Shoes

It was a cold day and with nothing to do Shaila was awfully bored. Like migratory birds her friends had all traveled away for a little sun shine while she was stuck with her load of work. Her fingers kept tapping on the keyboard but her mind kept drifting away.

After work Shaila had loads of time as the next day was a weekend. On her way home she saw the word “SALE’ outside her mall and already her spirits seems to soar.

Her joy knew no bounds when the words SALE were posted right outside a shop store. Each pair of shoes spoke to Shaila a language only she understood. It called out to her to buy them and make them happy. They begged her to take them away from the misery of people’s stare; some of contempt on seeing the price tag and some of longing.

Shaila only too obliged to buy a pair of stilettos. The studded footwear made her heart jump with joy. Only an evil ogre stood in her way, the Salesman. He kept insisting that the shoe was not right for her. Must be the first salesman in the world who kept insisting on not selling. He seemed more worried of safeguarding her bank balance.

Shaila was adamant; the shoes had called out to her. Like the pride of a new mother, she bought the shoes only to hear whispers that “What a girl on a wheel chair legs do with such beautiful shoes”. Shaila was in no mood to spar words with the gossipers. She loved shoes and even though she could not wear them, the joy they brought more than made up for the mindless gossip.

Bombay Local

n my course of learning to swim I have to commute in a train on a daily basis. Mumbai trains as known to all are always very crowded. An empty train during the rush hour is a novelty. Anyways my story is about my train journey.

This was on last Tuesday, when after loads of running like a heroine running away from the villain I managed to board the local train. I was literally hanging out and the train moved. I was trying to accommodate my large self including my poor little haversack when a girl no more than 20 gives me a stare. I ignore it thinking it happens. And then she does the cardinal mistake of telling me not to push. I was already exhausted with my marathon run and then this girl throws attitude. I give her a piece of mind and say I am surrounded by a sea of people who are pushing. That was the last I heard her peep from her.

Usually I am not such a terror but I guess the girl’s attitude asked for it.
Sometime later, another lady walks in, she is trying to push her way through. But all efforts were in vain at that very moment as another lady with a child was trying to move out. (This kind of pushing is in full force when a station is approaching.) Obliviously I hear another set of fireworks begin on the pushing.
And then the child starts crying,

The ladies forget their fighting and are now cooing to the child to be quiet. I am not sure whose tone was louder but it was great to see the warring ladies put down their gears. The ladies managed to move from each others sides quite comfortably. I think all were scared of the kid.

The reason I quoted this incident is that even in our discomfort the daily travellers do not forget the important things. That’s what’s beautiful about the Bombay trains.