there were riots on platform one, the train was headed to darbhanga.
and a hush(almost) on platform two, the train headed to trivandrum.
two civilisations jostled for space on that one platform.
and george checked each garbage bin on that very very long platform.
he needed to get to the end of the train, the one where people walk in politely, imagine that they alone will occupy that berth they have paid for, and see no need to scream at the foe at their elbow and the friend at the other end of the platform.
but he walks through that part of the platform where they scream at the foe at the elbow and to the friend at the other end, where they know that the berth assigned to them will have to be fought for like its the last remaining thing on earth.
he deposits his parents' suitcase where it needs to be and realises that his spectacles have fallen from his pocket...on platform one.
we walk back that long long platform, on the side where the police wield lathis and randomly hit out, sometimes for sport, sometimes in self defense, sometimes to ensure that the 18 people stuffed at the door dont spill out.
i roll my eyes. he scours the floor for his spectacles. and then peeps into EACH AND EVERY DUST BIN, just in case someone dropped it in for safe custody? or to keep the platform clean?