Another Train Journey

It was another one of those long train journeys taking me home after a conference. I did the usual things to while away the morning- reading, dreaming and scheming. North bound trains, I am convinced, have the worst food. Fortunately, choosing a meal was easy. I had the simple choice between vegetable biriyani and egg biriyani. I favoured the vegetable biriyani , simply because I believed it was less toxic. I don’t particularly like the terrible experience of salmonella poisoning (with rotten eggs). Certainly not in our railway toilets. I tucked reluctantly into the half cooked, suspiciously coloured rice with a fragile plastic fork which distinctly looked used. There was only a faint suggestion of vegetables in the meal-a sliver of carrot and a slice of green chilli. The only hope of anything palatable lay inside a plastic pickle packet that was clearly not meant to be opened without a dental struggle. I tried vainly to open it with my teeth and tasted success when it spilt unceremoniously on my moustache and lips. The IRCTC sure does make you work for a meal.
I then settled in for a planned afternoon nap. Over the years I learnt the hard way that it was not easy to take a siesta in a train. There would be the loud conversations between passengers, ringing of mobiles and the intermittent hawker who walked down the aisles shouting “Waterrrrr” or “Tomater soup” or whatever. The few who wished to take a nap invariably snored- and they always fell asleep before I did. These days I go equipped with ear plugs which are quite effective in keeping out most of the noises. I woke up at 4.00 PM ( an hour before my scheduled arrival) surprised at the silence around me. There were three other fellow passengers in my coupe. They talked and laughed animatedly but noiselessly. I removed my ear plugs and was surprised that there was still no sound. I would have panicked about my eardrums but for the fact that I could still hear the clatter of the train.
I watched amazed as the three of them spoke with their lips, hands and a wide array of facial expressions. I soon realized that they were all deaf and dumb. It made me wonder at the remarkable nature of their interactions. There was never a moment in their conversations when one of them could take their eyes of the faces of the others. There was something intense in the communication which we ‘normal’ people ignore. We can talk, narrate, curse or ridicule someone while looking away from them. It is our way of emotionally distancing ourselves when we lie, deceive or have something unpleasant to say. If these special people dared to take their eyes away from the other, there would be no conversation. It would be like putting an ear plug in. Looking into the eyes of others, brings to human interaction a sublime level of intensity and sincerity. I wondered if it would be possible for these three persons to lie or deceive while looking into the face of the other. During a lull in the conversation, the oldest of the three, seeing me watching them, indicated with his hands that the teenager sitting beside him was his daughter. He put a cupped right hand, palm facing downwards and the left hand vertically below, palm facing upwards to indicate a child. I smiled. What else could I do? I was the handicapped one in the crowd. The gentleman then indicated the young handsome man sitting across him and indicated that his daughter and the young man were going to play badminton. He indicated badminton with a telling unmistakable swing of his hands. With my limited dumb charade vocabulary I asked him where they were going. All three immediately turned their attention to me and the older man pulled out a document for me to read. They were on their way from Trivandrum to Lucknow for the national Badminton trials for the deaf and dumb. If they did get selected they could go to South Korea for the world meet. I smiled and indicated a flying airplane by with my hands. They nodded indulgently. I was learning. The older man then revealed through a complex series of actions and lip synchs that he had another daughter and that all four including his wife were deaf and mute. With some difficulty (for me) they managed to ask what I did? I pointed to my mouth and acted out a tooth extraction and they went into paroxysms of appreciative laughter- the only sounds that came out of them. I really was learning. I was just thinking that they must be lucky to not have to use a mobile phone, when the younger man whipped out a Nokia handset. He wanted my number. I wrote it down for him. He indicated that he would message me by gesturing and acting out the process on his mobile keypads. Just as I realized I was catching on the train began to slow down. I was reaching my destination. As the train came to a halt, the sounds of the station came in through the open door of the coach. A cacophony of languages, footfalls and yelling interspersed with those of the hawkers hoarsely vending their tea, coffee and Vadai. Welcome back to the real world. We said our goodbyes with handshakes and I gave the silent universal thumbs up to the two young players. Driving home from the station, I resolved that I will learn the hand language. It would be a great way to spend my old age- gesticulating silently to my wife and breaking out into peals of laughter!!!