A gloomy wet evening when time has come to a complete standstill, wet platforms, winds smelling fresh from the just concluded downpour, frenzied passengers anxious to board, and once trains storm past, it is an absolute full stop.  Quietness prevails on the long deserted platform….no trace of anything whatsoever. And it is a scary solitude mind you. Because our railway platforms are usually so much action packed, that this bout of quietness gets really edgy.

With a late night train to catch, we are perched up on one of the benches, pointlessly piercing our eyes every now and then into our respective watches, all in vein. With no announcements, and no sign of our expected train, with electricity playing spoilt sport every five minutes, this whole “waiting” thing is getting all the more unnerving.

And then, from behind a dark, dull, sultry corner emerge these chaps. Two of them—talking aloud, joking, chatting, making their presence felt…..it is as if their day is about to get kicked started.

One of them is pulling a handcart—having one large utensil, a couple of small containers, a robust kettle, and a never ending chain of white paper cups! Their paraphernalia itself tells their story.

Hard work is what they do; patience is what they breathe; and then mind does stop once to ask oneself, how much must they be earning at the end of (beginning for them) another working day? Could it be enough for them to save for an unknown tomorrow?

As soon as the cart puller halts his cart at one particular place to start preparing the steaming cups of tea, he looks down and sees a really unclean platform. Quickly he instructs his co-helper to get him a broom, and then he himself gets to work; cleaning the dirty mess which those uncivil and carefree travellers have left behind.

Just then his co-helper comes up to him and tries to tell him some episode that happened the day before, when he had gone by the train window of a halted passenger train, to serve tea. Some traveler lady was about to enter into a brawl with this co-helper, because she suspected that he was trying to act over- smart by not returning her money/ change. Whereas his side of the story was that he didn’t carry change, and he had asked her to wait just a few more seconds so that he could return her change in a while; after he’d get it from another customer in the same compartment.

Then he narrated another happening. He told the chaiwalla that three days back, on aboard a late evening passenger train, a man ordered two cups of tea. Since his son was sitting by the window, he passed on the money to him to give it to the co-helper. Our co-helper quietly took the change; but in the meantime this man got up and rowdily started blaming the co-helper that he had his eyes on the gold bracelet worn by his son.  The co-helper tried to defend himself, but the man was solid rock. He didn’t budge, and thus paid him just Rs 2/- for the three cups of tea which the father-son duo had consumed.

The chaiwallah patiently listens to his co-helper’s narrations, and quietly asks him to rotate his turns, which would mean that alternate days the co-helper would make tea, and this other guy would serve it. He also gives him a “let it be” kind of glance; pats on his back thrice and asks him to move on digging the past events behind.

His approach is terrific. He has seen this all; because he has been here for long; he knows it all; he has been on the job; and he has the kind of hands on experience which our fragile co-helper perhaps lacks. The kind of knowledge of human judgment which our chaiwallah possesses is so true.

Amidst all this, the platform now looks slightly better off; one could now see travelers coming in for the same late night train that we were waiting for.

A few of them walk up to our tea vendor and order 1,2,3 cups of refreshing tea. And there are a few who just walk up to him to ask him where their so and so, so and so bogie/ coach would wait….He quietly and confidently answers their queries, playing the role of the missing station manager!……and he knows that these bunch of travelers who have just asked him their respective coach numbers will not be ordering any tea. He knows from the beginning that they are not his potential customers. Yet he does not complain. The queries of these few travelers make the co-helper irritable. But our chaiwallah is patient. After all, for him, it is Just another day…

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