Mr. Saxena had prepared for this train journey for weeks. He was fifty years old, and his back gave him trouble. He had successfully booked a Lower Berth. He was ready. He had his blanket, his pillow, and his plan to sleep at exactly 9:00 PM.
The
train departed. At 9:05 PM, a young boy entered the compartment.
"Uncle," the boy said, "I have the Upper Berth. But I hurt my leg
playing cricket. Can we swap?"
Mr.
Saxena looked at the boy. He felt a twinge of sympathy, but his
backache was real. "I'm sorry, son," he said. "I have back issues." The
boy nodded sadly and climbed up. Mr. Saxena felt a bit guilty.
At 9:15 PM, a woman with a toddler entered. She had the Middle Berth. She looked at Mr. Saxena. The toddler looked at Mr. Saxena. The silent pressure was building. Mr. Saxena closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.
At 9:30 PM, an elderly lady entered. She had the Side Upper berth. She stood in the aisle, looking at the ladder, then at Mr. Saxena. She didn't say a word. She just sighed. It was a loud, heavy sigh that echoed the suffering of humanity.
The entire compartment was watching. Mr. Saxena felt like the villain in a movie. The guilt was heavier than the train engine.
"Fine!" Mr. Saxena grunted, standing up. "Aunty, take the Lower Berth. I will take the Side Upper."
The lady beamed. "Bless you, beta!" she exclaimed, sitting down immediately.
Mr. Saxena climbed up to the Side Upper. It was cramped. The fan was blowing directly into his ear. He couldn't sleep all night. He was miserable.
The next morning, the elderly lady opened her large bag. She took out a steel container. She opened it to reveal fresh, homemade Aloo Parathas and spicy mango pickle. The smell filled the compartment.
She looked up at Mr. Saxena. "Beta, come down. Breakfast is ready."
Mr. Saxena climbed down. He took a bite of the paratha. It was warm and delicious. He realized that he had traded his sleep for comfort food and a stranger's blessing. In the grand scheme of things, it was a profitable trade.