Life in a Crowded Metro

My daily routine on weekdays and sometimes on weekends or holidays is to head over to the Metro station (Kavi Nazrul or Kav Naz for short) and board a train. It's the easiest way to get from deep South Calcutta to Central or North Calcutta where my college is. On most days the crowds are insanse and yesterday was not an exception. I had a semester exam in the afternoon and it was dusk by the time I'd  wrapped up my paper and was on the train back home. The funny thing is, I wasn't aware that the entire atmosphere of the bogey I was in was going to change in a matter of a few stations. 

The story began when a family got on the train from the Park Street station. It was six in the evening and the office goers were with us on the train, resulting in it being packed to the rafters. This family comprised of a man, a woman who was carrying her infant son on her shoulder. The father had an emergency bag with him. I was standing near the door and I quickly made way and signalled to the nearest row of seats asking someone to get up and allow the mother and child to take a seat. Someone else offered to hold the emergency bag too so that the father could stand properly. Unfortunately, since there was so much noise, what with the PA system announcing the next station and the wind in the tunnel causing a racket that the kid (who was about 2) was scared out of his wits and would not stop crying. He kept wanting to go to his father and then came back to his mother, just as inconsolable as before. 

I have no clue what made me think of it, but I knelt down in front of the kid and managed to get his attention by singing "Ob-La-Di-Di-Bla-Da" by The Beatles very softly. I also clapped my hands a bit, so his attention would stay focused on me. By this time, I had a bit of an audience and some people in the bogey knew the song too. They joined in and I think it worked because the kid stopped crying, and instead looked at me like I was from another planet. I suppose with my unkempt long hair and sweat streaked face, I did look a bit scary. 

Finally, when the train was pulling into Mahanayak Uttam Kumar (the Tollygunge station), the kid had stopped crying, taken a sip of water and gone to sleep on his mother's shoulder. 

I got off the Metro at Kavi Nazrul and climbed down the stairs, just like I did everyday. But yesterday, I kept thinking of my mother singing me "Ob-La-Di-Di-Bla-Da" among other songs to help me sleep when I was little. 

I guess nursery rhymes and bedtime stories aren't just for infants! 

The Bilge Master