Figment of reality

The moment a train drags itself to a halt, the passion (for lack of better word) exhibited by passengers is worth a dekko. Civility is the last thing on the menu as the animal instincts take over. Wait, can animals stoop this low? Once the commuters get in, the struggle is to find the space to stand—if not a seat to sit on. This often leads to trivial arguments about that imaginary fourth seat guaranteed by the railway department. Some passengers budge and let the fourth guy sit on the edge of the bench while others don't. Nevertheless, this results into interesting conversations. In one such confrontation, "Baatne se pyaar badhta hai" was replied with "Lekin jagah kam hoti hai." Indeed.

Blinded by tears

Overcome by pity, she handed out a note from her purse. The blind old man was expecting a coin or two but the smile on his face suggested that he liked what his fingers felt. In superbusy cities like Bombay, one often find himself/herself expecting a change in themselves by handing out some change to beggars. Our lady in question too was one of the many in action. [What people don't realise is begging is a business, bordering on extreme professionalism. Very few beggars function on an individual level, thus further dividing the profit share. As a result, syndicates profit from random sympathy while the beggars seldom manage to pull themselves out of this decaying vortex. In other words, they'll remain on the streets while you'll go home feeling better about yourself.] It was only later at night that she realised that she had given him a Rs 500 bill instead of the intended a tenner. She couldn't help laugh at the irony of being emotionally blind and prayed he took some days off.