Bogey, Detachable by Roopa Sarah Thomas

My parents were meeting her after years. The only contact they had till then were those yearly greeting cards and occasional phone calls. So when they heard that she was coming to Chennai, they decided to meet her in the station. I had met her a few months earlier, when she paid me a surprise visit in Pune. There were 120 of us in class, with one grumpy guest lecturer in front. And almost suddenly the doors opened and a familiar face looked in smiling. Loudly she said, "Roopa ko zara bahar bhejo," generating a lot of sniggers. Embarrassed, I ran out, hoping I was invisible. But it was nice meeting her after so many years. Our families got friendly when we were in Assam for four years. And now she was passing Chennai. But more interesting than her visit was, however, the way in which she was travelling. With a big group, she was touring all the major religious destinations in Chennai. And, they were all travelling in a bogey that was detached from time to time, only to be attached to other trains.

A rather self-sufficient bogey, the people travelling with cooks and helpers. When the train (that the bogey was attached to) reached a particular station (where it had to wait to be attached to another train), the helpers would settle down to wash clothes on the platform. The cooks made hot puris, chappatis, sabjee and a little rice. Passengers were to bring with them two plates, two katoris and two steel glasses. While my parents were in the station, they were also offered tea, which they politely declined. A semi-clad man was making the tea on the platform. After waiting for the water to boil in a huge cauldron, he scooped out fistfuls of milk powder with his hands. And when the milk was ready, he used a generous supply of tea powder with his hands as well.

The passengers were busy washing clothes and making plans during their brief stop in Chennai. After much discussion, they had decided to visit Kancheepuram. All the women wore nylon saris (this is apparently compulsory). And many of the passengers came without their watches and spectacles because they imagined it would offend the Gods. Only she had dared to be different. So everyone had become dependant on her, for the time and the news (because of her specs). She chose to spend the day in our house, while the rest of the group visited Kancheepuram. But before coming away, she introduced my parents to her daughters in-law. The trip had been their brainwave and she hadn't expected it to be so difficult. The group was painfully conservative. Her daughters in-law weren't very different either. When my dad extended his arm to shake hands, the couple bowed down, ran towards my parents (in the same posture) and said their namastes. My parents struggled with their Hindi and after a few polite inquiries and after being invited to Jaipur, the good-byes were said.

She came home and enjoyed a good meal. During the trip, bathing had been difficult. Many of her fellow passengers were simply pouring a bucket of water on themselves (on the platform). So she had been avoiding this shocking form of cleansing oneself. So as soon as she came home, she had a bath. She looked around the house and seemed mighty pleased when she came to my brother's room. His room has the bookshelf that proudly holds most of the books that my mom has collected over the years. Smiling, she looked at my amused brother and said, "Zaroor America Jaoge. Itne Saare books hain."

After lunch, she gave my folks, a detailed account of life on the detachable bogey. "A thirty day trip," she exclaimed, wondering how she would get through it. Her companions were all rich business folk, who were living in such terrible conditions. And they had the strangest notions about what would please God and what wouldn't. This trip had served as an eye-opener, for we very rarely sit down to think about people who lead so different a lifestyle. These people had the money and everything that came with it.

But without the education, they lay steeped in conservative, narrow-minded views. It felt like the world outside was different. But inside this detachable bogey, lived people who thought taking along a Walkman during such a trip was blasphemous. The day ended and she got into the bogey that was now attached to yet another train. The good-byes were said, and the bogey carrying people without watches and spectacles, set out to yet another destination. And I wonder if God is watching them from above, wearing an amused, but affectionate smile.