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With my four-year old son in
one hand and a suitcase on the other I got down at Dadar Station, Bombay, now
Mumbai that day early in the morning. It was during March of 1987. I was
actually returning to Ahmedabad by Konark Expresss from Odisha. That train comes
to Bombay. From Bombay I had to take a train to Ahmedabad. I was told that from
Dadar the train would go to Victoria Terminus, which is now Chhatrapati Shivaji
Terminus. Trains going to Gujarat would start from Bombay Central. But these
trains would pass through Dadar. So if I got down at Dadar and changed the
platform to western line, that could save me a lot of trouble.
But as my luck would have it, the
trouble began the moment I touched the western line platform. I saw in front of
me the train to Ahmedabad was about to leave. Looking back I might tell that I
was foolish. But the idea of waiting at the station, God knows for how long,
with a four year old boy who had been away from his mother for the first time
and missing her for nine long days, was so dreadful that I could not forego the
train. I just ran and managed to put my suitcase near the door and firmly
caught hold of the door's window. There were people at the gate to hold the
window. So no problem.The other hand was on the door handle. My son was seated
on my lower arm holding my neck. Immediately, another person climbed behind me.
I felt safe. Now I have protection. I tried my best to make him comfortable.
All these narrations are to be counted in seconds.
In those days there were no
mobile phones, Internet or digital payments, e-wallets etc. If you do not have
enough money in your wallet you better don't venture out anywhere. The wallets
were of paramount importance for travelling. That is why whether anything is
told to you or not, a warning for the purse was invariably given by your near
and dear ones while going on travel. "Please be careful of your Purse"
were the last few word of advice by well wishers while embarking upon a
journey. Even you would find many boards in the halls, reservation areas,
on the platforms etc etc.. telling you to be careful of pickpocket.
"Beware of Pickpockets" is a board which you would find those days
more frequently than any other boards. Some photographs of people who are good
at this trade were also on display.
These ATMs, Plastic money,
ewallets etc. completely ruined their business. After these inventions also I
lost my purse quite a few times near Surat. But in the process both of us would
have been equally disappointed - he for not much money in the wallet and myself
because I had to arrange for duplicate cards. Now-a-days you don't even find a
board on pickpockets. So earlier. I used to be generally very conscious
of my purse which at other times I would move to my front pocket to avoid
enticing people for pickpocket. But that day there was no time for all
those.
My head was held tightly by my
four year old. With strangers all around, he was scared. That proportionately
increased the grip on my neck. I had no chance of turning my head to look at
the person behind me or exchange a smile. He did three things simultaneously.
One, he took out my purse. Two, he pulled my suitcase. Three, he jumped from
the train. All at the same time. What an expertise!! My reflexes worked to the
extent that I pressed my right leg to prevent the suitcase from falling.
Without turning I shouted "Mera Purse Le Gaya" (took away my purse). Though
everyone saw, no one could do a thing about it. But their seeing the
predicament was a big relief for me.
Once such a thing happens to you, some kind of sympathy wave starts flowing. Everyone sheds down some amount of that pious potion and the whole mass of sympathy sometimes becomes very overwhelming. From Gujaratis that flow is almost instantaneous. That is what happened. My son was immediately taken by a lady who fondly put him on her lap. Some people ordered refreshments. Someone even inquired if he wanted a toy. I saw my son merrily eating all the delicacies coming for him without bothering to look at his helpless father. I even saw him drinking coconut water and after that an ice-cream. People did not overlook me either. I got tea and some snacks. To appear graceful, I skipped lunch. I really cannot forget the love and affection the passengers showed to both of us. But there was another trouble waiting for me.
Along with my purse, my tickets were also lost. It was good that no one inquired about it during travel. But you cannot pass the gate of a railway station without producing it to the Ticket Collectors. On the gate at Ahmedabad Platform No.1 there were two Ticket Collectors. One of them, by perhaps his years of experience, instantly made out that I was without ticket. He signaled me to wait. After the rush of passengers, they took me to a corner and asked me to tell my story. I politely told them I worked in State Bank of India in Ahmedabad and requested them to understand my plight and not to treat the whole trouble as a story. I also promised to pay whatever fine was payable. But that would be possible only if they allowed me to go home. One of them with a pointed nose and a red necktie became serious. He looked straight into my eyes and almost as if challenging me, said okay.
The fine amount was worked out as some two hundred and fifteen rupees. I came home. Mother and son got united and I also got to see my one year old daughter after nine long days and started playing with her. But soon I declared that I have to go to the station to pay the fine. I took out my two wheeler and reached platform No.1 of Ahmedabad Station. But the ticket collector-duo were no where to be seen. After a long search I located them having some breakfast in a corner. The moment the person with the red necktie saw me he was elated. The other fellow did not appear so happy. I was told that they had a bet among them and the looser obviously was not happy. I was blushing all the while recollecting my ordeal.
The red necktie person extended his hand and said "Oh! you really came back to pay the fine? Come, join us for a cup of tea. You will have coffee or tea?".
That's it. I had a cup of coffee with them. They did not take the fine levied. That is not all. Both of them came to leave me outside the station. What a lovely day!!. All is well that ends well. I had completely overcome the pain of pickpocket and was full of energy once again.
Thank you Railways.
Such a beautiful slice of life account. Great post
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteAll is well that ends well. Jumping into a running train with a four year old child locked to the neck may be considered as misadventure by many but not to the father of the child who was thinking differently at that moment. There are many good people around everywhere to extend help and sympathy. May be we never lookout for them, unless circumstances demand. The way the experience has been written, makes good reading.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Sarat babu for your thoughtful comments.
Delete