An Evening in a Waiting Room

I am an annual traveller; we have heard several times- travelling is the best way for one to learn the various cultures of this planet, thus each year we pack our bags to be proved exactly the opposite. Every year, at least I have observed that though our looks may differ yet somehow we are all similarly crack-headed. Our lives are equally based on humour and tragedy which balances our lives justifiably. If observed minutely, the fun and folly of a day can make our lives joyous even in our hardships. One such hilarious occasion happened to me in a waiting room of a railway station. 

Most people who know India, are aware how crowded our railway stations can get and we the citizens know how to make our way through these crowds. Though more than often, it is hard for one to acquire a proper seat in the waiting rooms and one has to stand or if interested can roam about till their train has arrived, somehow we have grown used to the fact— waiting rooms are more of a standing room.

I generally travel with my whole family and we are a bit cautious about the trains arrival so to not miss the train we prefer to reach the station early. Now how early one wishes to reach is directly proportional to the fact how apprehensive one is of missing the train and we are quite the apprehensive lot I can assure you of that.

Thus arriving at the station 7 hours before the scheduled hours, which was supposed to depart at 12 am, we took our luggage and entered the ghastly station, which though well lit, yet hardly had any human presence, which was awkward to me first as I had never seen such an empty station before, except in the movies, of course. The weather was a bit chilly, thus I suggested staying in the waiting room, but taking advice from a girl being an unmanly act even in this twenty-first century, my elder cousin suggested waiting outside. 

It was 5:30 pm, the sun was setting behind the hills, and to sit in that temperature would only make seven icicles board the compartment when the train arrived. So being the stubborn-headed person that I am, I set off towards the waiting room dragging my mother, saying "It is the best way," keeping everyone behind (even the luggage). Finding an empty waiting room, I took the seat (or rather a wooden bed), beside the entrance door and as it was warm and cozy I said to my mother, like a regular army, "I'll go and call father, you keep the place."

The station was still empty, thus I presumed it was not that a hard thing to do and I went out in the cold, leaving mother stationed at our occupied post, to bring father and the luggage. I knew that Uncle and his family would rather freeze to death than to listen to my opinion, so I didn't even bother this time and took all our luggage and settled in the waiting room. 

By the time I reached the waiting room several families had taken the seats and the then empty room was magically filled with people though the station remained empty as before. Some people even settled on the floor by spreading blankets. It was hard to distinguish whether it was a waiting room in a railway station or a picnic spot. 

With the warmth and coziness in the not so silent waiting room, we happily sat on our little corner filled with our bags and baggage. But just as all good things must end at once, one boisterous woman with a little girl and an even more little boy and her mime of a husband arrived at our little corner. 

With a pleading look her husband pointed at the slightly empty space that was left after I and my mother sat (both being on the "healthy" side of the fitness regime). My mother in her usual commanding tone said "There are more people who are coming." It was the truth, as father went out walking in the cold weather, for he being among the fitter ones, likes to take walks in spite of the weather. 

After boldly fighting for our little space, we were left defeated and our slight territory was captured by the enemy and then two little shrines of victory were placed on the seat. Soon one of those shrines gladly rested on one of my legs keeping it warm, and I made the most of my defeat.

Then the mother got busy reciting the list of menu available at the railway restaurant to her little shrines but seeing their reluctance to eat, she fed them with water and cake anyhow.

After the water feeding was done, the mother and father were about to leave to have their dinner when the boy started murmuring in a sob tone "I wanna go with you."

"What? What are you saying?" said the victorious mother, who was not going to easily hand over the recently won territory. 

The little boy, this time with a helpless plea said "Please Mamma, I wanna go with you."

"No! You are going to stay. I'll be back in a moment," turning to her daughter, she said, "Make sure he doesn't move and keep a watch on the luggage."

The little boy, regardless of her mother's order and his little jailor's strict watch, (and forgetting his only job of keeping my feet warm), walked out and after two seconds, so did his sister, leaving their luggage to be looked after by their defeated opposition.

After their dinner was completed the family arrived and my father announced the arrival of the train. We took our luggage but I clearly saw a slight smirk on the Commander's and the two shrines face, as if telling "Now this whole territory belongs to us. Ha! Ha!"

Our train had arrived by then and thus we left our occupied post in the hands of the enemy.