The Chennai-Trivandrum mail was waiting impatiently, giving me no time for good byes and sobs. As soon as I jumped into the train, it was already moving. Thanks to the Railway minister’s idea of adding an extra middle berth in all the compartments that the train was really crampy and suffocating!!
My compartment had two Tamilian police officers, (who were going for an All India Police camp in Trivandrum along with their police friends in other compartments) two Malayali men in their early 30's, the TTE and a Marwadi businessman (who looked exactly like the Indian version of the laughing Buddha) The minute I kept my bag on the floor, the police men started their interrogation- "Is this your compartment?" "Do you have a ticket?" "Where to?" etc… etc Once the question answer round was over, I pushed my bag under the lower berth and waited for 9o’ clock to have my dinner and go to sleep. As soon as we reached a station, our Indian laughing Buddha got down the station to get a chips packet. It was really an interesting sight to see the way he was trying to open the chips packet just like an impatient child. Once he succeeded in opening the packet without dropping it all over him, he started relishing one chips after another with his eyes shut; which made it easier for me to stare at him! But the last thing he did before throwing away the cover was the most interesting- he plunge his thumb and point finger deep into the corners of the packet, dug out the last remaining bits of the chips and started sucking his salty spicy fingers to glory. All those women who deprive their husbands from eating potatoe chips and all those daughters who snatch oily food from their fathers hands, and were wondering how the pot belly kept growing…; This is what happens behind your back. This was exactly like the diabetic patients who sneak out to have ladoo and jilebi’s.
It was near 9 o clock by then, the police men started their dinner followed by the Marwadi business man and the two Mallu men. Slowly I also had my dinner and climbed up, folded myself into TWO as I had to fit in the upper (side) berth and went to sleep. But the tube lights near the entrance along with the one on top of my head were determined to not to let me sleep. I could do nothing about the entrance tube light so I looked down under my berth to ask the TTE if he could switch off at least the light on top of my berth. But nobody was there. The thought of climbing down, then again climbing up and folding me into TWO to fit in that berth itself was depressing. So I looked around for a passer by. Then I saw a pair of eyes looking at me and smiling. It was none other than one of the men among the two who were in my compartment. I just looked at him, and gestured "can you please switch off the light" and he ran to my rescue like a true soldier. But when I said thank you he replied, “kaiyil vecho" !! I wondered is it a new version of saying “No mention please” or “Pleasures mine”!!
It is not the first time I’m travelling in Chennai Trivandrum train... so by now I know exactly at what time each station comes. My station will only come by 10 o’clock in the morning. So what I usually do is get up by 9.30, comb my hair, fold my bed sheet, brush my teeth, wash my face, keep my things in my bag, have a cup of tea and wait for a minute... my station arrives. But our kind gentleman who turned the switch off the last night was too kind to bang his hand near my head screaming, “Wake up……………. its your station… you are going to miss it.” I looked at my watch and it was 6 in the morning and being a (proud) Indian, one thing I know for sure is that Indian railway can be 4 hours late to arrive but never 4 hours early to reach! So I covered my face with my bed sheet and went back to sleep. By sharp 9.30 I got down from my berth, where my friendly neighbors were kind enough to welcome me with their gleaming faces. I prayed to the Train Goddess, “to please reach the station in time” by seeing their smile itself. As soon as I got down they asked me "Is this the time for a Malayalee girl to get up in the morning?" For which all I could do was politely, smile. In the morning it was not the police men's turn to interrogate but it was these two gentlemen's. The interview started with, “ What are you doing?”
"I'm working as an Assistant Director in the film industry,” I replied modestly.
“O! Assistant Director in the film industry? Did you learn to fake this modesty by seeing the Super Stars?” they ask me! Before I could answer that one, the other gentleman quickly opens his bag and proudly displays a bunch of pirated Tamil CD’s to me. I looked at the police men sitting in front of me, but they were least bothered. I looked at the men and whispered “Thiruttu CD…”
But before I could even complete my sentence... they cut my sentence saying, “Thiruttu CD O! Don’t show off that you don't know Malayalam."
Which left me wondering what did I say now. Then the man turns to his friend and continues, “Thiruttu CD polum thiruttu!” Then only I realized instead of saying ‘Kalla’ (Malayalam) CD I said Thiruttu (Tamil) CD for the pirated CD’s.
“Paandy naatil poyi thani Paandy aayo?” they ask me. “Look at her nose ring… thani Paandychi” they comment.
Sitting in front of me were two Typical Malayali's who were travelling in a Chennai to
