Sometimes, when I have nothing to do, I catch a train and venture off alone to someplace around 1-2 hours from my home, towards the countryside. As the train passes through fields of paddy, swamps and bridges on rivulets, I feel an inner peace which I cannot describe in words.
Trains in India carry all kinds of people. another reason why I love travelling on them. You connect with the people, you understand who you really are, you identify your roots, your culture.
On one such journey, a visually impaired woman in her twenties boarded the train. She was selling incense sticks for a very meager price. Our compartment had around seven to ten passengers. Two of them bought a few sticks from her while the others ignored her. She, kept smiling. Then she sat down beside me, feeling and counting the money.
I was looking at her all this time when she asked, "Has the next station arrived?". As there was no one around, I replied, "Not yet. How much are those for?". "Ten rupees", she replied.
I bought two boxes, and in my curiosity, asked her how she sustains herself with such a low income.
"Oh no Sir, these incense sticks are my world. All the money I get, I use them to run my school. It is a small school, for children with visual and auditory disabilities. I teach them, I prepare food for them, I tend to them when they are ill. They have learnt how to make these sticks, they have learnt how to spell and draw. I sell what they make, and together we earn money. We are a family. I cannot think of anything apart from them. They are my life, these sticks are my life. What more can one want", she replied, smiling all the while.
I sat there, with wet eyes, thinking of all the luxury we enjoy and still crave for more, while people like her are happy with just the little kids and those thin sticks. She got up, thanked me and made her way slowly towards the exit.
From then, I was a changed person.
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