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Saturday, October 13, 2012

The Superman in every common man


It was bright Monday morning, around 10 am. The sun had been glowing at its fullest as if deliberately tempted to kill every single creature. Summer in Delhi is a bitch, especially in mid-June. I was travelling in passenger train plying in Rewari-Delhi route.  Back when I was at Palam railway station, I just looked through everywhere for estrogen-driven co-passengers. But unfortunately there was not much girls up to my level of anticipation. There were only 3 or 4 girls which could be considered as beautiful by the low-esteemed standard I had set for girls.

It might be due to scorching summer hot or due to summer vacation that lesser number of girls was travelling in the train. Two of them, one is far above the scale of beauty, had been boarded in the same coach I had hopped in. She was so beautiful. And sexy as well, for that matter. I wanted them to sit beside me, at least one of them, preferably the hotter one. But nothing happened the way I had anticipated and they sat at a seat considerably far enough to stay away from my visible range.

The train became over-packed as soon as Patel Nagar railway station had reached. I had to offer my seat to an elderly uncle. This much over-crowded train was not to be seen every day. And the worst thing is there were no enough girls in train making the journey miserable. Beside the summer vacation our unofficial daughter-killing-scheme had paid us off. After all, how can we expect more girls in our society when we kill them either before their birth, in mother’s womb, or soon after their birth? We live in a country where we worship female goddesses and kill female children. How skewed we are….. Alas!!!

“What the hell you are doing?” A screeching female voice echoed in the coach. Around 150 pair of eyes followed the direction of origin of the voice. I looked too. It was one of the “beautiful” girls of the two of them who hopped in at Palam railway station. The beautiful girl whom I wished to sit beside me. Everyone was perplexed about her sudden screeching.

“What?” replied a guy with 5’9” body frame, in puzzled tone. His voice was giving a clear hint of his Haryanvi ascent while his rude overconfidence was confirming it.

Two other guys with same body proportion had folded their hand over their chest proving about their together some.
“You are touching my…… my body.” She complained hesitantly.  It gave a clear picture of the reason of her screaming.
. “This kind of things often happens in crowded trains, madam.” Another guy said as he stroked his stubble-claded chin.
The fume was settled and they let it go.

The train took an unanticipated halt at some “outer stoppage” somewhere between Patel Nagar and Delhi Sarai Rohilla railway station. Few passengers got panicked as they had to reach their office on time. This halt was unnecessary as well as it would have been another potential reason to their bosses to release their anger on them. The bosses too need somewhere to boost up their confidence which had been shattered after fighting with their respective wives. All of a sudden, everyone seemed to give a mouthful to Indian railways as if they had some personnel war with the world’s largest transport institution. The train didn’t seem to be moving even after 30 minutes. It had given them a hottest topic of discussion. The discussion which seemed to be never ending as everyone had an “expert” opinion against Indian Railways. They had expert opinion for every topic under the sun, for that matter.

Application of perpetual verbal slangs had only worsened the situation. They were constantly shuffling the topics under the wide umbrella of Indian railways. From train delays to accidents, from ticketing systems to tout, from pick-pocketing to snatching, from female teasing to irresponsible and corruption in railways ministry, every single person had their own expert view on almost every topic. They had discussed about almost every attribute related to Indian railways. This discussion had only added few more cuss words and slangs in my vocabulary. There also exists some slang which was way far from my understanding. My mental dictionary was oblivious about the actual meaning of those slangs. Even google.com couldn’t answer the meaning of those words. It seemed like these slangs were freshly invented or might be kept away from the world for all these years.

“You touching me again!” same voice echoed followed by a hard slap. That beautiful girl was screaming at the maximum possible volume permissible by her vocal cord. The panic in her voice along with that hard slap was enough to grab the attention of every co-passenger in the train.

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This incident is to be published in three parts. This is its first part.



PS: This is a work of fiction.

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Bhopal. Delhi. Mumbai. Thrissur, India
A grammatically challenged blogger. Typos are integral part of blogging