A Chance Meeting
Twenty-five years ago, I was going home from my college over the spring break. It was going to be a little over a half-day train journey. I was looking forward to meeting my family as soon as I could. In India, even in the spring, some days could get uncomfortably warm. It was one such day, and the train that I boarded was jam-packed with passengers. Five people were sitting on the berth meant for three, and people were even standing in the passageway.
As soon as I settled down on my seat, a young comely girl holding a cute baby caught my attention. She seemed to be same age as me, almost eighteen years old. The girl was dressed in a pale tangerine color salwar-suit and had her head covered modestly with a dupatta. Her baby seemed to be 6–7 months old.
The train started to move. The breeze coming from the open window provided some relief from the warm evening. I took out my book and started to read. I could not help but glance at the young mother every now and then to see how she was doing. By now, the girl had made a little room for herself on the train floor and settled down.
Just a short while later, the train suddenly stopped at some obscure place. After patiently waiting for some time, a few people got down to find out what was going on. We came to know that there was some problem on the track and until it got cleared, the train would not move. I scanned the train compartment again and noticed a family of four eating out of stainless-steel containers, students chatting jovially, businessmen with their shirt buttons open and collars pushed back, a few commuters fanning themselves with their morning newspaper, and a middle-aged plump woman sitting at the edge of the berth. The woman was dressed in a sari and had a thick line of vermillion in her hair parting.
I did the mental calculation that if the train does not move in an hour or so, I will miss my connecting train. Not knowing what would happen next, I tried to focus on my book. The train compartment quickly became uncomfortable with so many passengers and no air circulation. The baby was visibly uncomfortable and crying now.
Suddenly, I heard the young mother shouting at the middle-age woman. It seems that the woman had made some suggestion to the girl to make her baby comfortable. The mother mistook the woman’s attempt to help her as demeaning and wishing ill for the baby. The older woman tried to clarify at first, and then became quiet. The girl was agitated and continued to curse the older woman of being jealous and casting an evil eye on the baby. Perhaps being distraught from the heat or the train situation, this young mother continued her tirade every few minutes. Some onlookers looked at the middle-age woman with disdain, a few tried to pacify the mother, while most just looked at the situation with amusement. Imagine the public humiliation of being blamed for harming an angelic baby of a young, hapless mother! All when one’s intention was only well meaning.
I was surprised to see this unflappable woman sitting near me, not trying to explain, defend herself, or retaliate against the unfair accusations. We started talking. I came to know that she was a housewife, and she was coming back after taking care of some family affair. She lived in the same city where I was going to take my connecting train. She enquired about my college and where my parents lived.
The cooler nighttime temperature made sitting in the stranded train bearable. The train track took many hours to get fixed, and finally, the train picked up speed. The baby was now asleep, and the young mother was also napping. I went back to reading my book. A few stations later, the mother and the baby got down from the train. A few people helped her with her belongings, and the girl had a family member waiting to receive her.
It was dawn when the train reached my station. The middle-aged woman and I got down from the train. I had missed my original connecting train as expected, and my next connecting train was a few hours later in the morning. I intended to spend some time in the waiting room at the train station. The woman asked me to come with her to her home rather than to wait at the train station. I was surprised at her display of kindness after the incident that had transpired a few hours ago. I decided to go along with her.
We reached her home in a few minutes. It was a traditional, Marwari business household where many generations of extended family lived together. Her family was surprised to see an unknown girl with her in the wee hours of the morning. She explained the situation, and her family quickly made room for me to get some rest. A few curious kids wanted to take a peek at the stranger who their aunt had brought home.
I noticed that she was highly respected in her family, almost like her words were just obeyed without any question. After a couple of hours, it was time for me to leave for the railway station. She asked one of the kids in the family to arrange for a transport, I thanked her for her hospitality, and left.
In hindsight, it seems foolish and perhaps risky on my part to go along with an unknown person.
Years later, I learned that people who are steadfast and do not lose their bearing in the face of adversity or social disgrace can be inherently trusted. Inner constancy comes from self-evaluation and self-correction where one judges oneself against one’s own values. In that case, validation or disapproval of others seizes to matter. People who live their life by a clear moral code do not get blown by small storms. I now understand that perhaps she was respected in her family because she would have dealt with many such situations of misunderstandings — anger outbursts of family members and familial conflicts in her extended family setup — with emotional restraint and virtue. In the words of one of my favorite writers, David Brooks from his book The Road to Character,
Good, wise hearts are obtained through lifetimes of diligent effort to dig deeply within and heal lifetimes of scars… you can’t teach it or email it or tweet it. It has to be discovered within the depths of one’s own heart when a person is finally ready to go looking for it, and not before. The job of the wise person is to swallow the frustration and just go on setting an example of caring and digging and diligence in their own lives.
That time, I think my action was out of my sense of adventure and curiosity, wanting to know that woman a little better. I boarded my train feeling happy about meeting someone wonderful and excited about reaching home soon.
I forgot all about this meeting until recently a friend of mine asked me about the people who have influenced me. I realized that for many socially difficult situations in my life, I have tried to not react in the moment and gradually internally process it later. Some chance meetings, however short, can leave a big influence on one’s life.
