Waving to strangers

The train stopped at the station, followed by a conflict of two opposing streams of people tyring to get in and out of the carriage. I looked through the window trying to catch a glimpse of life in that part of the world. But it is just the same as in every other railway station except for the black engravings on the yellow board. Humming chai-wallahs, fruit vendors with their highpitched voices, biscuit sellers peeping through the windows, the pepsi wallah who has all the cool drinks but pepsi, and the hostile looking bookseller with his book cart. Coolies braving their way through the crowd with unbelievable loads on their heads, travelers chasing the TTE for their reservation confirmation, and the lone cleaner sweeping the platform. The old man taking a nap on the bench, the nervous lady with a hand each on the two suitcases protecting her luggage from the thieves, and the sleepy faced middle aged man with a checked towel on his shoulder brushing his teeth. People at the drinking water tap using more than double the capacity of their water bottles for washing the bottles, televisions playing local advertisements without any audio , and the loudspeakers continuously emitting pseudo-human voices in different languages. Some things never change - spatially and temporally.

Amidst all the commotion was a shy kid, aged about five, cuddled beside an old man who mostly looked like his grandfather on the bench accross the newspaper stand. The loudspeaker emitted another sound and our train began to squeal and grunt. I have this habit of waving at strangers on ocassions when I'm sure they can easily mistake me for waving to someone else. This was fun. I thought this was a way of making instant friends with strangers, friends who part instantly, never meet again. But, it felt good when people waved to me, however, I walways know the wave is not intended for me. This time I signalled to the kid and waved to him. He must have been surprised at this and looked scared enough to wave back. I always wondered why no one ever waved back to me, unless the people I was waving at were my friends or family.

I had tried this many times. At parks, fairs, cinema houses, and when in general crowd. Most of the time I encountered confused and doubting looks but never got back a hearty wave. I even got hostile looks many times. The train pulled out of the station and we were soon out of the town. The train was rolling at a modest 40 kmph, crossing villages, canals, hills, and some more villages. Soon we reached an unmanned crossing and there was a tractor waiting for the train to pass. There were a bunch of village kids eagerly waiting for the train. Their looks suggested that it was a dream for them to get on to the huge iron machine. I kept looking at them and they waved. This took me off guard. I was sure they did not wave at me, but I waved back ... waved till they went out of sight. Happy, I went back to my seat and stared out of the window, waiting for the next station.