18:30 – Durgapur Station
Stepping on to the platform panting and drenched in sweat, the first thing I noticed was the crowd. It was extra strong for a Thursday. Then again, it was not your regular Thursday.
The daily passengers today were augmented by the horde of students from the neighbouring engineering colleges. They were all headed home for the extended weekend of "Kaali Pujo" and "Bhaifota". There were smiles on most faces, in anticipation of the celebrations and festivities.
I too, was one of the later; eager to get away from the dreaded dreariness of an engineering college hostel. The thought of a comfortable bed at home then was more alluring than the promise of manna from heaven.
We did not have to wait long. The announcement for the train was followed by a flurry of activity. It was a blurred cacophony. The whistle of the incoming train – sudden restlessness – the train rolling to a halt – a mad rush and scampering – the whistle again and then on our way.
It ended as suddenly as it had begun. As the train picked up speed everything quickly settled down. Fate, it seemed, was generous to me. I was elated to be by the window. It was not that I was given much to the scenes passing swiftly by in the twilight, but now that the train started picking up speed, the wind rushing in had a great soothing effect on the tired and sleep deprived mind of mine. I dozed.
19:00 – Panagarh Station
I was jolted to full consciousness as the train slowed to a halt. The train had arrived at its next stoppage. It was a repeat of the same scene over again. The cool wind had refreshed me. “Winter is on its way at last,” I thought wistfully.
Amidst the rush, I three new faces took their seats beside me. A lady with her two young daughters; clearly headed for her maternal home for the festivities. Their father had come to see them off.
The younger daughter was pestering her mother for not having a window seat. Her sister, trying to act all grown up, was trying to dissuade her.
“It’s all dark. There is nothing to see.”
“But there are so many lights in the dark. They are so beautiful.”
Amused, I invited her to come and sit by my side. Their mother looked at me suspiciously, but the kid was by my side before she could say anything.
Their mother thanked me and engaged in some small-talk. I could sense she was apprehensive and was trying to gauge if I had any ill intentions. I realized a hectic day at college and a near impossible dash to the station to catch the train had left my appearance far from convincing. Nevertheless, the terms Computer Science Engineer and National Institute of Technology do work wonders.
19:30 – Bardhaman Station
The last half an hour had made it clear that I had a new friend. And I clearly couldn’t resist getting a chocolate bar for her from the hawkers who boarded the train as it rested a while at Bardhaman. Her sister, Mampi, too got one in her honour. She took it, thanking me politely and submerged herself in her comic once again.
Their mother Mitin did not seem to mind my friendliness towards her daughters any more. Having established the safety of my intentions some time earlier, she was lost in her thoughts. Constantly fiddling with her mobile phone, she was probably awaiting a call.
And then there was Munni. She clearly was of a different mettle. She was undoubtedly the most vivacious and garrulous 8 year old. She had talked constantly and inundated me with everything I thought she could tell me and more.
From her, I got to know their names, that her sister was 12 and was the brightest student in her class, that they were headed for their Mama’s place in New Alipore, that her dress was brand new; having been bought by her father only yesterday and hundred and one other odds-and-ends she could think of.
While I was admiring this human Elixir of Happiness, she had neatly finished her chocolate and was tugging at my arm. She had more to tell me. I found myself smiling. Clearly, her happiness was infectious. I turned to her and immersed myself in her story.
20:30 – Bandel Station
The spell was broken by Mitin’s words. “Here, Mama wants to talk to you,” she said, handing the cell-phone to her daughter.
As Munni directed her attention to her Uncle and plans of chocolates, cakes and ice-creams for the next four days, I noticed that we were rolling out of Bandel. I was so mesmerised by our conversation, I hardly realised how time had flown by.
I found Munni to be not only a sweet and charming girl, but also very smart and mature beyond her years. With both parents out working, the two sisters had to house to themselves most of the time. And they ran it as well as they could.
“I love to cook, and I am good at it,” she said. “But Didi doesn’t let me. She says I put too much sugar in everything.” She confided she knew and told me with a wink, “But then I love sweet.” I couldn’t help but smile.
And then there was her sister. Munni literally hero worshipped her. If perfection could be found on Earth, it was to be found in Mampi.
“Didi comes first in class every time. I managed it only once, that too last year.”
“Didi does all the tough sums so quickly. She does her own homework and even helps me with mine.”
“Didi is a wonderful singer. She wins so many medals and trophies. She can also dance so well. She even goes to an Arts & Crafts class.”
“Whenever Reena Aunty takes leave, Didi cooks such nice snacks for me in the evening. She has taught me so many dishes as well. And she doesn’t let me do anything.”
“And Didi is not mischievous like me. She can’t climb trees or doesn’t bring pups and kittens home from the street like me.”
“So you climb trees?” I inquired.
“Mum doesn’t let me. Dad is okay. He lets me climb the guava tree in our house and get ripe guavas. He waits for me underneath the tree and I throw him the guavas.”
“Mum scolds Dad for it. She thinks I will fall,” she giggled. “I actually have a couple of times. Dad did not tell mum.”
A little angel in an idyllic family; what else is heaven, if not this?
She had finished her conversation with her uncle and directed her attention once again towards me. She was ready to speak and I was eager to listen.
21:20 – Outside Howrah Station
We were nearing the end of our journey. The train was stuck at the signal outside Howrah station, awaiting a platform allotment.
Mitin was busy getting their entire luggage in place. She asked me to awaken Munni, who had peacefully gone to sleep in my lap, exhausted. She still had the looks of a cherubic baby. But no, she was not a baby. She was as grown up as me or anyone else in the compartment; maybe even more.
What she told me had put my mind in topsy-turvy. I was awestruck with the depths of her feelings.
It all started with her mother Mitin telling her to stop bothering me with all her childish talk. I reassured her I didn’t mind and was actually enjoying it.
It was then that she asked me, “I do talk too much, isn’t it?”
“So what? Even I talk a lot,” I said. She seemed to pay no attention.
“And yet no one knows what I think, because I never tell that.” I was startled. The words seemed so out of place on that innocent face.
It all came out like a gushing fountain after that. How her father wanted a son but had her instead. How her mother always compared her with Mampi and found her wanting. How her Hero-Sister locked her up in the large apartment all alone in the evenings while she went out to her tutorials till she or one of the parents came back home. How everyone was always busy, everyone except her. How she was all alone.
Yet she kept up her brave happy front. Each sad word was hidden in praise – for her Dad, her Mum and her Didi. Each dry tear was covered with a smile.
I was awakened from my reminiscence by the familiar sights and sounds of Howrah station. The train was rolling in. I awakened Munni softly.
“Get up sweetheart, we have reached.”
She jumped up gleefully. “Great. Mama will be waiting at the platform. I bet he brought his new car.”
I too, got up, gathered my backpack and was putting it on, getting ready to disembark. I felt a by then familiar tug at my arm. Munni was asking me to bend down to her.
“Will you please hold my hand and help me get down from the train?” she spoke in an almost inaudible whisper.
21:30 – Platform 14, Howrah
She had spotted her uncle as soon as we de-boarded the train. She freed her hand from me and ran to him. I followed her with Mitin and Mampi.
Munni introduced me to her uncle as her boyfriend. All of us roared with laughter. She was holding my hand and blushing. After brief introductions, it was time to go. All of us were in a hurry to get home and I took their leave.
I was headed towards the crowded local trains which would take me home. My beautiful co-passenger was headed to the car park with her family. Munni kept turning and waving at me. She had made me promise to call her and talk to her regularly. How could I refuse her?
I was lost in thought. I don’t know what had earned me the blessing of this friendship. I don’t know what made her confide in me. But a 22 year old engineer had become the best friend of an 8 year old girl barely out of kindergarten. It was the strongest bond I had ever felt with anyone.
I don’t know if this friendship will last. I don’t know if we will keep in touch or if we won’t; let alone ever meet again. But one thing was for sure. In the span of a 3 hour journey, this little girl had revealed to me a vivid scene from this panorama we call life.
