We were contemplating options for our stay at Udupi where my daughter was to start her college. I fumbled with my cellphone trying to get some signal as the train which had been speeding so far, was gradually slowing down to come to a halt. We stared out of the window of the coach to see that the platform was a seething mass of humanity.
Many travellers- few to alight and some to disembark created a commotion around the door of our bogey. I was making my way back to our designated seat after having freshened up when a quick flash of the train door stole my attention. A young mother along with her son and kumkum on her forehead, donning traditional attire walked past me trying to look for her berth. Elbowing through the crowd, a porter carried the luggage behind this lady. In this fuss, the little boy about five years of age was left standing at the door. He held his hands out of the door feeling the movement of the air as the train moved forward. “He shouldn’t be so close to the edge”, I thought aloud. Suddenly, adrenaline pumped through me and I abruptly pulled the little boy away from the door. The mother rushed and knelt quickly to hug her son and then thanked me warmly.
She had large beautiful black eyes; her hair was slick and pulled back into a thick braid. A string of jasmine adorned her hair which exuded a pleasant fragrance around. She hoisted her son high and placed him on her waist and the boy’s gaze caught mine. With a radiant smile, the mother and the son made their way back. This brief interaction had made me forget my nerves about travelling to a new place.
My daughter flicked through the pages of her novel, perched on our seats as my eyes drifted through the iron rods of the window. Rich hues of red blended with orange, crimson and purple as the sun set at the horizon. Lush trees covered the landscape with a flourish of warm colours. Rocky mounds arose from the ground. Its peaks well-sculpted here and there. My spirit soared at its sight as I was transported into timeless existence. The metallic shriek of the train announced its arrival at another station along the Western Ghats. The door was pushed open with a force of a middle-aged TTE in his black blazer and white trousers. During examining the tickets, even he could not help smiling at the little boy who bounced on his flexing feet, clapping. There is always something intoxicating about children and so was it with this excited child. His grin got wider and his contagious energy brought a smile to the faces of all the co-passengers around.
Each traveller vied for the attention of this little boy. He cocked his head to the side, his playful eyes shifting from one of the passengers to me. Whenever our eyes met, he quickly looked away. I hailed him, rummaging through my handbag, glad to have found a toffee. Holding it in my hand, I beckoned him to come to me. He sought permission from his mother and she peeked from their compartment, smiled at me and a connect was formed. The little toddler came to me, grabbed the toffee and vanished.
We rocked back and forth relentlessly as the train chugged forward. A whiff of warm tomato soup filled the compartment as the travellers waited their turn in eager anticipation. We relished the crisp breadsticks along with our soup and tucked our bowls away, only to find this little lad peeking from behind the partition of his berth. He fixed me a look that made me uneasy somehow; I sensed something amiss.
I wondered what it could possibly have been that my face had caught his attention to such an extent. I rubbed my forehead with the back of my palm, asking my daughter if everything was in place and simultaneously pulling out a small mirror from my bag. As I placed back the mirror and zipped up my bag, I was pleasantly surprised to find this boy approaching me. My face was washed blank with confusion as he gestured asking me to bring my face down. I lent him my ears thinking that he had some secret to share. He, however, flung his arm from behind his back, stuck a bindi on my forehead and wearing an expression of innocence and exploding into a giggle; he hopped back exclaiming ‘amma’!
The mother and the boy made our moments of the train journey cherished and a happy one. Before disembarking at the next station, the mother with her son stood near the door of the train as the wind ruffled the pallu of her beautiful saree. I smiled at them bidding goodbye.
Much later as I ruminated on the incident, I discovered that it is a widespread and prevalent custom in south India to have a “bottu” on your forehead which serves as a constant reminder to focus inwards through our third eye. Through our interaction, albeit momentary and aphonic- this little kid had managed to make us appreciate the extraordinary beauty embedded within each of us.
