I was on my way to Belagavi by the Bombay-bound Chalukya Express. I boarded the train at Tirunelveli. Seated in front of me was a cheerful woman with her humble and obedient husband and three helpful children. She exchanged pleasantries with me. Being shrewd, she readily sensed my age-related ailments and asked her son to shift to the upper berth, leaving the reserved lower berth to me as a gesture of goodwill.
The train moved at a snail’s pace and finally reached Madurai. A woman with a bag and heavy baggage entered our compartment and settled in her seat with great difficulty. The children helped the new entrant arrange her belongings, made her feel at home and established a good rapport by calling her auntie often times.
The lady and children, now settled in Bombay, filled the whole compartment with love and affection and made the tedious journey a pleasant one. A biology teacher in a Kendriya Vidyalaya, she was proficient in Hindi, Marathi, Kannada, Tamil and English. She had a mine of info to share, from the three-language formula to PM Modi’s bold decision on Article 370 to the drought in Chennai. She shared her ideas politely with due respect to the views of the rest. Anchors and participants in TV debates could learn a lesson or two from her.
She talked to the woman who boarded the train in Madurai in Kannada for some time and translated to us that she was to step down at Birur to proceed to the renowned Sringeri, where Adi Sankara had established the Saradha Mutt, one of his many mutts to unite the nation. Birur came. The whole compartment helped the woman get down with her heavy belongings in two minutes.
As someone who is bilingual with just knowledge of Tamil and English and has a language handicap beyond Bengaluru for all practical purposes, I could have missed much of the journey but for the teacher, who translated things in no time.
I was envious of almost everything about her—helping nature, the way her children have been brought up, being a polyglot and so on. She treated the whole compartment as her own family. This is what our dharma is all about—Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam. I talked to her on and on without feeling time trickling by. And my destination Belagavi came. I stood up with folded hands and bid adieu to the blessed family.
G nataraja Perumal
Email: natarajgreen@gmail.com