5.00 in the morning. Bone-chilling cold. She stood forlorn and alone on the railway station. Stood with her daughter and the TTE. Looking up at me as I ambled with glee towards her, she looked up to say, "My luggage was stolen on the train." I didn't know what to say.
So we all made our way to the Railway police station to file a report about the lost suitcase. There wasn't much to report. Fortunately, no cash or jewelry had been taken. Only brand new sets of clothes to be handed over to various relatives. And some trinkets for friends.
The cops lived up to their red-tape image. The train had passed through three states. Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka. Somewhere along the way, the thief had dis-embarked taking her suitcase with her. Bastard. And the cops were more intent on figuring out when she last saw her box? How come she woke up when she did? Was she sure it was gone? Did she know where the thief had disembarked?
Finally, we filled in all the necessary details and left the station together. She seemed upset. Naturally. So I put my hand around her to console her, telling her that a few clothes were not worth feeling so low about. She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said, "You know, I have been travelling for close to 30 years now. And this is the first time this has happened!"
Poor Mom.
BCBC
I was getting a little bored of 'Swamp exhalations'. In fact, things had become just that. Cribs, sulks, gripes and the like, on and on and on with some genuine depression thrown in once in a while. But hey! Life means more! And BCBC. So I guess, from now on, I'll just grin and get on with it.
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