Boarding the local train during peak hours is the most painful part of commuting in Mumbai. I always hated the rush. You dont need any driving force to get into compartment. Its always effortless. Painfully effortless. A swarm of organized group of people, completely unknown to each other, pushing one another, making way into the 2nd class compartment because we all cannot afford first class ticket. It is always painful to travel in 2nd class. Stinking aroma of sweat because Deodorant is too mainstream, three pair of feet crushing you while trying to adjust their feet pushing yours aside. If, god forbids, a girl boarded in compartment, instead of the one reserved for ladies, her pencil-hill will bore deep through your foot while she is feeling uncomfortable among men staring her.Its painful, as if you are being punished for some unforgivable sin. You hate it just like everyone else in the compartment, or in the train, or any other such trains for that matter, does. But then there is this young man who is always smiling while boarding the train, as if the rush is a reward, an act of pleasure. He is always smiling as if mocking the pain of the co-travellers, as if he enjoy the crowd. I hated him too. Just like I hated the rush, or traveling. I hated him for not feeling the pain I am enduring. I hated to see him smiling when I cover my nostrils to avoid stinking people. I hated him for looking at the faces of different people when I try to avoid these faces by staring at my phone screen refreshing the browser knowing that no notification will be there. I hated him for enjoying the pain. I hated him for everything he does. Or maybe I envy him too much, I am not sure. How can a person enjoy such dreadful condition? How? I want to know. I need to know. I decided to ask him anyway. --- Why are you always smiling? I asked him directly while deboarding the train at Andheri Railway station. Excuse me? He gave a dirty look. I mean, I am observing you for like 2 months and you always smile when you board the train while every one seems suffering. How can you manage to do that? I tried to explain my question. Smiling is good. Isnt it? He said. Now if youll excuse me, I have to go to my work. Sahab will yell at me if Id get late there. Where do you work? What you do? I asked desperately. At a complex in Lokhandwala. I am a sweeper there. But why are you asking? He asked as he looked confuse. Listen, I need to know why you behave irrationally in train? Not that its wrong or anything personal, I am just curious to know. Its nothing important. I just enjoy it. Now I am getting late. See you later. Listen, we can go by Auto rickshaw while we talk. I work in Lokhandwala itself. Dont worry, Ill pay for the Auto. --- So, tell me why you always smile when we all cry, literally. I want to know, seriously. Alright, sir. Ill tell you if you insist so much. He said. Look ahead buddy, and drive. I almost screamed at Auto driver who was puzzled at me talking to a person wrapped in relatively dirty clothes. He shrugged his shoulder and started staring at the blinking digital numbers in red LEDs at the traffic signal. I belongs to a remote village in Uttar Pradesh and moved to Mumbai 3 years back in search of job and a better life. Back in my village, we are shunned from the society and forced to live in a place near the pond where they dump their domestic wastes. We are not allowed to enter in to the village. We are untouchables. We are, as they say, a curse on society. I have been told that we are born in this caste because we must have committed some unforgivable sin in our last birth and this is the Gods way of punishing us. I never understand why we are not allowed to drink clean water from village handpump? Or even from the abandoned well? Why they do not let us enter in the temple? Why we were not allowed to go into the school? Why such discrimination when we all are similar, as a human, apart from the fact that we are being punished for our sin? But why god has to be that cruel? There was no answer. There was no one to answer. Instead, I have been told that I have to accept it as my karma. I did. He blurted out as he took a long, deep breath and looked at me to see my reaction. I am still not getting my answer. I was looking at him, my eyes were screaming in silence yelling cut the crap, you fool. I want to know what I asked for. He read it. It doesnt need basic education to read such looks. He looked astonished that I didnt cared anything about his caste. It was the most he can expect from any person, provided what he has suffered. He continued : It was three years back when my neighbor returned from Mumbai, told me that he dont get such treatment back there. He earn decent money and even having a TV in his room. It struck a chord in my mind. I decided to go to Mumbai. Anything will be better than this life. And if he is not exaggerating, I can also have a TV. No one in our clan has saw a TV. Most of them dont even know what TV is. TV is my driving force. I went to Mumbai. It was different. Very different. Good different. Initially, I used to avoid touching people. I was fearing to be beaten up if they will find out about my caste, like they beat us in our village. But people here never cared about me. They never asked me for my caste. With passing time, I got a cleaning job in a big shop, paying me good. I even have a room in a chawl. A good one. Cleaner than what I expected. No one avoid touching me. I like it when people push me in to the train. They dont try to keep away from me. I know some people dont like me for my old, torn clothes. But thats okay. I can change the clothes someday, when Id earn enough. Its easy to change a pair of clothes but very tough to change the mindset of the people in my village. I am not a untouchable any more. I am happy. Thats why I always smile. I was speechless. I didnt know how to react. It was a different feeling. I cannot define the kind of feeling but I have surely never felt it before. Thanks to the Auto-walla who saved me from situation by announcing that we have reached Lokhandwala. I paid him the fare as meter reads. Here. It is where I work. He pointed at a huge TV showroom. He was grinning. Happy as usual. I smiled. And I have bought a TV like this. Not this big, but same, only smaller. He signalled to a 28 inch LCD TV playing behind the display glass. I smiled again and waved goodbye as I saw him entering the shop. I dont hate him anymore. Not because of sympathy but because I know his reasons are genuine. He dont mock us. He never mocked us. I am happy that the city has given a moment of joy to a person, even unintentionally. I am happy that I found a brighter side of the city. We dont discriminate. We dont have time for that. We are humans. I am happy that a person is feeling independent in a suffocating crowd who was earlier shackled under the stretched, never-ending sky. It makes me even happier that I am a part of this happiness. I have a reason to smile. I will not crib about the rush. I am happy. Indeed. ------- Unintentionally inspired by an award winning movie In this city.
Posted on: Sat, 28 Jun 2014 09:36:07 +0000
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