Often at “Crossroads”!!!
To most of us, long-distance travel by train in India calls for immediate attention to fulfilling one’s appetite for the journey. And proudly let me proclaim, I AM NO EXCEPTION. The first inquisitiveness on the diversity of other states starts with food. So here I was so worried if I would get food at all times in all probable stations. I didn’t want to take the risk of missing food at a particular station in case I dozed off. The best part was that I was traveling with my friend, and I could have counted on her to buy some lip-smacking food at various stations. But here came the problem. The probability that she is awake is almost zero compared to me.
So to resolve the biggest problem I could ever face in trains, i.e me going hungry, I booked two tickets from Delhi to Bangalore in Rajdhani Express. The Indian government had sensed my problem even before my birth back in 1969. So with a big smile thanking our government, I was all ready to board my train. The train’s departure was at 20:45, I and my friend boarded the train at sharp 20:45 hours (We are very punctual!). Once on the train, we could hardly breathe. Rajdhani was jam-packed. Had to stuff our luggage under the seats and by the time we both settled, guess what my stomach was empty and it demanded FOOD. Hardly had I confessed this to my staring friend that a kind-looking rather a tensed servitor (waiter) came with hot trays of food asking our preference of veg/non-veg.
One might wonder why the servitor was tensed. The reason is simple. He was about to serve food to the hundreds in train for the next 28 hours who came from all parts of the country. We Indians come from all parts of the country with all kinds of different food styles and habits. But now that we have paid for our food the servitors are supposed to serve foods that satisfy our taste buds significantly. Some like their food spicy others mild. Some want it rich with ghee others strict NO for any kind of fat. Some want their food burning hot while others prefer moderate temperature. The list goes on. And our poor servitor has no option but to satisfy all our demands. Hell! haven’t we paid for this?
So our servitor for that journey was all prepared. I thoroughly enjoyed my food and also the remains from my friend’s share and happily got ready to sleep. Suddenly the elderly couple opposite our seat called the servitor and asked him to give an extra glass of hot soup. He did so obligingly. The next morning the servitor was back again around 06:00 hours. His job is not only to serve us food but also to wake us up. So now he is even more tensed. He is going to start his day with scorns and grunts from most of the passengers. Either he is shooed away for waking us up or he is scolded for not serving hot coffee at exactly the time you wake up. Hell!!! haven’t we paid for this???? We might wake up at any time but we must be served with hot coffee at exactly the precise temperature we want.
The day goes on with people asking extra hot food or coffee or water. The servitor keeps on running the length of the train serving passengers with the hope that he would be paid a small tip at the end of the journey at least by a few of us folks. Late in the night, all the servitors retire to their cozy beds on the floor just outside the bathrooms! They sleep with very tense faces. Because they might me screamed upon for sleeping outside bathrooms and not giving sufficient space for us to walk. The next day morning just before we reach Bangalore the respective servitors came with a sheet of paper asking us to fill the feedback for their service and quality of food.
Immediately the elderly person opposite us tore the paper and threw it saying the paper was of no use and that he will not give his feedback. The servitors usually ask tips for their service. The elderly man again refused. A young couple handed some money to the servitor. And they ended up getting a big lecture on why we should not give feedback and tip to the servitors. The elderly man said that food managers travel on the train and they must regularly check the quality and service of food and they should get the feedback instead of sending the servitors with the form. The elderly man asked that we don’t question all this and that’s why India doesn’t improve.
This got me into thinking. Should I now worry about food managers doing their duty and thus help India improve (I don’t know in what way it will) or should I worry about the small tip that might help the tensed servitor in a small way? I didn’t have a day time to decide. So what I did was to give a small tip to the servitor and see a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The reason I did this was simple: I didn’t have the guts of going and knocking the door of the food manager and hammer work ethics into him. I didn’t have the time to think about how my giving the tip to the servitor is not going to help India improve. All I had time was to think about why we always hit or trouble or show power to the people not as strong as us. All that mattered to me at that time was to see some relief in the tensed face of the servitor.
