Me and my mother usually go by train to Mysore. Mainly because it’s more airy and that it doesn’t make my mom feel nauseous. Going back to the city we lived 6 years ago makes me a little sad because I don’t get to visit as much as I’d like to.
Traveling by train sure does result in several new experiences. Food vendors, daily wage workers, the occasional travelers, tourists, students to people going home after work, you’ll see them all.
People pushing and walking in and out with no place to stand or sit. It’s quite common to find the walking area between bogies and seats filled with people sitting.
Once every few minutes, food vendors selling tea, coffee, charmuri and maddur vade ( a type of vada/fried delicacy ) fill the confined space of the bogie with respective smells.
The evening trains, may it be a slow passenger or a super fast express they are jam-packed with people, especially on Fridays and the weekends. Today was one such friday. Amidst the packed train bogie there are a few good people. Here I was standing with my backpack hoping escaping from the pushing and hoping fewer shoes stamp mine and a kind soul sports me. This person gets up and offers me his seat. People come and go as the stations change ( Similar to the concept of life) and the bogie becomes much more easy as everyone now has a seat to sit on. The train keeps moving on tracks above the ground and bridges over a river as the destination nears. Few snacks later with a little of Billy Joel, Simple plan, Abba and Green day blaring from my earphones, I’m forced to drop them as the man sitting in front of my seat questions me about what I want to take up in college upon learning that I completed 12th standard. Just about every other person! The train nears further closer to my destination as the man gets down the train.
The scene outside my window consists of silhouette of various types of trees paired with occasional specks of street lights and passing trains which block my view and get me to block my ears.
The city of Mysore appears through my window frame and this gets me to pack my earphones and phone inside. Soon I find a man and a woman staring at me as if I were a lunatic. I wonder which one of my actions were peculiar. My mother smiles and me and I smile back when I realise that they stared at me because I was retrieving the empty packets of lays and toffee from the back of my jean pocket and stuffing it in the bag compartment.
Crazy indeed ! Oh not me, but them.