By Krishanali Merchant
Regular human behaviour and actions can be very intriguing. It makes me wonder how people, even if they live beside one another, experience reality so differently. One’s habitual actions and mannerisms in day-to-day life reflect a lot about oneself. The way we live every day, ignoring visible sights that reflect the problems we face in this country as if they are normal, is disheartening.
Yesterday, I set off to my local train station in Mumbai to catch a train to my aunt’s house. Upon entering, I was surrounded by the usual hustle and bustle of the station. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so people were generally using the train to commute to work, attend meetings, and whatnot. The whole area reeked of a herby, tobacco-like scent, a predictable odor in the shadows of Mumbai. The ticket counter was busy with people purchasing tickets, with occasional arguments over petty matters. The station was equipped with multiple benches between each platform, often misused as beds by the homeless. I saw employees scurrying up and down the stairs to a place upstairs, indicating it was time to swap shifts for them. The man running down, looking exhausted, opened his wallet to try to purchase some refreshments outside the station but was dismayed to see it empty. Yet, he remained happy to return home from his night shift, giving me motivation for the day and reminding me to always be grateful, as even those less privileged than I still find hope and happiness in the little things of their life. After purchasing my ticket, I was asked to proceed to the waiting room as I had thirty minutes until the arrival time of my train.
Upon my arrival, I observed the tiny packed room, not in the cleanest state but clean enough to sit in. It was teeming and lively, with everyone engaged in their own matters. I occupied a seat in the corner, where I was surrounded by an array of diverse people. The only source of entertainment in the room was a monitor displaying the train schedules. I overheard the foreign
travellers behind me discussing where they ought to pick up breakfast, some locals opposite me patiently waiting for the train, perhaps to go to their office, and multiple college students chattering, some even completing assignments and discussing the answers to a test they had the previous day. I could still hear constant arguments from people outside. Fruit and tea vendors entered the room, shouting to market their refreshing goods. The room was filled with the aroma of fresh tea; it tempted me to buy a cup for myself. The taste enchanted me, and I could say the same for the travellers behind me as they seemed astonished by the remarkable flavour, indicating they had tried it for the first time. Some decided to indulge in prayer during this time, and some small children who seemed to accompany their grandfathers kept talking about stories from school, things they wanted to do, or how excited they were to visit their other relatives. Old men were laughing in joy as they played cards among one another, trying to teach a young man how to play as well. A wealthy-looking businessman beside me was attending to calls and complaining about the bustling traffic of Mumbai and how the train was his only escape. He even opened his computer, browsing for the best locations for a vacation. This was very ironic in contrast to a poor man beside him with torn-out clothes and a big bag, perhaps with articles he sought to sell.
Once my train arrived, I was put into a state of reflection. One thing I noticed was that no matter what, everyone made productive use of this time, regardless of their profession or age, whether it be engaging in a fruitful conversation with a stranger or catching up on work and assignments. Everyone followed a normal routine and utilised the excess time given to them. This also made me realise how different life is between individuals. Some were wealthy and relaxed, while others were pleading for spare change. However, all of them live just next door and have completely different lifestyles. Simply sitting in a waiting room can make you ponder about the state of a country, the world, or humanity overall, just by observing a few actions considered normal in this life.
By Krishanali Merchant
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