A train journey

Our school party - 80 of us adults and children, were to go to Kerala by train recently. The route was one we had never been on - it was all along the Konkan coast. In fact, this rail route was created entirely by Indians in independent India. There was great excitement, because we realized that we would get to see a part of the country that we had never seen. Also, we would be travelling in a train after a very long time. We were to board the Netravati Express, Bombay to Trivandrum, at a place called Chiplun, about 4 hours from Panchgani. By the time we reached Chiplun, we felt that we were on an adventure! Impatiently we waited for the train, and at last it came - a little late. We were booked in the 2nd class, 3-tier sleeper coach. With great enthusiasm we boarded the train, but here we had our first disappointment - the compartment was quite dirty. Even though the train had started from Bombay which was just a few hours from Chiplun, it was obvious that the compartment had not been cleaned before the train left Bombay. The berths were dusty, the window panes were smudgy, and the window sills and floor were positively grimy. The bathroom too had not been cleaned. Anyway, our enthusiasm and excitement carried us over this hurdle and we managed to make ourselves comfortable. Lots to learn from children - they immediately got down to playing games and listening to music, cutting out, as it were, the squalor of the environment in which they found themselves. As adults, though, we felt bad that this was the kind of deal the kids got, because having seen and experienced this kind of indifference and dirtiness, what kind of standards would be getting formed in their young minds? what kind of standards were we teaching them to accept? To our utter dismay, we realized that this was only the first day-there was so much of the journey left---. Soon it was time for a meal, and though we were served our food in aluminium foil containers, there was no bin to throw the containers after we had finished. We saw that others were throwing their containers out of the window. Though we had taken bottled water with us, we saw that there was no place to discard the empty bottles either. Fortunately, our tour operator gave us a cardboard container to throw our empty food containers and bottles. But what of the other passengers? They were throwing their containers and packets out of the window. Mind you we were going through some very, very beautiful countryside. Not to mention the engineering feat that had created this railway route. Tunnels through the Western Ghats, misty mountains all around us, rain-drenched rice fields, forests, lakes - absolutely gorgeous - . The discomfort of unclean surroundings continued through the night. At one point the fans stopped working, and then when that was repaired, the lights wouldn't go off. It was so difficult to even close the eyes, till a kind soul taped some newspaper on top of the light so that the glare at least was cut off. The stations too were so dirty - and unclean. Why? Why? Why? what have we reduced ourselves to as a people? I cannot subscribe to the theory of 'adjust' or 'we are like that only' or 'what to do' - we need not 'adjust' or be 'like that only' or not do anything--there is a lot we can do. And we make all kinds of claims about ourselves as Indians--that we belong to an old civilization, that we are a tolerant people, that cleanliness is godliness, that we have a great heritage and culture etc etc etc. What has happened to us that we have no standards at all, forget about high standards, that we have no personal pride, forget about national pride, that we don't care about how our children are growing up, forget about the rest of the people of our country, that actually we are a sub-culture, forget about old culture, that we have no self-respect, forget respect for the world that God has created, that we are intolerant of our different-from-us-neighbour forget tolerance for all mankind, that we cannot look beyond our nose, forget about the next generation, that we shout from the rooftops about our rich legacy, but to hell with the legacy that we are creating, that we have great ideals, of great men, but do not live by any ideals at all? Just where are we headed? That train journey really brought home many uncomfortable facts about ourselves as a people and our country. Truly, what India are we creating for the generations to come?

Communication

This is something which comes home to me again and again - the importance of communication. And yet, this is such a hard thing to do, because there are shades and shades of communication. Communication varies from relationship to relationship, and it is important to know the difference between different relationships. Of course the ground rule is that communication should be direct, clear and complete. Any kind of ambiguity or leaving things unsaid, can cause huge misunderstandings, and even pain. Tone matters too, because the best communication in the world can get spoilt if the tone is not right - and tone depends on feelings. Which means that the feelings have to be right. The thinking has to be right. Which goes back to the indisputable fact that there has to be total conjunction between mind and heart. if there is a difference in their alignment, the communication comes across as false and maybe painful.

However, what I wanted to share was the communication of the pilot of the Spice Jet plane we travelled in from Bombay to Calcutta. Captain Paulson was the commander of the plane. During the flight he communicated with the passengers--telling us about the height at which the plane was flying, etc-----the usual announcements that a pilot makes. Only, Captain Paulson's announcements were clear, and distinct. He made the experience of flying real and he made the passengers feel good for having chosen Spice Jet. The only other pilot I can remember who had the same effect was Captain Bobby of an Air Lanka flight that we had been on many years ago from Muscat to Madras via Colombo. They might have been doing their job, but they did it in a manner that it made a difference....

Of course at times, it would be better not to communicate--to just be silent. If another heart hears the heartbeat of that silence, it makes for a wonderfully warm feeling. If that doesn't happen, if another cannot hear your heartbeat, let the silence cover the hurt and heal from within. As someone once told me long years ago, words can create wounds that take ages to heal and often leave painful scars, unlike broken bones that can be set right away.