It was early morning, its darkest hour. I boarded the train. Dark and dingy inside, for a moment it seemed bright on the outside. My coach was indeed a sea of people. People sleeping on the aisle, people you would have to step over to get ahead… occasionally stepping on a finger or two. But they couldn’t care. They were too happy to just get a place in. With much difficulty, I finally found my seat. On my berth of three there were five. I reclaimed my rightful place with no resistance at all. Afterall they were too happy to just get a place in. So they nudged some luggage and made place for themselves… right beside my feet.

And she said… travel in a sleeper coach was beautiful…

There was a family of five sitting in front of me. Husband and wife with their three kids seemed to have a rather hard life. They looked at me curiously as if I was some foreigner. Why would somebody who appeared well to do choose to travel along with them? Is that what they thought? Maybe. But don’t I breathe the same air they do? Maybe not. I really was a foreigner, someone from the better side of the world. One who could travel in atleast an AC coach.

In the next compartment, there was an old man who kept crying out loud for no reason at all. His son patiently tried to put him to sleep. But he wouldn’t stop. Then suddenly he would blabber something to himself, close his eyes and lie down on his berth. But even the next moment could tell that he will soon wake up and cry out again. The kids in my compartment watched him with amusement. Afterall, what a little world they had seen.

And she said… travel in a sleeper coach was beautiful…

The father of the kids bought two cups of tea to share with his family of five. The kids were elated to see two sips poured into each of their cups. And all that they heard from their Mom was… “Gira diya to marungi” (If you drop it, I will beat you). How could they afford to? Afterall that’s all that they had for breakfast that day. So all that they would know until they could earn for themselves was… Gira diya to marungi. Yet the family had a laugh when the youngest kid dropped his tea. But he won’t get more.

The pantry guy turned up to take orders for breakfast. I was the only one to order for some. The kids watched me eat. I couldn’t swallow one bit. I offered them a chocolate. But their father turned me down. He didn’t want his kids to have one bit from what their father didn’t earn for them. Their mother tried to divert their attention to the mountains and rivers going by. But how could he see his children craving. Finally he yielded and bought a bar of chocolate for them. I thought I made him poorer.

And she said… travel in a sleeper coach was beautiful…

A blind old lady entered the compartment. Poor and emaciated that she was, she had no other choice than to beg. The kid’s father found a coin in his pocket. But he was poor too. Yet he gave her a rupee and she blessed him. I am certain that I had ten times more money than that with him. But I didn’t move an inch. I don’t know why. And the blind old lady moved ahead to seek money from the other poor people around. I wondered why the rich from the AC coach never saw beggars like her. I realized… the poor earn money only from the other poor…

And she said… travel in a sleeper coach was beautiful...

Why couldn’t I look out of the window and watch the trees sway, the lush green fields and the hues of clay? The mountains blue and gushing rivers in view… Why couldn’t I feel the refreshing breeze brushing my face… the tranquility of the countryside? Well… how could I when there was such gloom inside…