I clambered up the steps of the AC coach, thankfully rid of
the mosquitoes at the railway platform.
Looking forward to crashing after a strenuous day’s work, I entered my
coach, and was greeted by an old gentleman occupying my berth, nicely cuddled
up under a blanket with shut eyes. I
looked around, slightly impatient at my seat being usurped. The other lower berth was occupied by another
old lady, and the middle berth by a young boy, around 25 years old, who also
took in what was happening, turned around and went back to snoozing. By this time, nursing a bad headache, I was
seething with anger. I sat down, wondering what to do when I saw the old man
look at me from the corner of his eyes, and quickly look away. In spite of myself, I was amused! The TC came by then, and I requested him to
see if I could get another lower berth as I have this insane fear of upper
berths. He promised to try, but said was
doubtful, as he was not able to accommodate the old man also.
Putting away my bag, and resigning to sleeping on the floor,
I finished my dinner, when I saw this old man preparing to get up and pick up
his small bag of water bottle and countless papers. I asked him what he wanted, and he declared: ”Am going to sleep on the upper berth”. I
burst out giggling, and he too looked amused!
I told him not to bother, we will work out something, and offered to
make his bed for him, which he insisted on doing himself.
He started talking to me about himself. He was ninety plus, had worked in the high court for over 34
years as a clerk for the then Chief Justice, and handled many a transcripts of
famous judgements. With not a tooth left in his gummy mouth, he told me how he
was coming after a temple visit, undertaken for his grandson, who was mentally
challenged. His daughter had passed
away, and the boy’s father had just disappeared, abandoning this child under
their care. Pointing to the boy
occupying the middle berth, he said he had taken care of the boy, giving
medical help and vocational training.
Though the boy was off medication now, and able to take care of his
daily living needs, he still needed supervision. His life was one long travail from one special
school to another, and from one doctor to another. Yet, there was not a speck
of frustration on his face. Someone had
told him this visit to the temple would help the boy, so ungrudgingly, they had
travelled overnight, this old couple, in the hope that divine intervention
would help them.
He chatted on, spoke with pride of the fact that he had
never entered college, yet the judges at the high court would trust his
transcripts implicitly. He reeled off
medical jurisprudence, tort laws etc., and I felt my tiredness, my irritability
and my headache all slipping away, as I listened to this octogenarian giving me
a living example of how to live life:
Head-on, with: “What cannot be cured has to be endured.” And here I was cribbing about the loss of a
lower berth!
I woke up early in the morning, and saw that they had got down
quietly at an earlier station. I wish I
had had a chance to say good bye to them…
But even now, when I am writing this, I am able to count my blessings,
and send a silent prayer to the higher universal power to safeguard such people
who teach such simple lessons to their co-passengers in this journey called
life…