Saturday, October 30, 2004
In the Journey
When I stepped into the compartment of the train to Belgaum and saw four white co-travellers, I did pause for a moment. They wore printed cotton t-shirts and trousers that came close to pajamas. Evidently they had travelled the previous 24 hours from Delhi and had another 12 hours to Goa, the beaches.
The bald and bearded gentleman was overjoyed to see the book of Mulla Nasruddin's tales in my hand. He was reading Osho. His girlfriend was sketching with crayons in her notebook. They spoke a language I could not make out. Then I started listening to the conversation of the couple that sat opposite. I could make out the English accent. I quite like the twang or whatever they speak with.
The English girl was getting rattled by the constant swinging and chatter of about half a dozen kids in the train. They kept holding the handles and taking swings. The kids were going to Goa after giving their exams and their parents weren't bothered with their antics.
In one such swing, the kid held on to the skirt of the English girl, who had stood up just then. It got pulled down a wee bit and she went white with embarrassment and hid her face in the shawl for some time. I noticed the last part of this momentary tug. My companion- it turned out to be a Russian beauty - did not notice anything. The English girl asked her, did you see what happened? She was relieved that the Russian hadn't seen it. Her irritation with the kids started shooting up. She shooed them away twice.
When meals were served, I asked the girl if they were English. She said yes. I told her I quite liked the accent. She thanked me. Just then another kid came and stood near watching the contents of my plate. I asked him what he wanted. His gaze was fixed on some sticker. Perhaps there was some contest for the kids who collected 10s of these stickers. I gave the sticker to him. The English girl said, "rascals, aren't they?" I said yes. "But children would be children", she was trying to reason with herself. "Yes, but there is a limit to their pranks. Parents have to tell the children how to behave in the company of adults. We keep telling adults how to treat children. That's fine and there is a time for children also to grow up and learn to keep quiet." She agreed. The grandma of one of the kids overheard this conversation, took the hint and called her ward to order and peace.
Both the foreign couples were quite engrossed with what they were doing and with each other as the lights were turned off. I searched for evidence of drug usage, as I placed these people in the Hippies. I didn't find any traces, they were healthy, eating a lot of fruit(the English girl said tropical fruit were very expensive in UK) and did not smoke much. They wore simple and decent clothes, unlike the hippies.
I got in touch with so many of my own preconcieved notions about hippies and the like. When it became too much, I fell asleep.
The bald and bearded gentleman was overjoyed to see the book of Mulla Nasruddin's tales in my hand. He was reading Osho. His girlfriend was sketching with crayons in her notebook. They spoke a language I could not make out. Then I started listening to the conversation of the couple that sat opposite. I could make out the English accent. I quite like the twang or whatever they speak with.
The English girl was getting rattled by the constant swinging and chatter of about half a dozen kids in the train. They kept holding the handles and taking swings. The kids were going to Goa after giving their exams and their parents weren't bothered with their antics.
In one such swing, the kid held on to the skirt of the English girl, who had stood up just then. It got pulled down a wee bit and she went white with embarrassment and hid her face in the shawl for some time. I noticed the last part of this momentary tug. My companion- it turned out to be a Russian beauty - did not notice anything. The English girl asked her, did you see what happened? She was relieved that the Russian hadn't seen it. Her irritation with the kids started shooting up. She shooed them away twice.
When meals were served, I asked the girl if they were English. She said yes. I told her I quite liked the accent. She thanked me. Just then another kid came and stood near watching the contents of my plate. I asked him what he wanted. His gaze was fixed on some sticker. Perhaps there was some contest for the kids who collected 10s of these stickers. I gave the sticker to him. The English girl said, "rascals, aren't they?" I said yes. "But children would be children", she was trying to reason with herself. "Yes, but there is a limit to their pranks. Parents have to tell the children how to behave in the company of adults. We keep telling adults how to treat children. That's fine and there is a time for children also to grow up and learn to keep quiet." She agreed. The grandma of one of the kids overheard this conversation, took the hint and called her ward to order and peace.
Both the foreign couples were quite engrossed with what they were doing and with each other as the lights were turned off. I searched for evidence of drug usage, as I placed these people in the Hippies. I didn't find any traces, they were healthy, eating a lot of fruit(the English girl said tropical fruit were very expensive in UK) and did not smoke much. They wore simple and decent clothes, unlike the hippies.
I got in touch with so many of my own preconcieved notions about hippies and the like. When it became too much, I fell asleep.
# posted by Bhupatkar @ 6:15 AM 
