Co-passenger for a few minutes

Agla station, Goregaon...the sweet voice in the Borivali-bound Fast-train announced. Tired after a Crawford Market shopping stint and just waiting to get home and hit the bed, my mother-in-law and I got up from our seats and headed towards the bogie-door. For us Bangaloreans not used to a 35 km travel even if by a quickie train, it was only natural.

A few minutes before, I wondered what a commuter who just got in was talking about to someone behind me, at the aisle. ``People will get scared. It would be better if you sat inside,'' she told someone with a smile.

My eyes naturally strayed towards the aisle where a woman in a nomadic attire squatted, something that irritates middle-class commuters but they just have to put up with it. Seated opposite was a boy of about 10 years. But it was really her little co-passenger clinging to her pallu who caught our attention.

Mom-in-law and I exchanged smiles. It was a toddler monkey, held by a rope in its masterni's hand. Bright eyes, nimble hands, a bored look, it was certainly not the kind that would scare people away. Every commuter readying to alight at Goregaon smiled when she saw this tiny passenger... weariness forgotten for a moment. 

For a minute, it played with the masterni's pallu. The next minute, it glanced through the other passengers with the same bored expression. And then turned towards the painted wall-barricade behind. The mustard-yellow paint was such an invitation to its restless fingers! The toddler started peeling them off, just to pass time, and shredding them to pieces.

Agla station, Goregaon..Pudhe station Goregaon...the speaker blared again. 

The masterni picked up her paraphernalia to get up. Mr Toddler now got up and moved about, putting us commuters on guard...never know when kids jump at you!

What the monkey did next took us by surprise. Like a true professional commuter, the guy moved to closer to the doorway, and held on to it, looking out into the open air. He did it with such ease and elan that for a second or two, we forgot we actually had to alight! The pro that he was, even other girls holding on to the doorway pole looked at him in admiration.

I asked the masterni. Naam kya hai iska?

Raju, she replied.

Isko acchi tarah pata hai kahaan utarna hai, na? I asked her.

Haan, roz aata jata hai na...aadat pad gayi hai..., said the masterni, lovingly.

(he comes and goes everyday, its become a habit)

By now, the train came to a halt at the station...and Raju jumped out much before any of us did. The masterni and her protege walked off, and vanished into the crowd.

Sometimes, the mere sight of a stranger is such a whiff of fresh air in the monotony called Mumbai.