Indian stations. A microcosm of India. A microcosm of the universe.
Relationships. Strangers flowing into each others lives with ease, and moving on with ease.
A steaming hot afternoon. All sitting under the high tin roof, on the chairs lined up. A two hour wait. And yet not unbearable. With life alive all around.
Two twins in the seat ahead , both with tiny ponytails. And two parents. The two toddlers constantly running in opposite directions. And the parents too. Captivating everyone s attention. Helping all forget the physical limitations of comfort.
A posse of young men, army chaps, maybe en route the border. Sprawled on the floor, with the ease of being completely at home. Anywhere. And their strategic location under the single fan, making us all wish we had the same simplicity of thought and being. To settle on the floor as if it were a feather mattress.
A Marwari family seated on the floor and finishing a Marwari meal of many snacks. Mouth watering.
A couple on the chairs near ours opening their box of idlis. A small toddler in the next seat peering with interest into their box, and winking at them. And gleefully accepting the offered bite. The couple were delighted. And fished out a plastic dabba, placed two idlis in them and a dollop of chutney. And gave it to the yound parents. Insisting they take them. For the child. Insisting they had too many idlis.
A old lady behind us. Tapped our daughter. Gave her money to get her a cup of tea from the counter.
A huge screen, with ads of some malasa playing. With delicious delicacies popping up on screen.
A simple India. On the ground. And two hours get beguiled away.
And as the train rolls in, we say our farewells to new found friends and move on. As in life.Railway Stations
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