After MoshMania, we stood in the nearby bus stop for 45 mins before the bus came. It was 459, the same one which we had taken to get there. The conductor mumbled inconherency while we gave him the money. To the passengers’ surprise the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere at a stop called “Yash Coach”. Had to take a rickshaw, with a broken meter, about which the driver revealed only after we reached Jogeshwari Station. After haggling and abusing him and giving him Rs.5 extra, caught a train to dadar. It’s not because of all these troubles that I am posting this. So what then?
hmm…reached Dadar. With all the headbanging and waiting my legs where killing me. I stumbled in. Looked around. It was jam packed. But then to my utter surprise I saw a completely empty row. My first thought was that the seats might be dirty, ..but then they looked clean enough. I asked a guy what was it all about. He pointed in the direction between the benches on the floor. When I took a glance there was this tramp lying there with just a shirt. Just a shirt. It was a very quick glance and I thought wtf, i’ll just look in the other direction. And I went and sat on the other side near the window. The people who were standing were staring at me either with jealousy for getting to sit or with loathing for being so insensitive. I stared them back. Out of morbid curiousity I decided to take one more look at the tramp. Then I saw his legs. They were covered with festering wounds, with blood and pus oozing. For rest of the journey I kept my eyes safely pointed out the window.
Suddenly I was really sad. Many stray dog’s manage to find adopting families. If someone finds a wounded animal they can call Maneka Gandhi. Why isn’t there a number where I can call now. Why didn’t the people do something………..
But then I was one of them.