The man who was scratching his crotch

Trains as i have told before are a fascinating place where you meet people from the various walks of life. Lesser the class more is the fun, more is the variety. This time I was again travelling by sleeper class from calcutta, sorry Kolkota to puri by the night train when I met this man, he remains nameless because truthfully i dont remember his name, even if I remebered i would have hesistated to put his name because he remains the most disgusting man I met in my life.

He was disgusting not because he was constantly scratching his crotch, not at all because of that, for I have stayed in an Hostel where taking bath is a rarity and a luxury that you indulge in when you have nothing else to do or your teachers have warned you of dire consequences. So the constant scratching never bothered me, Let me not deviate from the story and I will tell you about the person.

The train I was supposed to take came around a hour late, nothing to be surprised about, trains sometimes do come earlier than expected. I clambered along with my luggage with my cousin tagging along. I sat at my seat, a side lower seat which I mostly prefer when suddenly some loud music hit my ears, the music was exceedingly loud and was overshadowing the words. I turned around and saw this man dressed in a clean green formal shirt and some cream colored trousers, the hair was well kempt and he looked neat in appearance and he was giving me a stare, i just nodded and continued to chat with my cousin in oriya.

The train meanwhile was chugging along, people had started getting ready for sleep, and I was reclined on my seat when this guy sat near my seat and we started the chit chat beginning with politics, the normal way of beggining a conversation. The person was a contractor of sorts, a middle man, a dalal in hindi but his anecdots were fascinating, I had never met such a person and I was listening in fascination and my cousin was hanging on to each word of his. The loud music was forgotten and he was gloating along blabbering about his contacts, his rags to riches story and what not. The blabber was paused here and there with the equally vigorous scratching which was oxymoronic to all that he was talking about.

The train had caught up speed and was roaring along the lonely fields and the man too was keeping up speed with stories that i was loosing interest in. Suddenly a young lady moved along near our seat and the man made way for the lady to move along. When she was away from earshot, he made a statement like "Kya maal hai" and I was shocked for a second for first I had never expected such blather from a person who was 35 at the minimum, a person who was just a moment ago was talking of the the talks he had with Rajiv Gandhi in 1987. I just looked at him with a look that maybe he thought of as interest. Now he took out his mobile which was a expensive Nokia model and he started showing pictures that he had clicked without permission of course of ladies in the station, this lady who passed along included. I was looking along with disgust, when he said he will show me some videos that he had taken. I said nothing expecting more videos taken without permission when he started showing me videos of a small kid dancing and the man started telling me abt how talented the kid was who incidentally was his daughter. I was shell struck, the person who a moment ago was talking abt babes and "maals" was now happily swaying in paternal bliss. This complete change in personality baffled me. I, not knowing how to react, kept on looking at him speechless, and then outside, through the window.

The person, having lost an audiance in me , was talking to my cousin and was telling him how people are always impressed by him, he said it was the brand of cloths you wear the boots you use... He said it is his high end Nokia which made him look respectful, I just glared. I was thinking maybe the uncouth man was correct, all the scratching, all the loud music, all the staring , those laschivious pics he took with his mobile was nothing, he will always be respected because of his cloths and his mobile. May be the man was correct, maybe it is the cloths we respect, maybe it is just that high end mobile which makes a man.

Whatever I say, i knew the man was correct. For the first time I slept early in the train.