Monday, September 25, 2006
Fear
As the train started speeding I stood at the door holding the support rod in the middle. I knew I would have to move away because the next station would be on the same side and people would rush in. Someone called, "Excuse me." I did not pay attention. The words were repeated. I looked inside wondering who and what it was.
"Yes." I replied.
"Can you come and sit here?" she indicated to a seat next to hers.
"Ummm why?" I asked, I had no intention of seating there in this heat.
"Please sit here." She repeated. Her voice had an edge.
"No, I can't sit inside. Its too hot. I am ok here." I replied and continued standing.
"If you don't sit here, I will pull the chain." She said, her voice trembled a bit. Women around her raised their eyes to see what was happening. No one intervened.
"Arre, for what joy?" I was a bit peeved so my voice was mocking.
"What if you leave the bag and get off somewhere?" She almost shouted.
"I would loose my job if I leave the it here and get off." I replied and went inside.
"Just sit here, who knows what is in the bag?" Her cheeks had turned red and the voice was panicky.
"What do you mean?" Just as I uttered those words I realised what she really meant.
"I mean, what if this bag ..." she spoke in spurts but did not complete the sentence.
"Has a bomb?" I completed it for here. She did not reply but I could sense some hostility all around me. "I don't have a bomb in that bag. Its just a laptop."
"So why don't you sit here, near it." She asked.
"Because it is very hot and I don't like reaching office all drenched in sweat. You are a working woman, I am sure you understand that." I argued hoping that she would see sense.
"Look, I don't want to argue but it would make me feel better if you sat here." There was something about her voice that made me realise how scared she was of the possibility that my bag held a bomb. Her eyes were a bit wet and pleading.
During this time the train had already crossed four or five stations and many people got on and off, no one had bothered to be a part of the arguement. Some of them watched with various expressions on their faces largely amused at the paranoia of the lady and maybe at my obstinacy as well but as I sat beside the lady and looked at her face now calmly reading the newspaper, I remembered her expression of a few minutes ago. She was afraid. There was fear in those eyes. Fear borne out of suspicion and paranoia. It seemed amusing to me and others around me but to her it was crucial that I sat beside her.
Mumbai is a city inhabited by people who realise that they have no choice to but feign their desperation and frustration as courage and strength but occasionally at unconcious moments the fear resurfaces from their stern features. This fear will slowly loose to routine until another wound peirces them and it emerges stronger than ever. I don't know how many wounds this city can take and how many times it will defeat fear but this lady's reaction made me realise that it might not take all this much more.
Really, mazaa aa gaya :)
Agreed that the lady was scared... but she was also alert... and she was the only one who bothered to talk to you and tell you... so many others didn't bother... what if there really is a terrorist tomorrow, who places a bag on the overhead shelf and stands at the door for the want of air, and then walks away leaving the compartment to blow up?
hope to continue with this one properly.
I agree, she was alert but then again it was an over-reaction. Really if I wanted to blow up the trian, I would have jumped out at the starting station itself. Your point is true that no one else bothered but then thats what is Mumbai all about. People don't bother and this fear is changing the nature of the city from the couldn't-care-less to alertness to the extent of paranoia. I feel it is a sad thing to happen.
And good narration, like always. :)
Had it been fiction I would have made you wonder at her puzzled expression, think of her as a crackpot or sth. Then go to your office, proceed to clear up your table and on a coffee-cup stained old newspaper see her blood painted face when the bombs blew bombay.
But that would be fiction.
but then this is fact not fiction. this lady happily got off at Lower Parel.
Its good to hear that people are aware....though none of the other passengers included themselves....but then too...even 1 person makes a difference....
I did not imply for her to be blown up, after you get off. I wanted you (the narrator) to realize (once you reach office) that she had survived a bomb blast earlier, nad THAT was causing a phobia. You know such things would scar ones mind for ever.
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