The Truth about “WL”

“No, you don’t have a ticket madam, this is a waiting list ticket. You have now moved up to the 10th on the list so 10 more people need to cancel their tickets in the next 10 minutes, which will not happen” said the old train officer to our shocked and distraught faces.

“But sir, how would we know? It only says “WL” on the ticket and we have to catch that train to Varanasi” we said in a panicky voice and wide eyed with terror.

Our first bump on the trip was quite a big, sharp edged and filled with shattered glass bump. It was when we realized that all the trains we thought we had booked for our trips were “Waiting List” tickets and for each one of them , we needed a plague to hit the departure city, because only then would the hundreds of people ahead of us on the list MAYBE cancel their tickets and then we can get on the train.

Oh how terrified we felt standing there in the busy train station looking at our train leave us and go far away and with it all our dreams of getting to a warm bed and maybe even a warm shower. It was night time and we had no idea what to do so we spent the following few hours standing in useless queues that always ended up with:

“No madam, you don’t have a ticket”

“No madam, you cannot purchase a ticket from here”

“No madam, there are no spaces on the next Varanasi train”

After hours of asking and hours in queues we were not disappointed by anything except one thing. It was our realization after all that time spent that there were other queues for females that were much shorter and faster; but not one out of the hundreds of gentlemen staring at us bothered to let us know. So we just stood there like complete idiots thinking that apparently females did not book tickets in India because we were the only ones there!

So finally, we found a ticket to another destination we had meant to visit and that was Agra. We bought the “2AC Class” on the Agra train then found out about a tourist quota so some tickets were available for tourists but they were not available online.

We made our way to a tourist office a few hours before boarding our Agra train in an attempt to secure the train from Agra to Varanasi(Our 3rd destination). This is when we heard the killer words “No madam, only available seats on the Varanasi train are in sleeper class”

We thought, how bad can this be? Let’s go for it. So we boarded on our Agra 2AC train, leaving the worries of our next train ride in sleeper class for later.

The Trip To Varanasi

After a 3 hour delay, we heard the train arriving to our platform and as relief hit us, we boarded the train and were faced with absolute shock. We walked through the strangest array of people, limbs, luggage and 3 bunk beds. After what seemed like forever, we reached our beds and no different to other ones, found a whole family of 6 or 7 sleeping in our 3 dirty and tiny beds.

“Excuse me sir, you’re sleeping in our beds” I said shakily. A small head came out from under the covers, looked at me then went back to sleep. The shakiness turned to anger and my tone turned aggressive. After what seemed like forever, we got the family out of our beds. They were struggling with their young boy that broke into tears and trying to get their bags from underneath those that managed to cram themselves on the floor between the other beds.

I suddenly felt suffocated, it was the smells, the crying of the young boy, the limbs dangling outside the beds and me trying to get to the safety of my bed; I just wanted it all to end.

Cramming myself with my bag in the middle bunk that forced you to sleep as there was no headroom, I covered my face and my body with the blanket. I was taking shelter from the cold that came zapping through the broken windows of the train and the eyes of the people around that just stared shamelessly and relentlessly. How was i to sleep?

After a few minutes, I started to lose the tension, I took the cover off my head and looked around. The mother was still struggling with her crying son, the husband was standing there trying to find another place, others looked at them with sympathy and others looked at us with that same sympathy. Then, all my anger turned to pity and self-loathing. I started thinking of why they would sleep in my bed. It’s not because they just liked sleeping in other people’s beds and it’s not because mine was a bed of feathers.

They were desperate.

I was desperate too. We were both desperate for more comfort; could I have crammed that child next to me? I probably could have, but I didn't. I didn't because I was scared and worried and because to me they were simply the people that were in my bed. They were not the family that had names, birthdays, problems of their own; not the family that were getting somewhere and they too didn't want to spend 14 hours standing up just like I didn't want to.

I, too, was probably the person that they thought was just selfish and had enough money to buy a full bed of their own. I, too, was the person that just kicked them out of their beds.

Which got me thinking, Do people actually think of each other? Have I ever thought of my driver’s journey back to his hometown every weekend? Because after that trip i made, i can now definitely imagine his Bani Suef train ride. Matter of fact is, I have not. Simply because his place in my life is that of the driver that drives me and my family to and from places. I have occasionally thought of his comfort while waiting outside my house, don’t get me wrong, i’m not heartless. Have I really thought of his life though? Have I really thought of the lives of those around me that are not friends or family?

I’m not a preacher or a caller to acts of greatness and charity. I did nothing about that family and I am doing nothing about it now. It’s just a realization that I am discussing. A realization that might change the way we look at each other.

I realized then that we sometimes do not really look at people around us, they sometimes just happen to exist in our environment. They are the ones standing in the street when we get into our cars, they are the ones waiting outside the cafes we are going into, they are the people sitting on the tables around us in a restaurant. We might spend years greeting them as we go in and out of our comfort zones. But if we look around and really look at each other, we will realize that we are not extras in each others movies, we all come from somewhere, we go through things and we are heading to our own destinations.

We have a beginning, an end and a life in between.