Everyone Has A Story

I was told nay, warned by my wife not to venture out; what with a bandaged left leg with another 15 days to go for the removal of bandage and the hardship of travelling two nights in a train! But the official work at New Delhi can’t wait, I argued.

Thus, I set out to go show the whole world that I am more loyal than the King and reached the Bangalore railway station, virtually dragging my heavy left foot.

Though I tried very hard, I couldn’t get reservation in first class compartment and thus had to settle down for a second-class sleeper coach. I consoled myself that it is a matter of two days as my return journey by flight was confirmed.

The second-class compartment bearing number S7 was slowly approaching and all the passengers waiting to board the train were readying themselves to get in as quickly as possible.

I was in no hurry to get in amongst the crowd; the least I could do was not to aggravate the injury. So, I waited for the last of the passengers to get in before I boarded the train. Laboriously, I pulled by hand baggage along with me and searched for my berth. Finally, I found my allotted place and putting the hand baggage underneath, settled down on my seat, stretched my leg, heaved a sigh of relief, and looked around.

It was the typical Indian railway bogey with passengers of all hues and cry belonging to various parts of the country, speaking in different tongues. Everyone was settling down and looking for space to put their excess luggage in an empty space.

As the train chugged along, people around also relaxed and started small talk with their immediate neighbor.

An elderly person sitting next to me, curiosity writ all over his face, tapped my shoulder and asked me; “You seem to have a broken ankle.? What happened?”

I was in no mood to get into the conversation with total strangers; but not replying would be construed as rude. 

So, I told him “a motorcyclist hit me.”

People around me stopped talking and looked expecting me to continue. When I did not continue but pretended to look outside the window, they were all disappointed that I didn’t elaborate on a very interesting story and completed it in just one sentence!

The old man looked at me expectantly and not getting the required response, he went and completed the story himself; “Oh I know what would have happened. You were busy crossing the road and this young man, not wearing even a helmet, was driving rashly and must have hit you. Who took you to hospital?”

I was annoyed; I was the one who was injured but the old man was talking as if he was an eye witness to the whole affair! The old man not only labelled all the motor cyclist in the world as rude but went on to suggest that a separate law should be created just to sue the rude bikers. 

Even before the old man stopped his rumbling, a middle-aged man sitting in the opposite seat started; “You know, last month my wife’s uncles’ daughter-in-law’s mother too was hit by a bike and the fellow didn’t even bother to stop. But for the fact that nearby walkers came to her rescue, she would have died on the spot. The family spent more than Rs.20,000/- The middle-class people are being hit hard by the hospitals who just wait for such an opportunity.”

He looked at me expectantly that I would come out with my hospital bill amount! I just looked outside and said nothing.

I didn't have enough time to breathe; the person sitting on the side berth started in a confidential tone as if to warn everyone about gravity of his story. “Your case is ok. The lady got her broken limbs repaired for just Rs.20,000/-. My father-in-law’s younger brother’s daughter-in-law was not so lucky. The hit and run case resulted in miscarriage and ended in divorce!” 

The person near the window joined the brigade in a mocking tone. “You talk of divorce? my neighbour’s son-in-law’s mother, who met with an accident, just like what our friend sitting here had, had to sacrifice her leg as she was a diabetic patient! Gangrene would have set in and resulted in death, had they not chopped off the leg.”

The old man sitting next to me tapped my shoulder and inquired, “Are you a diabetic?” I could see that he was hoping that I would say yes! I felt like jumping out of the train!

My head started aching and I contemplated moving out of the bogey but my fractured leg forced me to abandon the thought. I cursed myself for not listening to my wife’s suggestion of postponing the Delhi trip.

There was a lull; as they say, calm before the storm, for 10 seconds.  Now it was the turn of a turbaned old man who hated the entire population of youth below 20! He started narrating another story involving a teen age biker who hit and injured one of his very distant relative.

There were seven persons sitting around me and I thought at the most, the story telling competition would be over once all them narrated their share of lore. But I was wrong! Once everyone’s turn was over, the first person grabbed everyone’s attention by narrating a gripping story of how his younger brother’s leg got broke and he almost drowned in the well in the village when a bullock charged at him, some 20 years ago!

 

Now it was the turn of almost everyone to dig out from their memories or make it up, events related to wild animals’ attack as the subject of storytelling.

I left the seat and despite the pain in my leg, dragged my feet and went to the rest room which, despite the stinking smell, appeared to be a better place than my seat. I was forced to come out when someone started banging the door as I was taking very long time.

Once back in my seat, I observed that my absence was hardly was noticed as everyone was busy listening to another episode of ‘wild animal attack’.

Suddenly the crowd around me realised that I, the originally injured person and the initiator of this whole episode, was neither providing any response to their stories nor participated in their story telling rivalry. 

My next seat veteran shook my shoulder once again and said, “Sir, what about you? You did not tell us your motor bike accident story in detail at all?

I shrugged my shoulder, looked at every one whose eyes were now riveted on me. Most of them leaned forward while one or two even stood up in excitement.

In bland voice I said, ” What story”? I just broke my leg that’s all. In fact, amongst my relatives or even amongst my neighbours, no one has ever met with any accident! My accident is the first one!

Needless to say, the entire gang of storytellers felt cheated and their faces turned red!