Train Trolls

As you may have come to know, I am not really the type to travel a lot, with the major part of my commuting being done between the kitchen, toilet, and the musty old room where I store my mridangam. So you will be just as surprised as I was, when I found myself shoving through crowds at Chennai's iconic Central Station. This was my first time in this station, with all my previous railway adventures having taken place via Egmore (Rockfort Express to Trichy and back over ten times). 

I got aboard the Kaveri Express that would take me through the 500 Km (approx) to Mysore in the mind-numbingly quick time of 9 hours. 

(Do the math. You get around 55 Kph. I have seen Ambassador Cars clock quicker pace.)

I fought my way to my seat, and having occupied it, (with a triumphant smirk) I proceeded to put my bag deep under my seat. While immersed in this task, I felt a mammoth force on my rear, as I tumbled forward, Newton's Second Law proving that the path of a heavy suitcase in motion cannot be stopped by me, without engaging the use of plenty of pain neurons. 

I got up, dusted myself off and shouted profanity in Tamil, then I turned and looked at who the offender in question was. It was a Hulking Sardar Gentleman with a moustache capable of serving as a hiding place for many of the most wanted men on earth. The situation demanded quick thinking on my part, and the conversation that followed is transcribed below:

Me (after receiving the aforementioned impulsive force)

Paathu poda, Kabothi!

(translation: Watch where you're going, you <obscene word for blind person>)

HSG: Oye, Kya bola tumne? What did you say? Huh?

Me (with blood draining out of my face, preparing to meet my maker): I said that you must be from the punjabi district of Kabothi, nothing else. 

HSG (trying to process my words for signs of Sarcasm or untruths, his three brain cells working overtime): Uh, no no puttar, I am form Amritsar, mein chaloonga, I go, I go, ...

After that mishap, I finally found myself talking to the guy opposite me. Interesting chap, he is a Chemical engineer from IIT-M, and was going to Mysore for a wedding. He had a nervous bladder, and kept frequenting the restroom.  

(Don't get me started on bathrooms on trains, I feel that auspicious topic deserves a post of it's own.)

I fell asleep and was awoken by the most hilarious dream I have ever had. 

A group of three engineers, all of them Ambis, (Ambi=Orthodox Tamilian, usually from Triplicane or West Mambalam), were on a train, going to a conference. They started chatting with a group of Amit engineers, who were going to the same conference. (Amit=narrow minded North Indian who moves to Chennai and complains that no one talks Hindi). 

During the conversation, the Ambis revealed that the three of them had only bought one ticket. When asked how they were planning to escape the ticket collector, they said, "Watch and learn." 

Just before the ticket collector got there, the three Ambis went into a bathroom. The collector knocked on the door and politely said, "Ticket please," and a single hand outstretched and gave him the same. 

The Amits were mighty impressed, and decided to adopt the same strategy for the return journey. This time, however, the Ambis got on ticketless. When asked how they were going to manage, they said, "Watch and learn."

So there they were, the three Ambis in one bathroom, and the three Amits in the opposite one. Shortly before the ticket collector got there, one of the Ambis (yes, it was yours truly) went to the Amit bathroom, knocked on the door, and politely said, "Ticket please."