad as it is. It's  just the sheer..every man or woman for himself (or herself) syndrome.

This view of mine was challenegd yesterday, as I tarvelled to cross maidan for the Indo-Greman festival..I think it was the heat..I didn't want to be in traffic for any longer that I had to and hence the train option (yes ,. I agree it is very convinient)

As I sat, nonchalant, with my ear plugs plugged and listening to "O re duniya"..from gulal..Ironic as it was..(well its a song which says what use is this self absorbed world?)
The other reason why I sometimes venture into a train is the sheer joy of browsing through the cheap wares that the women/boys sell..even if I never use those things, that and the fact that it also gives me something to do.

This day, as I sat ..not particulary noticing anything..In, rushed a mother of two..very young childern..who just coudln't keep quiet. That and about 4 bags, each about half the size fo the youngest child.

As she sat, rummmanging throiugh the bags to get something for the kids to eat...In breezed one of my favourite people in the train..a lady selling 'gajaras' - jasmine flowers stringed together meant to adorn your hair (or whatever is left of it)

Our tired; yet enthusiastic mom..somehow manages to surface from amidst the bags and the children..to look up, as the sweet frangrance of the jasmine flowers wafts into  our compartment..and like the sole bright ray of sun peeping from behind a trall concrete building..she beams...( I swear she looked like she would have jumped for joy, had she not had the  bags, the kids and the the learnt ability to act grown up)

The lady selling the gajaras ..catches the beam..these women can read signals , I can tell you that...our sales people should learn a thing or two about prospecting from them;  but that is another subject.

I watch with peaking interest as the transaction happens , complete with bargaining ..and an extra flower thrown in..Our mom..buys 4 gajras (yes..it was a deal after all)..and after the woman selling getsoff ....reality dawns..and the fisrt sign of realization starts showing on our moms face..What is she going to DO with the gajras..because she does not have the ONE thing that is required to wear it...yes a  Bob-pin ( I know we have almost forgotten words like these - but the trains  are a good reminder).

Disappointed and dejected..the sun again gone behind the concrete...   just as she was about to brutally shove the deliacte flowers wrapped in green leaf...something amazing happened !!!
another lady , possibly a regular working woman..from diagonally opposite side , happend to see  all this and did something that took me and our mom by surprise ...

She got up and walked to our side and just took out  a 'bob-pin' which she was wearing..and handed over to our mom with a smile... gave it without too much explanation or talk and walked back..quitely to her seat...barely acknowledging the confused..grateful thankyou smile...of the estatic recipient.

Our mom, took the pin put the gajaras , all four, in her hair and the sun and the smile - was back on....
and so was the overall spirit in the compartment on this hot sultry day..I looked up at the faces of other women ..most of them had a faint...almost knowing smile... each possibly  rembering a random act of kindness..or thinking of oppurtunities of doing one....

I went back to the fragility of my judgements..and deep sense of satisfcation..that despite evreything that the newspapers say is happening wrong with the world...Humaninty exixts..in these small pockets...of a  train without compartments.

The heat and train somehow bother me less.

All is well with the world.