Please Adjust
The train🚆 stopped with a jolt just enough to wake me from a beautiful dream. I scanned the compartment from the upper berth. The sun was out for an hour, may be. I asked uncle ji on lower berth for the name of the station. He shrugged. Well, that meant only one thing, another signal crossing. So, we had stopped yet again in the middle of nowhere. This time surrounded by fallow fields, a couple of oxen🐄 and a man taking a shit in the far end of the landscape.
A couple of hawkers sent out the first calls for chai🍵 and that was enough to get me down from my abode. The uncle on lower berth welcomed me with a sheepish smile. Partly, because he was sipping his tea vigorously enough to wake up the whole compartment. But, mostly because aunty ji was still occupying half the seat, refusing to wake up. “Please adjust”, he said. I returned the sheepish smile, not amused.
By the time I bought my cup of chai, uncle had finished his tea and yeeted the plastic cup out of the window. The thin padding of the sleepers don’t make a comfortable seat, especially when you are sitting at the edges. I made some quick butt-shifting to express my displeasure 😦. Uncle didn’t care to notice. Giving up, I lost myself in a train of thoughts. With the train now moving, the pleasant morning winds flowing through the airy compartment slowly eased my mood.
Meanwhile, uncle ji had opened the morning edition of Times of India and was reading the match report. I had a peek. England had piled on a massive total in a must win match for us. We were losing a test series at home! I let out a sigh of frustration. “Yeah, our bowlers are bad. We need to bring in fast bowlers like Mohammed Shami. Also change Dhoni as captain”, he said. That, was enough to get us chatting. We discussed strategies. He asked me about my background. I asked about his family. Only histories and positives were exchanged. And, most importantly we agreed on the strategies that will make Indian cricket great again.
Our little discussion was enough to wake up aunty ji who had had enough of the chatter. I went back to gazing outside the window. The fields were still there and thankfully no human was taking a shit now. Hawkers with idli-bada, bread and cutlet and more chai went by. I bought some bread🍞 and cutlet even though uncle was kind enough to offer me his home packed breakkie.
Few hours later, uncle and aunty ji got down in the middle of dusty town with a smattering of old homes and more fallow fields. I watched this man walk away as I bought another cup of chai from the hawker outside my window. Shami made his debut for India a year later.
Was it so easy to agree back then? What changed? When did it change?
Conversations have been mostly online in this never ending ennui. Slow form and ponderous conversations are left to podcasts and drunken nights. And, online conversations are like screaming in vacuum. The context is usually lost, the things body language can convey are left to emojis and the ability to correct oneself is lost in the blood rush to establish dominance.
In the train that day, I formed a brief bond and even agreed on most things with a total stranger. I believe this innate quality to bring life to conversations still probably exists in its essence. And no doubt, I am looking forward to it.
To a day, when 5 people can jam into one sleeper berth and no one would complain for the lack of real estate. To a day, when I can discuss strategies around Nagarkoti and Kohli😉 where I wont be the uncle👴.
