On the contrary: Samsonite & the art of maintenance

Travel, they say, broadens one's horizons and waistline while trimming one's wallet. Train journeys offer more scope for aggravation since they last much longer than flights. This is not an elitist observation; the elite can be just as irritating as the hoi polloi but since most internal flights rarely last more than an hour, the potential for air rage is less. One is able to bear the prospect of spilt orange juice and being jostled off the armrest with a "this-too-shall-pass equanimity.

On a train journey, however, Einstein's theory of relativity becomes all too clear. Time stands still and mild-mannered men lumped with irritating travelling companions often contemplate mayhem with mustard, make that relish. One hears that maintenance standards on the railways have deteriorated but this is not such a bad thing since if it weren't for a faulty knob…It all happened on a train journey where I was seated next to a prissy little man with a large suitcase; the term is employed artistically since the item in question was built like a steamer trunk, rather like the portmanteaus that wealthy dowagers took on ocean voyages to the Vilayat.

Laila's ardour for Majnu was mere infatuation compared to old Samson's passion for his Samsonite, which he had thoughtfully placed across both our seats. 'Shall we exchange the seat, saar', he bawled which I grimly refused. Peeved by my response he moved to the window, making futile attempts to chat with the large retinue who had come to see him off. "He is not wanting exchange," he mouthed, through the thick panes of glass separating them. His well-wishers kept making inarticulate gestures of goodwill back at him, while glaring reproachfully at me, or so I imagined.

I was impressed by the number of friends and relatives who had come to see Samson off and it was only later that the penny dropped. What I had foolishly taken to be tearful farewell was actually tremendous relief. His near and dear were taking no chances: they were present to ensure the obsessive- compulsive old fart didn't do anything silly like missing the train.

Attempting to get to my seat, I wrestled briefly with the case which had medical.com emblazoned on the side whereupon Samson bid the assembled throng goodbye and assumed the missionary position. He slid his left leg tentatively along one side and repeating the process with his right, hunched protectively forward over the case, looking like a Tamilian version of Mr. Bean. Given its proportions, this resulted in his thighs being spread to the eastern and western limits of the compass: a vulnerable position for a man of any age. On one side his knobby knee poked sharply into my thigh while his left foot was splayed over my footrest leaving me squashed against the window. To his left, the passenger occupying the aisle bore the burden of his right foot with a resigned expression. 

Occasionally he would run his hands over the suitcase in the manner of a sultan stroking the fleshy contours of his favourite courtesan. Our pleas to store the wretched thing at the rear end of the compartment fell on deaf ears. His manner implied that it was as sacrilegious as suggesting divorce while on honeymoon. What would happen if he forgot to collect it when disembarking, he demanded belligerently. Given their level of intimacy, I thought it unlikely: does Trump forget to tweet? But nemesis, in the form of sloppy maintenance, was at hand.Reclining seats have a tendency to malfunction and so it was with the one directly in front of our baggage lover.

Its occupant, having jiggled the knob controlling the inclination of his seat finally lost patience and gave it a sharp thump. With a ghastly, rending crack, the seat and its startled occupant flew backwards at roughly the speed of sound.  "Ooh," moaned Samson in a shrill soprano, clutching convulsively at his family jewels. I should mention he was 'taking' coffee at the time. Suffice it to say it wasn't a pretty sight, but had the salutary effect of separating the lovers. The attendant wheeled the case away to the rear of the carriage and the mystery of medical.com solved: it had done duty at both medical and commerce colleges. One hopes the railways are vigilant about fishplates and unattended baggage while taking a more relaxed approach to reclining seats. Let's hear it for falling standards on Indian Railways.