A strange encounter

11.30 pm….. Really pissed off I scampered in to the Thrissur Railway Station waving a quick bye bye to my uncle who had come to drop me off on his bike. Thanks a lot, I muttered between my breath. Now, where was that wash?? Never had bothered to drink water from it ever, but today it is going to be of some use to me. Yup, I had crow shit on my new Classic Polo shirt, believe that, and it was oozing down on to my hands now. [I think this crow had a loose motion or something, usually the shit stays down hard and solidifies (past experience)]. I found the wash, or rather ‘drinking water’ thing which is kept in almost all the railway station now and started searching for a paper to wipe it off…… “Oops! No paper. Simply great!!” and in the end, yeah, i made my hand do the wiping cursing my uncle at the same time and, in the end, succeeded removing that slimy thing. Whatever, the shit was gone, so did its smell or was it my olfactory adaptation?

It was 10.45pm when my sweet uncle offered to drop me off to station. I was going to Trivandrum by the usual amrita express which is supposed to reach at 11.50pm sharp. As usual I was loaded with laptop on my back and a huge green bag in my hand. I hopped on to the hero Honda glamour and we rode in to the night, with me promising myself to buy ear plugs next time I get on to his bike. He has this favourite habit of teasing me all the way (I am on his bike, what can I say). And then he said, “You’ll reach early to station if I leave u off now, why don’t we take a ride through the city and I’ll drop u after that”. I gave a weak innocent smile which he took for yes. He thinks I am Hercules or something to sit there on the bike with 15 kg bag in my hand and a laptop with accessories on my back and go for a long ride, so sweeeet of him to be so caring. No arguments again and we rode through the city commenting on late night ladies who were still lurking around in the streets and shouting at the stray dogs who had woken from their days sleep. And then the disaster struck, I found my shoulders unusually hot, turned my face towards it and got a sniff. Okay, control your emotions. the crow did it again. It had emptied its entire stock of (grayish white with a tinge of black) bowel on my new shirt. CRAP!! Yes crow crap and lots of it. Whom should I curse…the Crow or my Uncle?? Didn’t feel like blaming the crow just then coz I had bitter experiences of diarrhea….trust me, It is really hard to control the urge. So I happily put the blame on my uncle.

Back on the station, I sat there in drenched shirt. The station looked deserted except for a sweet couple across the railway line on platform 2 sharing a seat. “College students, possibly studying in Chennai”, I told myself. Chennai mail hadn’t arrived yet. Lucky them. I couldn’t control a smile. They are getting more time at the station for themselves. I suddenly felt lonely sitting all by myself in the station. Bitter nostalgic memories were creeping in to my mind. A sweet voice of a lady cut my thoughts, the lady on the microphone. “Train is late”, she boomed over the microphone. By how many minutes, or rather hours she didn’t say. “Am not having a good night” I told myself. And I was terribly sleepy. As I sat there with a sleep inducing magazine which I had bought to read seeing the interesting picture outside, I could hear a guy with a sound of a duck chatting away on his phone. He was walking up and down on the platform. As he drew near, I set my eyes on him. First look, The guy looked like a total Freak or rather his look freaked me out. He looked like a 21 year old, short, slim and fair. had long hair like a rock star, no mustache but a beard, and wore a yellow round neck t-shirt with a black overcoat, with nike shoes. He was aptly dressed if he was abroad, but on a hot night at Thrissur station, this guy looked alien. He was walking with a 500ml Pepsi bottle in his hand, which wasn’t opened and chatting away in a strange Malayalam accent. He didn’t look like a person I would befriend on a station at night (maybe even during daytime), so I turned my face away.

I suddenly felt a hand on my still wet shoulders and looked up, my eyes meeting the eye of this above mentioned freak. “When is the next train to kannur”, he asked in English. “There are 3 trains” I replied, “maveli, Malabar and later mangalore express at 3, you ought to stand at platform 2 to get it.” I moved a bit to my left hoping he would release his hand off my shoulders. I noticed he wore a silver bracelet. He thought my movement to the left as a signal to occupy the small space to my right and sat there. I looked the other way pretending to act as if he doesn’t exist and totally involved in my ‘not at all interesting’ magazine. But he nudged me and pointed back to a lady and a daughter sitting in the ladies waiting room behind. “The mother thinks I am looking at her daughter and is giving me awful looks”, he said. I gave a polite smile. And then he began chatting in his Donald duck kind of voice about girls, girls and more girls. He was telling how the girl sitting behind was giving him ‘interested’ looks, and that’s the reason he looked back. But the mother things he is the culprit etc etc etc. He very innocently admitted that his biggest weakness was and will be girls. I gave a sheepish smile at everything and he thought I was enjoying all this. The guy standing next gave me a sympathetic smile. At last he started asking about me.

“What are u doing?”

“Studying”

“Where”

“College of engineering Trivandrum”

“I was a technical student too. I completed my diploma in electronics and communications 10 years back and worked for emirates airlines for a period of 6 years. Now I am working on a Tamil movie and currently going to give a talk to some students in Kannur”

“Ok mister. I didn’t ask you all this nor do I want to know,” I wanted to say. Okay. This guy must be quite old I thought. He didn’t look so with his current model like attire.

As if reading my mind, he said, “I am 30 years old and a muslim, but I didn’t marry. I have an aim in life. If I marry, I’ll have to settle down. Then, my aim will not be satisfied. After studies, I didn’t have any aim. So I worked for 6 years. But I didn’t gain anything. Now I have a goal…and I am on my way to fulfill it.”

Not understanding what trash he was talking, I simply nodded my head. I looked at my watch. It was 12.45am. Where the hell was my train??? Can’t this freak move over to the other platform? Or was the girl sitting behind in the waiting room the reason for his friendliness and kept him here with me.
He came closer to me and put his hand on my shoulders again. “Alright mister, I don’t like this” I wanted to scream. Instead I clutched my laptop even tighter. “Do u want Pepsi?” “No” I gave a short reply.

“Why don’t you grow your hair?”

“Uh”

“You look like john Abraham, u know that”

I straightened a bit on hearing that. Okay. It’s the first time someone said like that to me. This guy couldn’t be that bad after all.

“U should grow your hair. Look at me. I haven’t cut my hair for the past 3 years (no wonder it looks like this). It gives me a sense of pride to show people how I have maintained my hair (by not exposing it to water, I suppose)”.

“Well. I get a headache when my hair grows beyond a particular limit. Besides its hot now, so better to have short hair during summer.”

Well… he came even closer and i held my laptop even tighter.

“This hair was given by god, we shouldn’t cut it. Everything he gives us is to be maintained with care and pride. Cutting it is like disobeying god. Look at our ancestors. The kings had long hairs. Even gods had long hairs. Look at Jesus, look at lord Krishna. All of them had long hairs. Do u know why people need to have long hairs?? In summer it protects us from the harmful ultraviolet radiation of the sun." (oh gr8, maybe this guy hasn’t heard about ozone layer)

When I was about to comment on that, out came his response.

“It has been scientifically proved”

Alright, mister science guy. I’ll keep quiet. You speak.

“Besides, You look like john Abraham if u get long hairs. Everyone has their own style of looking good. People should realize it. And the only way to realize it is to stand in front of a mirror and analyze yourself. Stand there for 1 hour and think about the styles that would look good on you. You should do that u know.”

Alright. I was flattered once. Let’s not bring John to discussion again. Can you please keep quiet??

After 30 seconds of silence……he noticed the page in my magazine which had a small pic of sachin tendulkar.
“You know one thing, this Sachin Tendulkar and all the seniors should be banned from playing cricket. They don’t know how to play. They should give way for youngsters. But they are soo selfish. Only Ganguly was graceful enough to do that”

Alright that does it. You abuse all the girls in this world and tell they are interested in you, I don’t give a damn. U preach the world about the importance of having long hairs, I don’t care. But tell a word of Sachin and You’ll have it from me.

“Even though Sachin is a senior, no one in this world bats, even today, like him. He plays like a enthusiastic kid even now. None of the critics can point a finger at him. He has been CONSISTANT through out. His records speak for him”, I said back rudely

“Everyone starts getting old after 30, even Sachin. The mind and body gets tired, people get old and they can’t perform. It has been scientifically proved”

Again things are scientifically proved. Right. i don’t have any issues with this freak. Let him speak what he wants. After all, Ignorance is not a crime. But he sensed I was not too happy with the Sachin episode coz he changed the topic fast.

“Do u want Pepsi?” he asked again after a 30 seconds of silence. “no” came my quick answer.

“Do u know what a gigolo is?? “

“Uh??” (not that I didn’t know)

“Male prostitutes. They are in much demand nowadays especially to foreigners. They pay well too. You are at Trivandrum right. You will get lots of tourists from kovalam. Lots of foreigners come to Trivandrum and Cochin. I have a flat at Cochin. My own flat. I have seen foreigners searching for gigolos outside my flat with my own eyes. If u want any help, u can call me. I’ll give u my number. And you got the looks for the job. It is easy money, u know, for students like yourself”

What the FUCK was he talking about. That I looked like third rate porn star?? I moved further away from him. Where was my wretched train? Why isn’t it coming? Why the hell am I talking to a nut who is apparently crazy?? What the hell did that guy think of me?? Easy money….eh… By the way, I was curious… How much will one get???

He didn’t have plans of leaving me to myself that night. He again came close, putting his hand on my shoulders as if I was his girlfriend. I held my laptop even tighter. What a freak he was..?? I ran down a list of possibilities of what this guy cud possibly be?? A thief (that means my laptop, my gold ring with a white pearl stone and 5000rs in my purse was at stake), a burgler (could he possible knock me down…no way…he was shorter and thinner than me), a gigolo himself (possible and I am not even looking at him), a love jihadi just as they mentioned in papers few days back (he had mentioned to me that he was a muslim and girls were his weakness; I remembered his words of having a goal in life and fulfillment of the same. He looked cute for a gal to fall for him if they r deaf though, no one can bear his talk) and last in the list, the biggest question of all…. was he A GAY???? I thought of his strange way of putting his hands on my shoulders, his crooked smile, the way he was offering his 22rs Pepsi to me, the way he came closer to me whenever I tried to move away, they way he suddenly became hurt when I said things back (sachin tendulkar case) and finally I forgot…..he had a piercing on his ears. Shit!! Y didn’t I notice it before?? Damn!!! I tried to concentrate which ears should the piercing be to understand his nature of interest. But in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t figure it out. Damn again! Was all this talk and friendliness an intimate act of ultimate male seduction?? Yuck!! And a further more furious thought….how dare he think I was gay too???

I got up. Enough is enough. I furnished a really unfriendly kind of smile at my new friend and said, “I got to check where my compartment is from the enquiry. Catch you later. “

And all he had to say back was “do you want Pepsi?”