Ashok and Jatin are standing at the New Jalpaiguri Station with their luggage. It is 10 PM. The train was supposed to arrive at 8. The train is delayed. Tomorrow morning, they are supposed to reach Kolkata and head to their offices.
Jatin, fidgeting, said, "See our bad luck. The train still hasn’t arrived. How will we manage to go to the office tomorrow? Sitting in this jeep all through the storm, my body aches all over."
Ashok sat on a bench with the luggage. Meanwhile, Jatin was walking from one end of the platform to the other. In the evening, the two friends had returned from a trip to Gangtok at New Jalpaiguri Station. The two friends often go on such short trips when they get three or four days off. This trip had not gone well at all. There was heavy rain in Sikkim. Landslides on the road. They didn’t sleep well last night. They had left Gangtok early in the morning, but landslides on the mountain line caused them to be delayed in reaching the station. Now, they could barely stand up.
Jatin came and stood next to Ashok and said, "Bro, I’m just going to sleep as soon as I get on the train. I’m so tired. And I’m out of fuel."
Their food hadn’t been great either. Ashok, by nature, is a calm and composed person. He comforted Jatin and said, "What else can we do? Just have a little patience. Our train is already showing on the display. It will arrive any moment."
Just then, they heard the announcement for their designated train over the loudspeaker. Before the train stopped, the two friends had figured out where their coach was and stood waiting on a spot on the platform.
Ashok told Jatin, "We need to get on quickly. The train will only stop here for five minutes."
Exactly two hours and ten minutes late, the train arrived at the platform. In the crowded area, they could see that their B-1 coach had stopped quite a bit further down. Jatin didn’t even notice it. He started running.
Ashok called out to him, "Hey! Come over here with me." Meanwhile, Jatin’s trolley bag handle broke. He grumbled in frustration, "Damn, my luck is terrible today. Everything is just out to get me." While complaining, he picked up the luggage and ran after Ashok.
Breathless, the two of them managed to get their luggage into the B-1 coach door. Amidst the rush of passengers boarding and disembarking, the two of them squeezed in. They had reserved sleeper class tickets. Ashok took the upper berth, and Jatin got the lower berth. Ashok calculated that there should be another passenger in the seat, but only the two of them were there. It looked like an elderly couple, possibly traveling from an earlier station. The woman had her face covered with a veil. The man looked to be over fifty, quite plump and enjoying his comfort. The elderly man sat on the window seat, comfortably resting his legs while wearing a lungi and a fatua.
Ashok politely said, "This seat is reserved for the two of us."
Immediately, the gentleman spoke up, "Please sit, please sit. My seat is the middle berth. This is my wife. We are on an urgent trip to Kolkata. I couldn’t get her a ticket, you see."
Ashok said, "Oh! Then how will you travel if the TT (ticket collector) comes?"
The gentleman gave a smile and replied, "We’ll see about that. I’m already in trouble. There’s nothing more I can do."
Seeing the elderly man, Ashok didn’t say anything further. Jatin was about to say something, but Ashok stopped him by holding his hand. However, Jatin, irritated and frustrated, blurted out, "So, how am I supposed to sleep?"
The gentleman spoke very politely, "It won’t cause you any trouble. I’ll have my wife sit in the middle berth, and I’ll sit under your feet. And your height isn’t that much, so it’ll work out fine for me." Hearing this, Jatin became even more upset. It was almost as if a faint chuckle escaped from the woman behind the veil.
Jatin, although a bit short, always got very upset if anyone commented on his height. Anyway, today he didn’t have the energy to argue. He forced a fake smile and endured the situation. Besides, the man seemed rather polite, so there was no point in saying anything more. The gentleman then took out a lunchbox and started eating. At one point, he offered to Ashok and Jatin, "Please try this. It’s my wife’s palm sugar sandesh. It’s quite delicious."
Although both Ashok and Jatin were hungry, they politely declined, feeling a bit awkward. Jatin even stretched his hand towards the box but stopped when he saw Ashok’s refusal.
Meanwhile, they had tied their luggage with a chain. The train’s dinner service had ended, and other passengers were preparing to sleep. Ashok, unable to sit any longer due to exhaustion, went to the upper berth. His body had taken a toll, and he fell asleep. Jatin, poor guy, was left sitting. Reluctantly, he asked, "Brother, how much longer? Please move her to the middle berth. If not, I’ll leave."
The gentleman, with a pleading tone, said, "I’m in trouble, please bear with me for a little longer. When the TT comes, everything will be sorted."
As he was speaking, the TT arrived. The couple seemed quite experienced with these situations. As soon as the TT came into view, the wife went to the bathroom as if signaling with gestures. She was gone for almost ten minutes. While the TT was around, no one could see her. Thankfully, the TT soon left, and everything seemed fine. The lady came back, and the gentleman smiled, saying, "Thank God, I’m safe this time. Would you like to go to the bathroom? Go ahead, I’ll make sure everything is arranged. I’ll get everything in order."
Jatin thought to himself, "Well, that couple certainly knows the tricks. They must often travel like this." Deciding not to worry about it, Jatin thought that now he could finally rest his body. He went to the bathroom to freshen up.
"What’s going on here? Hey, get up! What are you doing?"
Suddenly, Jatin’s loud voice made Ashok peek from the upper berth. When Jatin returned from the bathroom, he saw that the gentleman had moved his wife to the middle berth and was now comfortably stretched out on the lower berth, wrapped in a blanket, sound asleep. His large belly was practically spilling out from the seat. The lights in the train were turned off, and the whole compartment was quiet. Hearing the noise, a fellow passenger from the adjacent seat said, "Hey, why are you shouting? Don’t argue here. Please settle this amongst yourselves."
The gentleman’s wife suddenly started yelling something sharply. Hearing her loud voice, Jatin felt a bit taken aback. He knew arguing with women on public transport could be extremely risky.
Jatin stood there helplessly. What could he do now? Where would he find the TT at this hour? His patience was running out. Jatin muttered, "Ashok, did you see this guy’s nerve?" Grumbling angrily, he added, "This is why one should never try to help anyone."
From under the blanket, the gentleman retorted, "Haven’t you learned to respect your elders?"
Jatin snapped, "You’re occupying my seat, sir. Don’t you feel any shame?"
The gentleman responded again, "Does your name happen to be written on this seat, sir?"
Jatin retorted, "Oh, for heaven’s sake! I have a ticket for this seat!"
To which the gentleman replied, "Well, your ticket doesn’t have your name on this seat either!"
Ashok, trying to calm the situation, said, "Friend, why don’t you come to the upper berth? I’ll sit down below."
This wounded Jatin’s pride. He wasn’t one to back down. "No, no, that’s not necessary. I’ll handle it," he said, seating himself near the gentleman’s feet, utterly defeated, embarrassed, and unsure of what to do next. But he had no other choice. He felt so frustrated that he was on the verge of tears.
Meanwhile, the gentleman started snoring. His wife joined in, and the two took turns snoring. If the man had been younger, Jatin might have gotten into a scuffle with him right there. Jatin had a habit of resorting to fights in such situations. In anger, he nudged the gentleman’s feet, trying to make some room for himself. However, the man stretched his legs straight, almost knocking Jatin off the seat.
To make matters worse, the middle of the night brought a fresh ordeal. The man began releasing gas, and the noise and stench rivaled the intensity of atomic bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The room’s air quality deteriorated dramatically. Watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the man’s belly reminded Jatin of the exaggerated belly movements of the "pishima" (aunt) characters from comic books like Nonte-Fonte.
Occasionally, the faint aroma of palm sugar sweets wafted to Jatin’s nose. Unable to endure anymore, Jatin went to sit near the train door. He figured he’d have to spend the rest of the night there. The man and his wife continued to sleep soundly, snoring away, comfortably occupying both berths until the train finally reached Sealdah station.
As the train pulled in, Jatin was more eager than ever to get off. With his luggage in hand, he stood near the door, waiting impatiently. As soon as the train stopped, he began urging Ashok, "Come on, let’s go quickly. Hurry up!"
Startled by Jatin’s urgency, Ashok also got off the train quickly. In the crowded platform, Jatin was striding ahead with Ashok following behind.
Suddenly, Ashok noticed something strange—Jatin was carrying his luggage under one arm and a pair of sports shoes in the other.
Perplexed, Ashok asked, "Hey, why are you holding your shoes? Whose sandals are you wearing? These look like expensive pure leather ones!"
Jatin, grinning triumphantly, replied, "I’m wearing that guy’s sandals! Now he’ll get a taste of his own medicine. I gave him his punishment for last night’s sins!" He laughed heartily, adding, "Come on, let’s hurry and leave the station."
Jatin walked briskly, and Ashok glanced back to see their fellow passenger—the hefty gentleman—hobbling barefoot on the scorching platform, his belly wobbling like a pot, while his wife struggled to carry all their luggage. Her veil had slipped off her head.
Ashok, who had been in a foul mood until now, felt a sense of poetic justice. After a night of luxury at Jatin’s expense, the man was now reduced to hopping around barefoot. Smirking, Ashok couldn’t help but chuckle as he followed Jatin out of the station.