As always time before a long journey is a big confusion. But we left home on time, me saying my goodbyes to ammuma who was sure her grand daughter is going to make it and appupan who, to my surprise, was very worried about my journey alone. Keep your bag under your head, don’t sleep head towards the door, don’t count money inside the train, even if you do not feel cold keep your head covered, whatever you want don’t get down at stations in between………words of wisdom from a worried grandfather to his inexperienced granddaughter. Uncle and mom accompanied me to the station. Unni uncle, my mother’s cousin, as his pet name means, he is small, too small to be called an uncle. Barely two years elder to me and I call him uncle and he cares enough to take me to the station like a dutiful uncle. Mom has deep thought written all over her face. Her youngest one is traveling alone today, traveling to an unknown territory, and traveling all set to pursue her dreams.
At the station the coolie carrying my bags directs us to the platform were my train, Kerala Express, would come. As we see the approaching train my mom says her heart is beating fast. Mine is not, I am composed as if I have been taking lone trips forever. When I excitedly load myself into my coach my mom has her nose deep in the passengers list stuck on to the door. One Mr. and Mrs. Mathew are traveling with me, matured couple, very good, but, there is a twenty seven year old Joyce too, but its OK the Mathews will be there any way, my moms review on the passenger list she just read. Then she climbs on the coach sits on my seat check the view and reassures herself. I look at my mom’s far off look through the window, she must be seeing herself as her daughter sitting alone and looking at the scenes going by the window. I see my mom’s sister; her husband and daughter come to the platform. They have come to see me off. He is a man of old ideologies who does not believe in any capabilities of women, yet, he has come with family to see me off and with the best wish too, his prayer that what is rightfully mine should come to me even if it is this career which he does not think is for women. When the honking for the start of the journey is heard I am at the coach door, being seen off by four pairs of caring eyes of elders and all the prayers I need to make my journey safe.
As I go and settle in my berth my thoughts are only my destination. The blanket man handing me over, the set of a pillow, two sheets, a blanket and a hand towel, interrupts my thoughts. He inquires were the Joyce supposed to be sitting opposite me is and I shrug my shoulder for that. I soon start my two days fruitless effort of concentrating on some books that definitely would be a good help for me. At the next station a foreigner couple enters with a ‘hi’ and the formal smile all of them have. So much for my mom’s mature couple, these must be the Mathews, they are young. Any way I am back with my books as they chat with each other. As the train starts to move the guy hurriedly gets down from the train and the girl comes and sits opposite me. Its Joyce, she is hesitant and formal at start, and when I put in the first effort, she is as if switched on to friendly mode. She briefs me her life so far and me mine. As a Holland girl into social work she came to India to participate in the activities of an orphanage in Delhi. After her assigned days of work were over she was using the rest of her time to travel around India. She tells me all the different things she has to face as a foreigner in India, unrealistic hike of prices for services, strangers asking to take her photo and yes I know Joyce all the locals think that fair skinned race is ready to bed with anyone, but is it entirely their fault. It is the kind of picture projected by your movies. Yes I don’t stare at you like a out of world thing and yes am talking to you like any other new person I meet that is because I was lucky enough to meet the people of other races outside the idiot box and hence know you too are like us, people with emotions and thoughts.
At the next station the Mathews get on, yes they are mature couple as my mom said. A caring lovely couple, Mr. Mathew loves to ask and enquire, I am sure without asking that he must have been into teaching and it turns out to be true, Mrs. Mathew is silent and observant. But they found some Christian friends of theirs and moved their seats nearer to them. So its back again to you and me Joyce, but this is convenient, we can read with our legs up on the seat we can talk when we feel like it or stare out the window, in few hours we met we have synchronized a lot. At night I ask you why you are padlocking your bags, you tell me that no matter how I treat you, you are still a foreigner to others, an easy target. Really Joyce, do people discriminate that much? You are just like any other friend of mine, yes you have become a friend in few hours, I tend to makes friends easily and you tell me so do you, that is why we met today and that is why you are going to be permanent part of my memory. I love watching the people who pass by, vendors, train staff and fellow passengers, and I soon understand what you are trying to tell me Joyce. Yes there is difference between the way they look at you and the way I am looked at. I can see the expressions for me, they range from - there’s a girl traveling alone for some purpose and why are you traveling alone dear, to a good looking female. But when they look at you their eyes are screaming ALIEN…yes I can see that Joyce dear and really do want to tell them not to stare at my friend please she is no different from me…but…all I can do is stare back at them and give them a taste at how it feels to be stared at. You smile at me as if to say it’s no use you can’t change a thing.
Half a day and a night is such along time, I know almost everything about my traveling partner, your family, your sister’s family, your life style, your best friend, your old boy friend, what you have been doing with your life and what you intend to do in the future. You really are great, your profession is social work and you tell me it is nothing just a well paying job easy to get into. You are helping children in a foreign country, learned an Hindi song for them and singing it in that ridiculous accent of yours, having tears at the thought of leaving them, stayed in lepers’ colony, admiring the abilities of a crippled leper, I don’t think you are just another person in just another well paying job. You in turn are telling me you admire my zest for life, my ability to see happiness in everything. Oh it’s nothing its just the way I am, just how I turned out to be, I just don’t know were my temper and my obsessive care on disappointments have disappeared. Now anger and depressions are momentary, it disappears as soon as it comes, so now it is very easy for me to smile and I am almost always happy.
Hey, the new couple, our passage smile partners, have now almost permanently shifted to the seat here. They must be feeling comfortable here because we are the kinds who do not stare. This couple from north India who is on their honeymoon in south, they have their north Indian traveling partners but prefer our non bothering kind of company. Why do you have a sparkle in your eyes Joyce? I ask you without words and you understand. Love is in the air you wink.
That is leading us to our conversation on love. I thought you would never understand why I never fell in love, but you perfectly understand that when I say that yes I do find guys attractive and all but I have not found anyone yet I would fall in love with. You tell me about your relationships too. You say that you could never understand how anyone could agree to arrange marriages, but after your stay in India you perfectly understand. Look at this couple here.
It is almost evening now and the new bride, who was so far sitting in a figure hugging salwar suit, turns up in gorgeous sari and her husband has a sympathetic glance at her. We are surprised why the guy is so disappointed when his wife is looking so gorgeous. He is telling us that his family is too traditional and insists on putting the pullah of the sari over the head and all. So the freedom of his new bride ends here in this train coach. Now she is going to be always wound up in a five-meter cloth with her head covered, the strings attached to the gift of life he has given her. When the groom steps out to see how near they are to the station the girls gives us a quick explanation that his love will make up for her sacrifices. Hope so is the prayer for her from both of our hearts, when they get down at their destination.
Now it’s you and me again. We intend to talk till we both can manage to stay awake, because I will get down at four in the morning and that will be the last we will be seeing of each other. As it is with good travel companions, you make the deepest possible friendship though there is no hope that we will meet again. We exchange addresses and hugs before your rituals before sleeping of padlocking. You drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, a smile for me. I am a bit restless, I get down at four in the morning in a strange place where I may or may not find my destiny, but I know the place is going to be a permanent part of my memory, after all it has been a life long dream of mine to attend the Service Selection Board testing procedure, whether I make it or not, I used to tell mom time and again.
When I get down at my station it is still dark. The assigned vehicle will pick me up only at two in the afternoon; I have full ten hours to spend in a strange station. I walk the length of the platform, I can sit in the upper-class waiting room, but I don’t intend to spend my first ten hours in Bhopal staring at some walls and bathroom doors. So I pick a cozy bench near the coffee stand and sit down with my bags all set around me. As soon as I settle in, the coffee stand man, as if he read my mind, comes with a cup of hot coffee, no not a cup of coffee but tiny cute earthen pot with hot coffee, innovation thanks to a new Railway Minister’s vision to help the traditional potters, the coffee is a treat to my body while the pot is a treat to my mind. But Minister sir can u see how my heart breaks when I have to throw these cute pots into the dumpster after use. I am watching all the co platform occupants over my pot of coffee. And to think that I was wondering earlier what I would do for the long time I have to wait in this station, now I can spend all day if the people and coffee keep flowing like this.
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