First Hour of 6.10 L P

The clean clothes after the early morning bath,spilling fragrance of  different soaps, added to the fresh morning look, to catch the morning undisturbed sitting or standing  nap on one leg or one bum or just perched on the edge.This was  the sole privilege the women enjoyed, in the morning 6.10 local passenger, ladies compartment. 

By the time they woke from the power nap which  some continued,  the aroma of eating packed breakfast would sail across, with hands washed out of the windows or wiped with cloth lest you lost your space. However there were always a considerate few, who sat for one hour and gave their standing counterparts some respite. 

There was this women who got her daughter married with as many loans she could muster, the repayment of which would perhaps would continue even after she retired. She was sad with tears  as how to handle the first delivery of her child. Her husband suffered a stroke and without timely medication was paralyzed and bedridden. She spoke with love of her good old days and never thought of her husband as a burden. She was the epitome of love and sunshine though deep in debts. Whom to ask , how to ask she thought as she swallowed her tears.

Then there was this Mary who had long past her marriageable age . Reason dowry constraint. Yet she looked forward  to that one day when the maid would become a woman. She cringed and saved every last penny for there was none to vouch for her back home. She even saved the fifty paise every  morning her bus fare when she managed to get a lift to the railway station.

Julie’s is another tale to tell. The whole bogie came to a standstill hearing her cries. She lost the back screw of her earring. All the women were on their knees scrambling not bothered about the well starched  sari’s crumpling, lending a hand . It was like searching for a needle in a haystack. The earring was the smallest any one could buy but for her it was the costliest thing she had.  Her heart wrenching cries made us all cringe with shame. She was beautiful and joyful person .But now the sadness and sorrow showed on her face.

Now, proposals for bride and groom  was a common norm in trains, as  the flow of lives emerged with natural grace. Soon a proposal came by to accept her as she was. Simply put when we go to buy vehicles in "as is condition". The daily friends contributed to buy her clothes and the little paraphernalia she would love. She was overwhelmed with joy and gave us a chocolate each. The marriage was solemnized in her local perish with just the people needed.

Occasional fights were a common sight but no one bothered with these trivialities. Every morning without fail the first few moments were spent in prayer with groups singing praising the Lord. There was no competition. The groups which travel led together had their space which no one intruded as at the end of the day everyone’s mission was the same.

The 6.10 Local Passenger !

Now this was the cheapest daily mode, to the countless many , who travel-led from the interiors of land locked hilly regions, to job available city regions, far away to earn a living. The sums earned varied from handsome to paltry. The reasons to work also differed. 

Some to find their peace, others to be away from home, some to escape mental torture, some to contribute to the family kitty, some to be away from drunkard husbands, some to shirk work at home, some to have a nice time, still some to escape the wily mother-in-law when husband went to work. Some because of transfers as this was a preferred mode of travel. Some to escape the always wanting-sex husband who did not want to work or the roving eyes of the father-in-law or brother-in-law. The list goes on without repetition of reasons, more than you can imagine.

 All these women with very little privileges in life converged into bogies specially meant for them even if it meant being packed like sardines. They avoided the general for fear of being groped, brushed and leered at. Also, to save them from unwelcome comments. Not that these leering men did not have women at home to satisfy their carnal desires. But why waste a chance as variety is the spice of life.

The women in particular were the ones who took the brunt of all the work, though puny in size but willpower as infinite as the vast desert lands, to keep their lives going and preserve their dignity.They were not vying with any one but just doing their bit to ensure their progeny did not have to slog it off like them. They were headlong into making a better brighter days ahead for them. They had nothing to fall back upon other than the wages of their labour received every month .No insurance,no social security for their old age, just believed and had faith in God and moved forward.

These women got up as early as three or four, cooked, cleaned, washed for the day, packed lunchboxes, kissed their children goodbye to catch the first bus at five to reach the railway station  by six , run a marathon from the nearest bus stop ,climbing the over bridge or crossing the tracks on the sly ,to plonk themselves on the  bug infested  wooden benches of the local train which left sharply to reach destination in the next two hours which faithfully spilled to an extra hour and half .

Because of athithi devo bhava attitude instilled to wait patiently for all the express trains entering  to pass by.As these were long distance trains from the remaining parts of India. It also added up to the fact  that  those passengers had  paid heftily  for the comforts  on wheel rails whereas the local passengers were just the country cousins.

 Do not for a moment think that these women were spineless, hapless individuals. They were hardworking individuals contributing to GDP and NI keeping together families in their own way. No filthy rich backgrounds nor cash rich husbands for them to think of divorce at the drop of a hat. It is these women who contribute in raising children who reach bigger heights with good jobs and pay packets.Of course there is always an exception of children who milked the parents dry,but were few and far .They are the unsung , unnoticed people who contribute to our society to make it a better place. They lead  below mediocre average lives and are proud women. 

The 6.10 train morning or evening lugged all without any discrimination and whistled along gaining speed and halting when required at the sight of the flag  green and red or the sound of a shrill whistle.

Many a tale of joy and sorrow emerged.Some became wise on hearing, others on seeing while others joined in animated discussions and few others were passive , mute spectators. Each day had the unfolding of a new story to tell and hear, with the actors changing or remaining the same making the journey a memorable one.

A True Reflection-Post Production

 A mail from daughter to mother.(an extract)

"The year that could mark the starting of the troubles I have been giving you.The first that I will be spending away from you. And there are a few things I would like to say.

From here on, I don't know how my life is going to pan out but I know that I will be fine. I know that because whenever I have been hit with circumstances, the decision making ability in me has been hardwired to function rationally. Sure, there have been some emotional flops here and there but everyone has them. In my case a little more pronounced than the others. 

The reason why even in times of extreme crisis I can manage to respect, be morally grounded, be just and not be dominating is because I have been taught to be larger than just my  existence by someone who saw me through the years and embedded in me the grains of lessons, for surviving life so deep, that its a part of my system now. 

Maybe they were intentionally instilled, maybe it just passed on to me as a reflection of you. Maybe its just the genes. But all maybes end with it being sourced from you. 

Everyone has ups and downs. You have had enough and more of yours. Our family as individuals and as a unit has had aplenty. But that's the same story for everyone. We all have worries. Its perhaps the only thing constant in life. Let me tell you why these ups and downs don't worry me anymore.

 Let me take you back to a time when I was broken beyond a point where I thought I can ever be fixed. I was a wreck. I remember someone holding me with tears brimming in her eyes and telling me "I'm solidly behind you.' You have always been. Through ups and downs both. Through the ups you never stepped up to claim the credit of being with me, but through the lows, you made sure you were there for me. Through the ups you were an invisible hand, letting me take all the glory of little victories.

 Like  when you stood and clapped so gleefully as I won races and got that award. Everyone thought that it was all me. I would like to believe that it was all me who did it but that would be lying. I remember having stood in front of you and practiced my debate speech a million times before I went on stage. Those little victories had me in it of course, but, the resilience to spring back and never stay down comes from you. 

Next time anyone tells you that your upbringing has been wrong or you tell yourself that. I want you to read this and or tell yourself that no matter what choices your kids have made in life that has led to their growth or downfall, you've taught them well how to spring back to life.

And that humans are bound to make mistakes, but instead of just telling us to be careful about our choices and foresee the repercussions of it, you've made sure that when we falter we come back up as better people. 

Sure, choices and their repercussions hurt. 

I hope you can let them go for us.

I hope for my sake that you let them go because I have learnt my lessons late in life and I don't want to waste a single more second of my life making the same mistakes I made before. Nor do I want to make fresh ones.

I hope, that this new year, for the last time, you make one massive sacrifice for me and let the past go. Because I can't see a tear in your eye or handle your shaky voice when these things get to you. Because I don't want another moment in our lives to go in suffering. We've suffered enough.

 I hope that I can give you more prominent reasons to be happy for rest of our lives and as I strive towards it, I hope you can have faith and make do with the efforts that you can see me make. 

I hope that this year, the world changes around for you. I hope your stars realign. Because its unfair to see you take the brunt of things when you've given us so much more than the world can calculate or fathom......"

Changing times

As time goes by a lot of changes happen. Nothing remains the same as before. The anger fades, the revenge vanishes, and the hatred subsides. All happens because of the sea of change within. What was seen earlier is seen with the same pair of eyes but differently. What appeared ugly earlier appeared beautiful now. The face in the mirror though same except with aging lines, now has an inner beauty.

Many of us do not know we need to ask to get something. Being modest by not asking has deprived us of many things in life. When you did ask it rained and poured. Otherwise how can I explain my house, my children studying well, my site? I thank my husband wholeheartedly. Once upon a time I was angry because of all the hardships faced. Today, when I look back I have changed as a person, I have evolved as a person, have become more loving, understanding, tolerant, and have more gratitude.

Would I have had all this if I had to go about it alone? Would I have been able to send the children to good colleges,would the children have had the choice of what they wanted to study, would they have had a fairly good life,would they be able to travel, meet people and get the exposure that they are getting??

I am deeply humbled and thank God for everything I have been blessed with and for all the things I have learnt on the way. I definitely would never exchange it for anything else.

Now, I have realized that I have always been a good human being with all my shortcomings. I am grateful for all the blessings from Almighty on countless occasions .The power of time, power of distance, power over natural resources are all in His Hands. I am glad to be whoever I was, am and will be.   

Let us always do right things to have His Grace always with us and acknowledge him in everything we do, say or hear to lift our spirits in both joy and sorrow.

The Lone Bike Rider

Long, long ago,in the land of latex and lakes, with hilly terrain, with gender difference to the maximum it was only the sterner sex who perched on the drivers seat.The long winding narrow roads going up and coming down had a serpentine look. The vehicles flashed by at breakneck speed whether it was the Fast passenger of KSRTC with limited stops or the local Lovely, Daisy, Unnikrishnan and others or, the bikes with mundu or lungi riders or, the few high end cars or jeeps driven by good looking, well- groomed, young or old men from respectable khandans or others, with starch stiff clothes which made looking sideways or backwards an effort without a total sideways body movement .

The few houses in large tracts of red colored soil dotted with rubber trees, cocoa, mango, jack-fruit, coconut trees with black pepper vines winding round them was a visual treat. The density of houses by roadside increased only as you neared the town. 

The narrow road was always the monopoly of the gentlemen, as the fairer sex only belonged to  Mills and Boons tales and were not conditioned to drive on these roads. Now this was a myth soon to be rewritten by the young ladies of 2YK who went out to study and came back with good driving skills to traverse on roads of any kind and on different types of vehicles to save on time and to get rid of the dependency to be chaperoned.

It must have been early eighties when a city bred girl made inroads into a rural household bordering on the limits of town and village thought it was time saving to continue her riding skills of the metropolitan city. The walk up and down on the hilly terrain to reach the bus stop left her huffed and puffed only to miss the bus which left a minute ago. No short cut or any other way.Maybe holding bag and sari knee length to cross the fields which would land you in water with any false move which was any day ruled out.

Now, riding a Bajaj Chetak and zipping through was neither a welcome sight nor welcomed at all. It meant tearing through male bastions. As she went by, some hooted and whistled which gradually stopped. The buses deliberately pushed her to the side of the road with no riding space, but she continued never afraid .She never violated rules at all.She serviced her vehicle regularly and always ensured breaks were in good condition. Gradually she became a face on the road riding as any other.

She remembered one day when the road was empty, as she was riding she heard the sound of a Bullet behind with its typical noise with high rear view mirrors and an elderly Kottayam Kunjachan  in nice silk jubba and white mundu with the trade mark sun glasses, a thick chain, honking endlessly behind.He appeared old enough to be her father.

There was no traffic front or behind with space as wide as a bus width to overtake. But he chose not to and took endless pleasure honking behind, the regular MCP that he was. The entire 4 km stretch ,he rode behind, honking till  the city limits when he overtook and went his way.Some real pleasure he experienced because the girl continued without any hurry maintaining the same speed, unperturbed without looking behind.

The day was not far off, when there was an encounter face to face. Both were familiar faces as in those days wearing helmets was a rarity.There was no place to hide and the glasses did not help to mask the shameful face as he squirmed to extend a cheque for encashment . It was fun to see  him

wanting the earth to cave in and hide as he made a hasty exit.

Bananas

It was for breakfast one day, tunnel cake was made. A savoury made with rice powder and coconut and steamed. It can be had with a variety of side dishes sweet or otherwise. Bananas also complement it.

So one such day , a little girl was sent to buy bananas. While giving money very clear instructions were given. If it is not ripe do not buy as we can’t eat it raw. If it is very ripe just buy a little as it would become bad later. If it is okay buy . Money was given. She happily trotted out heard or not heard till she came back home with overripe bananas for a full twenty five rupees.

The mother went bananas for being duped as a child and made her eat them all  to remember for life that ,“No one should dupe you and whatever you buy it should be value for money”

But years later when she recounted it very vividly, it appeared that the moral was lost, only the punishment remembered.

It was then the mother remembered there could have been another way of instilling a value. It is alright this time but next time think properly before doing anything and be aware of people who will cheat you. Perhaps this would have been a better alternative.

Time lost can’t be reset nor memories erased. Though time is a great healer, mothers are meant to be perfect people in little minds, till girls grow up.

Today the mother is going bananas with laughter over the bananas episode.

The Home Beside a River

Many years ago, there lived a small family near a river. The river helped all those living near it mainly for bathing and washing clothes. When rains came, or when the there was a minor earthquake in the far, far away hills which would be more than half a day’s journey by bus, the river would be in spate. The water would be muddy yellow at first and then clear water carrying a lot of things like logs of wood, utensils, good edible fish, little tortoises etc. Otherwise the river was peaceful and had a tranquilizing effect for anyone sitting on its bank.

All most all the houses on the river bank used to get a good variety of fish for lunch and dinner, during monsoon times. The local boys would cut down banana stems tie them together to make a plank and with makeshift oars used to throw nets in the river to get a good catch of fish. Small children, young ,old  as well as pets all were given a joy ride like we see in amusement parks.Everyone was generally happy.

Sometimes the river would encroach the neighboring houses almost drowning even the six foot gates. At this time children learnt swimming as the water was good and there was no fear of drowning. Ropes used to be tied across the waist and held by some elders on the land or the husk of coconut tied together would be  used as a float, or old tyre tubes would find its way .Young and old all enjoyed themselves as if in a swimming pool with clear water and no fees to be paid. There were times when the whole area flooded with roads and fields submerged under water with all people staying inside.

Krithi never knew how to swim but ensured her children learnt it either at the local swimming pool or at the river. She would dip her kids headlong into water to remove their fears till they splashed their hands and legs with gulping  some water in the process.

The days when the municipal water played truant or the motor went bad for pumping water, she would go early morning at the crack of dawn, when no one was around to take a bath and wash the clothes before leaving for office. It was very refreshing. She never ventured into the water but went till the last step of the Kuli Kadavu or bathing area. The children would also take a dip before and after school. 

They enjoyed themselves, catching the small guppy fish in the towel or the small guppy nibbling at their legs while in water.The rains ceased, the river receded, the children were waiting for the monsoons and floods once again to revive memories and enjoy themselves.