Dacoits All
Ten days in
Jammu had really flown and we were going back home, my sister and I .
There was a
retired naval officer and a BSF officer occupying the seats in front of us and
on the berth near the window sat a young pleasant looking boy whatsapping, and
on the upper berth sat a pretty girl oblivious to everything around.
Suddenly
three men materialised on the scene armed with nothing but smiles. They
accommodated themselves next to the young boy, and one of them , stockily built
and older than the other two pulled up his feet on the berth, reclining his
back against the partition dividing his berth from the next, and hid his smiling
face behind the curtain.
“We are
policemen investigating the robbery in the Shatabdi express on 5 April.” The
tall, pleasant looking man said, answering our inquisitive glances. The boy
stopped whatsapping, and the girl playing temple run on the upper berth stopped
playing and leaned down to get a clearer picture of what was up.
“In
plainclothes?”
“Yes”. The stocky
man peeped from behind the curtain and smiled in our direction.
“But why are
you investigating the robbery in the Shattabdi express in the Pooja express? “
My query was
met with the broadest smile I had ever witnessed.
From behind
the curtain.
“All the
trains are under surveillance.”Said the small man with the small smile.
‘For us
everyone is a suspect”. Seconded the big man with the big smile.
The man with
the broadest smile was now again hidden behind the curtain. Probably gorging on
one more Tiger biscuit.
“Even the
two of us?”
“No, no, not
the two of you,” and saying this eyes riveted meaningfully in the direction of
the other compartment.
“There is a
lot of drug addiction amongst the youth,” the one with the big smile said,
through clenched lips, his smile temporarily in abeyance, and his eyes fixed on
the young boy whatsapping.
“It is the
drug addicts, and boys from well to do families who are involved in these
robberies.” His eyes were boring holes in the boy, who would steal sheepish glances
in our direction every now and then.
“We know a
criminal when we see one,” he said nodding his head knowingly, his eyes reduced
to chinks as they surveyed the youth. I
watched from the tail of my eye as the man hiding behind the curtain polished
off one entire packet of Tiger biscuits.
The two
plainclothesmen smiled expansively, perhaps trying to smile away the rebuff of not
being offered a single biscuit.
“He is our
boss,” the man with the broadest smile said, pointing towards the curtain.
”The one who
is polishing off biscuits without offering you a single one?”I gobbled up this
query before it could jump out of my mouth.
Why was he
smiling gratefully in my direction? Perhaps he had intuitively known that I had
very considerately refrained from asking an offensive question.
Ah, that
explained his biscuit eating spree.
Only a boss
could eat biscuits without offering them to his subordinates, I surmised and he
smiled.
From a chink
in the curtain.
You can
smile and smile and yet be a villain. What if he really was a villain-a smiling
villain?
In every
person sitting there, they were seeing a villain, a dacoit, a robber. Were we
also suspects? I did catch them looking at us furtively.
The train
had stopped somewhere.
“It is Ambala cantt,” the man with the
broadest smile said, reading the question on my lips. He had this remarkable
knack of reading lips even from chinks in the curtain, and even commenting with
the mouth stuffed.
With Tiger
biscuits.
What if he suddenly metamorphosed into a tiger
and gobbled us, like he was gobbling up the biscuits? I did not air my
misgivings, but sat quietly. An island in a storm tossed ocean.
“The dacoits
can hit anywhere”, he said, running a tongue over his lips.
Suddenly we
were hit!
By a human
avalanche-men, women, and an entourage of servants, an assorted variety of
bags, baggage, suitcases, bags of rice, packets of almonds and walnuts! They
elbowed and nudged us into nothingness. The officers sitting opposite us
hastily descended the train, maybe pre-empting what we were in for and not
wanting to be part of the impending calamity.
“This is not
done, these are our berths, and there are only four berths here.”I tried to
make our presence felt which was on the brink of extinction.
“Only for
the time being.” That patriarch of the family said with an arrogant toss of his
head, and slumped down on the berth.
For the time
being, they pulled out their dinner packets-purees, aloo bhaji, and rice,
pickle. We exchanged helpless looks.
“We have
talked to the T. T.He will allot us seats.” The matriarch said, standing akimbo
and glaring at me.
With
indecent haste they quickly made themselves comfortable on the berths vacated
by the decent officers, nudging, elbowing, pushing and shoving, and beaming
with triumphant joy at the unexpected success of their territorial aggression.
And then they attacked the food, the oldest
and the most belligerent looking male of the joint family, burping to his heart’s
content. But his heart refused to be contented, so he burped some more.
They talked
loudly, burped loudly and then before we could object, the belligerent looking male
stretched himself on the berth and started snoring loudly. Tired but satiated.
When would the T.T allot them seats, I wondered,
closing my ears to the snores, and opening my mind’s eye to the beautiful locales
we had left back home.
Positive
imaging, positive imaging, my head whispered and my heart obeyed. Ignoring the
raucous snores, I heard the sloughing of the Pine trees; I saw not the bald
pate of the folically challenged man but the sun beams reflecting off the bald
mountain tops.
The man
behind the curtain pulled out another packet of Tiger biscuits, and started his
biscuit munching spree.
The needle
of suspicion in my mind had suddenly become hyperactive. It kept pointing towards
the plainclothesmen.
What if they
are the robbers? How do we know they are really cops?
After every
few minutes, the Tiger man would peep from behind the curtain, smile in my
direction, and then nip the smile by stuffing a Tiger biscuit into his mouth.
Was he the brand ambassador for Tiger biscuits, this man in plainclothes?
A tiny boy from the next compartment belted out the
popular number GANDI BAAT, and the Tiger man, as if stung, gobbled up the
biscuit, along with his Adam’s apple and then quickly pulled back his biscuit
stuffed mouth behind the curtain, and was lost to the world!
Suddenly
appeared a man on the scene, his face a craggy pile of displeasure.
“Yes?” he
mouthed flicking his fingers in the direction of the noisy family, and almost
immediately the compartment was filled with garlic fumes, his head covered by a
halo of smoke. What if he suffered a spontaneous combustion? I almost found
myself hoping.
He crushed his cigarette brutally under a
heavy shoe and now followed an exchange of glances openly and some more
exchange not so openly. No, he did not suffer a spontaneous combustion, but he
turned on his heels and left, the patriarch in tow.
Bargain
struck, the patriarch returned.
Now, the
raucous family settled more comfortably on the seats, and when dinner time
came, the matriarch doled out food packets to her hungry minions with the air
of an empress distributing largesse.
Morning came.
In the dim morning light, it was plain that the plainclothesmen had disappeared,
probably to search for dacoits in some other compartment. But I had my dacoits,
but ah, I missed the Tiger man.
I looked
through the window; the sun was only a seam of fire in the Eastern sky.
But the
family was all fire and brimstone, and more belches.
And yes
tooth brushes too. Brand new ones.
And they
tried their very best to brush away our existence. I jumped down from the upper
berth like an alien not wanting to be noticed and hurried towards the washroom.
But then stood rooted to the spot!
In the other
compartment , an angelic looking four year old boy who
was sitting in her ten year old sister’ s lap, nervously probing the insides of
his mouth with a small thumb ,his brown hair all crazy angled cowlicks gave me such a broad smile which seemed to
banish all the negativities from the compartment !
The dacoits
who had robbed us of our food, of our sleep, of our patience were still there,
but with that sweet smile of his he had restored everything back.
I Iooked at
the girl as she tickled the back of his neck with her chin and he squirmed, and
she smiled.
And I smiled
too at this restoration. Home was just a few hours away.
An interesting anecdote, a third I'm reading this week on a difficult train journey. Train journeys (even 1st and 2nd class) are becoming difficult nowadays. 'Folically Challenged' - hilarious :D.
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