Tales from the General Compartment

So it happened. I no longer retain my general compartment virginity. Didn't plan for it to end up this way, but nevertheless one can't control such things. I blame my impulsive decision making for my current predicament. However, I won't deny that I thoroughly enjoyed it.

My primary assumption was that the ride at worst would be something like a Bombay local. I was way off the mark. Nowhere close to it. Here's why :

1. average travel time in a Bombay local is 25 mins
2. People don't need to pee in a bombay local
3. People don't use your leg as a pillow in a bombay local
4. You don't have to try to sleep while standing in a bombay local

I even had the honor of climbing up on the luggage racks and sitting there with my head bent down in deference to the cramped quarters. The rather smelly semi-hindi speaking guy who was kind enough to grant me this opportunity did this for no altruistic reasons. It was a fair trade, and that's all. He needed to get down and the only way he could do this was if I clambered up like a monkey. And after a fair bit of gymnastics, the deal was sealed.

I like to leave a bit of gyaan when I conclude my blogs. So here comes this capsule of worldly wisdom. "Don't get on a general compartment. And thank god like hell for being born into a rich family"

P.S. By rich, I assume that you are rich enough to have gone to good enough schools to read and understand this blog. And ya, don't flatter yourself too much.

Bon Apetit

My good friend, Robert Pertham was rather restless. His looks defined the quintessential uneasy person. Not that he was uneasy to talk with or have at a party, he was just very restless. He was a small chubby man, with oodles of energy. In fact, I remember the day when Robert, I and some other friends had gone on a hiking trip. Towards the end of the trip, we could barely walk. Our strength was flagging. It was in these occasions that Robert would walk ahead of all of us, sing boisterously, and goad us on to the end. It was perhaps for this quality that almost everyone loved him and I hated him. He would make himself available on every occasion. It was like he was omnipresent. How he managed to do this was a mystery. His wife had left him with the kids a long time back. She said that she just couldn't stand him shuffling around any more. Poor lady, I sympathize with her. He was quite a lovable person if you could ignore his constant darting eyes. The way he bit his nails. The 'Tap tap' noise he made with his feet. In any case, he was a good man but a rather restless one.

I refer to Robert in the past tense for a reason. It is because I killed him today. It wasn't a premeditated act. It just happened. I had replayed his death in a million different ways in my head, but in that moment, I knew what had to be done. He is gone now. Gone for good. Maybe the next time you eat a beef steak, you might get to meet him. Bon Apetit.