Train from Platform Number 5

The city of Bombay was on its usual beat. The evening setting sun chased down the Dadar-Malad local and all the passengers were on their everyday positions. Tired and weary bodies smelt each other’s stench of sweat. It was a luxury to get even an inch of seat to rest those tired legs and Vijay was among those few lucky ones.

The sound of Mumbai local gushing past Mahim Junction was like a sweet lullaby for Vijay and the rhythm of tracks when the train passed through Bandra bridge was like a mother’s rocking, putting him to sleep. This transported him to a different world, his world of dreams.

Everyday exactly at 5.30 P.M, Vijay boarded the local train from platform number 5 of the Dadar railway station and every day after the train crossed Bandra, Vijay was in his world of dreams. When he was new to this city, it was even difficult to catch sleep at nights after a back breaking long journey. But today after fifteen years in this same train, the seats and the windows somehow knew him more than his wife.

In his initial years, this act of sleeping was a way to avoid the beggars and the eunuchs, but slowly and gradually even he did not realise when his acting turned into real. Maybe it was his addiction to his dreams that he slept so well, after all this was the only universe where he was the real hero. Here he was not afraid of anyone. He did not fear the shopkeepers and bargained well, he was not afraid of the eunuchs and bravely shooed them away. In his dreams he sometimes even reached his office an hour or so late and his boss dared to ask him the reason. He was the perfect brave man in the movie of his dreams, kicking the ass of villains and being the hero of his daughter. Sometimes it was difficult for him to realise which one was his dream and which was his real life. Both were so tightly woven that Vijay lived in both the worlds simultaneously.

The train had just crossed Versova, when Vijay was woken up and brought back from his fantasy world, with a strong pat on his back. “Oye ass hole, that’s my seat.”

Vijay was just about to trade punches on a corrupt politician when this strong Young man woke him up. “Han?” Vijay got back to his senses, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Are you getting up, or waiting for me to throw you on the tracks, you rat”, the man said in a tone, which sent chills down Vijay’s back. He parted his lips to say something, but only managed to breathe out. His shivering hands tried to find his bag from under the seat, while his eyes kept staring at the band type tattoo on the man’s massive forearm. Vijay stood up without wasting much time and the man adjusted his huge frame on to the narrow space on the seat.

Vijay stood up and held on to the overhead bar, he held it tight enough to choke an average adult to death. “Why did you get up? He is a bully.” The man standing next to Vijay whispered.

“Oh I didn’t know that, I got up because my station is next, let the poor man sit” Vijay tried to act brave, smiled and made his way through the crowded compartment towards the door. The face of the man with the tattoo on his forearm flashed before his eyes. ‘Why the hell did I get up? I was not afraid, I was just being nice’ Vijay consoled himself.

The tracks were rattling angrily, the train was hissing past Andheri like a furious serpent. Vijay closed his eyes. Standing next to the door he breathed in the city’s evening air. ‘I am brave’ his heart chanted.

‘Oh yes standing like this I seem no less than a hero out of a Bollywood film’ Vijay thought. He started to observe and absorb in all the sounds around him with his eyes closed. Outside few kids were shouting from the empty tracks, Vijay thought they were cheering for him, he smiled back. People were clapping from somewhere inside the crowded bogie, he remember his daughter’s last birthday. Someone behind him was angrily shouting over phone, Vijay felt like stuffing the same phone inside the man’s mouth, but finally forgave him. He was enjoying this exercise. This was better than sleeping, eyes closed, standing next to the door and observing all the sounds.

‘Why was the sound of clapping hands coming closer?’ Vijay thought. ‘Maybe their station was nearing…’ The claps were right behind him now. ‘….Or could it be…?’ Vijay turned back immediately.

Eunuchs, three of them. There was something in them which made his heart skip a beat whenever he saw them. “Come on give na” one of them asked while the other one pulled his cheeks. Vijay tried wriggling out of their clutches. “What happened? Station is about to come, give na” The third one now pinched Vijay on his belly, he wriggled more.

All his acts of heroism from his dreams flashed back in his mind. ‘This is the time’ Vijay thought.

Mustering all his courage he shouted back. “I don’t have, don’t you understand?” Vijay was surprised as to how he managed to say that. All the three eunuchs were stunned; they looked at him with their mouths wide open. The man angrily talking on the phone paused to see who shouted more loudly than him?

The anger in him was making Vijay’s eyes red, he was panting heavily; he wanted to shout more but kept looking at the eunuchs, clueless about what their next move might be.

Just then one of them came closer to Vijay, “Then I guess you don’t even have this?” and punched him between his legs.

For a moment everything turned into slow motion. He could not hear the rattling noise of the train anymore, as if it stopped only to see what happened. Everything seemed faded, with no sound in the background. Eunuchs were laughing now and Vijay tried to sit down next to the door, the man who was shouting on phone, offered his bottle of water to Vijay, but he just managed to say, “I am fine”.

He sat there next to the door, resting his head between his knees. His eyes were closed. He just wanted to preserve those tears for something better, at least not to lament on his cowardice. He could hear some people laugh. Some were discussing among themselves, “Is he fine?” Vijay managed to hide his face, till the local waded into Malad Station. He was the first one to get off the train. His steps were quicker than normal and he walked at this pace until he was completely out of station compounds. He was now mixed with the crowd on the main road. ‘Many losers like me here’ Vijay said to himself.

                                                              * * *

Almost everybody in his chawl had already slept by the time Vijay reached. A tiny zero Walt Bulb shone brightly from the first floor that was his home. ‘Sapna has not slept till now even today’ he thought. The bottle of country liquor which he had while coming back from the station was making him tizzy. He managed to tiptoe in the dark and reach the door.

“Why are you late? You are making this a habit day by day” Sapna said as she opened the door for him. Vijay aimed straight at the dining table chair and managed to sit there.

He hated his house, the tiny rooms choked in more of the day’s happening on Vijay and the dim lights were like a reflection of his inner state. It was only Sapna and his four year old daughter Kriti that he loved to watch in this house. He just loved them. They were like those earthen lamps one lights on Diwali, lightening up these dingy rooms and his life. But the best thing was that, Vijay could turn them off with just a blow whenever he wished to, Vijay felt like he was the real hero here.

“And who are you to change my habits, my mother?” Vijay stood up, speaking on top of his voice. “Shh.. It’s too late, don’t shout. You please sit I will serve the dinner for you.” Sapna tried to bring things under control for she knew, Vijay’s anger was devastating.

She served him rice and Vijay’s head was spinning, the country liquor was making him sleepy. “This Dal you made is clearer than tap water” Vijay thumped his fist on the table.

“God you will wake up Kriti, please be quite, it’s too late” Sapna pleaded.

“Why do you put her to sleep, before I come, how will she know who her father is? Or is it someone else? Vijay roared. He was turning into the brave hero of his dreams.

“You are evil, its better she sleeps before seeing you like this” Sapna retorted in a choking voice.

Vijay stood up; he smashed the plate off the table. The dal and rice splashed all over the wall and floor. Tears were filling up in Sapna’s eyes. She knew what was about to come next. Inside somewhere in the dark, Kriti hid herself under the bed sheets. Both mother and the daughter shivered.

“Now would you talk to me again like that?” Vijay caught hold of Sapna’s hair and scrubbed her face on the wall. The crumbling flakes of whitewash entered her mouth and nose. That was not enough. The hero had just reached platform number five; the train was yet to arrive.

Vijay kicked Sapna on to her stomach with his knees. “Would you talk to me again like that?” She wailed in pain, “No”.

He was panting badly, sweat had drenched the whole of his shirt, just like on those humid days when he used to run to the station after office.

Vijay slapped her repeatedly and her fair skin turned red. Sapna curled up on the floor writhing in pain and Vijay stood breathing heavily, watching her cry and crawl on the floor.

He closed his eyes; he had the same feeling, as if he was boarding the Dadar-Malad local. He waded his way to the unlighted room where kriti slept. She slightly wet the bed out of fear. Vijay lied down besides her, the passenger had got his seat and the train was chugging past the Bandra Bridge. He was feeling sleepy now.

Was it a dream or his real life? He wondered before he slept to his fantasy world.

All he knew was that he was the real hero. He was brave.