Train Travels...

Am descending the stairs at top speed! The train screeches to a halt. I rush in. The train is almost empty. I don’t realise this. I still make sure I get a seat. So does a lady in green, child in tow and a toddler dragging himself. The only support to his nimble feet: tugging at her pallu.

I generally read a book, also have earphones plugged. I hear my music loud. I usually cannot hear a thing being said by fellow passengers. Perhaps silence is the best way to observe what sound does not reveal.

The saree is untidy. The kid is dirty. The baby is muddy. Baby cries. Toddlers sniffs. But wait! Its not sadness! Baby is active, his eyes darting from left to right! He is hungry. So is the kid. Out comes a bundle of loosely wrapped newspaper. In it is the favourite snack of Mumbai people. "sukha Bhel".

It’s interesting how as a kid I would have excitement flooding my eyes only if I was given something really special. This kid has the same amusement, sparkle in the eye and happiness stuffing his face with bhel. He drops it down, there is sev all over the place. He chuckles! He smiles! He holds it out to me. He wants to share.

Mother is having bhel, occasionally pops some into the baby's mouth. Can you feed the baby bhel? I wonder.. He seems to be enjoying it though. He has stopped crying.

I look around. All seats occupied with glum faced travellers. None is smiling. Expensive looking sarees, leather bags, jewellery and perfumes. No happiness on the face.

The mirth I saw in those kids was unique and incomparable to the stoic expressions of the others in the train. It takes very less to make this trio happy. Mother is smiling, baby chuckling, kid laughing. Bhel is over. Time for them to alight. Saree blurs, baby is hoisted up and that is the last I see of them.

I smile.