It was the Diwali day. Everything for the day was planned. I was supposed to spend the night in my Local Guardians house. I was invited to have my share of enjoyment in bursting crackers, and then counsel my cousins (younger to me) because of the obvious fact that I bear an IIT tag; believe me, I am adept at doing the latter thing (It all comes with experience). The accessories being many- get my clothes washed, get some great food and so on.
It all began well. I reached Guindy railway station in some 20 minutes. A 10-minute train journey from there, followed by a 2 min walk, I would be at the doorsteps of " enjoyment". I took the tickets and was going onto the platform. I had only a rupee in my pocket, and I was very much aware of it. I denied it from going into beggars' possession who made many unsuccessful attempts to get it from a certain me, who was stubborn at that moment. I've decided to use that insignificant rupee coin, to know my weight, and I was proud that I didn’t waste it. The moment came. I saw a weighing machine in front of me, put my bag down, removed my chappal so as to avoid any possible perturbations in my weight due to the presence of extra stuff (except clothes), and stepped up onto the machine. I delivered the rupee coin in; it went in and nothing came out. The only rupee coin I had was lost and lost forever. . Then started the moments of regret. I looked at one of the beggars and the smile on his face when he received 50Ps from somebody else. I was ashamed of myself for my act of wasting the rupee, which neither benefitted me, nor the beggar.
All these thoughts disappeared from my mind as soon as the train came. I was thinking of the future to come and mentally preparing myself for the lecture session, a hithopadesa to my cousins which will be dramatized in such a wonderful manner that, if you are an alien to my counseling (to be read as cock putting) abilities and happen to listen to one such session, you will write JEE again and pass it. My cousins are very much immune to scenes like this and they do their part in the drama (listening and posing as if they are impressed), well. Everything is forgotten, and I’m forgiven afterwards.
The train halted and I was back to my business (a very tough task) of finding a non-ladies compartment and getting into it. It always happened that whichever compartment could accommodate me was a ladies compartment. A normal compartment in Chennai local train is always crowded. This makes the task of getting a place in non-ladies compartment all the more difficult. I managed to get some place in some vendors’ coupe, atlast.
The train started, and so started a song just beside me. A small girl started singing standard 'train' songs. Her sister, barely 2 feet above the ground, went to each passenger and begged for money. When this little girl approached a gentleman in shots, he immediately started a conversation with his neighbour about the pathetic situation of such girls in particular and beggars in general. The gentleman introduced as his neighbour, is of a diametrically opposite view. He feels that begging is a way in which the laziest of people are assured of their livelihood.
An interesting debate triggered. The girl had to wait for her rupee, which I doubted if she would ever get. The debate got hot and suddenly the song stopped. Reason: the girl singing the song was hit by a man, who felt that the song was a disturbance to the passengers in train. The girl looked helplessly at him, and at others expecting a possible support. The debate went on as if nothing happened. The little girl near the gentlemen was signaled to come back.
The train halted at St.Thomas Mount. Girls were asked to get down. The elder one of the two received one more shot. I wanted to stop him and say that he didn’t have any right to touch her, and under article 14 of the indian constitution he is liable to punishment (child harassment.) But, I needed support. ‘It takes guts to retaliate’-I realized my friend Shantanu’s statement. If somebody started a revolt, I could take over. The girl was obviously unaware of her rights and looked around helplessly again, with anger on her face. No response from anybody. Even from those gentlemen who had very strong convictions apparently. The girls were shown the way out. They got down from that compartment and got into some other compartment. Our man wasn’t satisfied even then. He wanted them out of the train. There wasn't much that he could do then as the train started.
The next five minutes passed as if nothing happened. Then came Palavanthangal, my destination and also the man’s. Our man went to the next compartment, caught the elder girl's ponytail and started one more kind of torture. I stood there, and seriously wanted to stop him. But, motivation couldn't overcome inertia even this time. Train started and went with the girl in it. Man went home as I did.
Nobody was sensitive to the girl’s feelings. Even if they were, they were too lazy to revolt as I was. At the end of it one fact remains obvious: " We are all very good at debating on social issues and addressing the concerns of the speechless and the downtrodden in the form of giving speeches on insignificant occasions. But when it comes to real situations, we are too lazy (to be read as- don't care as it doesn't involve me) to deliver, for it requires something far greater than the jugglery of vocabulary in which we are all good at"
