It was 11:40 AM on the clock as the train shrugged off to a start. My cousins and Anoop hopped off the train with quick goodbyes as they were taken by surprise by the train’s movement. So the train started bobbing just like any other train, and the walls bled silence in the last of the 3rd tier A/C seats where my mom and I had made ourselves comfortable. I am the kind who likes to talk a lot and none of my co-passengers seemed like the kind I could (or wanted to) break the ice with. A couple of oldies, as usual. I don’t know why, but I never find myself seated beside someone near my age, ever! After sitting still for a while not knowing what to do next, I finally decided to go over to the upper berth and to begin with the book my cousin had given me. ‘No God in Sight’ by Altaf Tyrewala. The book was interesting and fast paced and dove deep into human angst. I’m usually enthralled by such material. Be it in books or movies. After lunch, I got back to my book and after around 40 minutes of reading, I noticed that I’d already been through half the book. And to my disappointment I realised the book was only 171 pages long. Darn. So much for entertainment. I decided to get some shut eye so that I could save the book for later and I dozed off. At around 5 o clock, I woke up, and within another hour and a half, I was already done with my book even though I did try to read slowly. I tried to sleep again, failed at the attempt, and got down for a while. The boredom was killing me. It seemed like a game of London statue with everyone sitting still, engrossed in deep thought. When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I had dinner with mom and I wished her good night. I was off to sleep at 8.10 PM. Way too early considering my normal time of 1 AM! Now since our tickets had got confirmed out of the waiting list, we didn’t get adjacent seats. So I made my way to seat number 48, a couple of seats away from where I was all day. And to my horror I found a huge north Indian family with not one, not two but FOUR noisy, hyperactive, irritating and obnoxious BRATS!! No I don’t mean kids. I mean BRATS!! Most children I come across are brats. What ever happened to the good ol days when kids like myself used to keep quiet and put up their best behaviour in public? And at home as well? I remember spending most of my childhood on computers and video games. Call me boring if you want but I was obedient, nevertheless. This venn diagram will tell you all you need about today’s kids:
So here I was trying hard to get some sleep but noooooooo… these little monsters just can’t shut up! One was a little baby, and I don’t know how the heck he could pull out a scream that loud! Talk about unwanted decibels. And his mom was even worse. With lullabies that loud (and that horrid), its no big surprise that the kid couldn’t stop crying his brains off. I would have preferred running my nails over a blackboard any day I tell you. And the older brats? Have they learnt to behave in public? I guess not. As I was trying to shield my ears from the screeches around me with a blanket, on the side upper seat, the other brats were actually using me, to climb to the upper berths. I’ve seen myself way too many times on a mirror to know that I DO NOT look like a ladder. As if one screaming hag and its kid wasn’t enough, an old guy in the lot thought it’d be entertaining to keep the lot busy by making the kids sing! Pandora’s Box had just opened itself. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to do something about this, or risk going insane. Patience (especially with kids) isn’t exactly one of my best virtues. So I took the diplomatic route to problem solving and in the most polite way possible, I asked the elders to get a hold over their kids and to stop climbing over me. I even told/lied that I wasn’t in the best of health. And to my surprise, the family started laughing! And the reply I got after that was as welcome as Osama Bin Laden was in Bush’ Texas ranch, “Bachon hein na? Kelne do.”
This isn’t happening.
What kind of people actually allows their kids to bug others, and find it amusing as well? I’m sure they weren’t humans. They couldn’t have been. These are the kind of moments I just wish I had both the following:
a) A gun, preferably a mini-gun (a la the terminator mode) and…
b) A license to kill.
When I figured out that my wish wasn’t going to be answered, I just lay down, and rolled myself and the blanket into a cocoon and subject myself to the heartless torture that these people were inflicting on me. I felt my life force being drained inch by inch. Minutes flew by like hours. And the cybrids’ favourite words echoed through the depths of my mind…Hurt//Maim//Kill…
Brats shouldn’t be allowed in trains. There should be some test prior to boarding to figure out if a child is a brat or not. If yes, not only should he/she be charged double the normal fare, he/she should be seated in the goods carriage. No, brats don’t deserve to sit beside ‘people’. Maybe their parents ought to follow Maddox’s guide to loving their kids… (http://maddox.xmission.com/beat.html)
At around 2 AM in the morning, my tormentors left the train. I was too stricken to even celebrate. I forgot what joy was like. And it was then that I fell asleep for the 1st time since 6 hours.
I dreamt of me and a friend of mine going for archery classes (!?!).
The next morning, when I woke up, the Adam’s family was replaced with an American couple. After I freshened up and noticed that there was no room for (even) me to sit in my mom’s compartment, I took up a place opposite to the American couple. They introduced themselves as Rolfe and Genal (I hope I spelt your name right!). They were a nice couple from Colorado who were on a tour of the country. We talked about politics, did a bit of George Bush bashing, and talked about education, movies and a lot of other things. It was quite a relief considering the ordeal I had to endure the previous night. At 11:00 AM, my journey was over and I got down with my mom at Shoranur station, found my uncle soon enough, and we drove home…sweet home.