Meeting Ayesha

I just about managed to catch the direct train from Andheri to Panvel...and only people who commute via the same route as me will understand that this was no less than hitting a jack pot. If catching the train was good, then acquiring a seat was luxury. A luxury that I relished.. Breathing a sigh of relief, I fumbled through my bag to find the novel that I had been trying to finish. The train sped off and I relaxed my limbs by taking off my footwear (a typical Indian habit) and prepared myself for a journey that would last for an hour and a half.

The gentle bumps that marked the train catching speed were accompanied by cool breeze that rushed in to mess up my already messy hair. Some relief from the heat of humidity of the evening! An hour later, I looked up from the book only to see a foreigner in front of me. As I took in her rich dark skin, the fat god chain that hung around her neck and a heavy locket that threatened to make the lady bow down with it weight, she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Realizing that I was staring and remembering my mums instructions that staring was rude, I looked away…Briefly...Then looked at her again. I found her interesting. I mean it’s not every day that you get to sit with a foreigner especially in a local train.

Out of the blue, I felt a flutter up my nose and started sneezing…Actually it was a train of sneezes one after the other. A few minutes later I leaned back, tired of the effort of sneezing and being the stubborn fool that I am, I looked at her again and saw her smiling at me. I smiled back and that broke the ice. I asked her the one question we all love asking outsiders...'How do you find India', and she cringed...caught my disapproving expression and hurriedly straightened her face to clarify,"You all don’t like dark people, whenever I enter the train, you all push and women especially, they call me dark, ugly...start wiping their hands if they touch me, I don’t like it." I was surprised, not just at her tattered English but also cos this was the last thing that I expected. I dint know how far she was being honest, but we Indians are suckers for fair skin, seeing the rate at which our fairness products sell. 'It’s not that bad', I retorted'may be you met the wrong people'. 'Don’t know, but not nice to be like this’ she added and then chose to stare out of the window. There was an uncomfortable silence. 'How do you like our food?' I asked. I thought it was safe to discuss our cuisine. 'Too spicy' she answered wrinkling her nose 'but I enjoy kheer and gajar ka halwa' she added with a smile. 'Whats you name?' I asked,'Ayesha.Whats yours?'she replied'Suneeta' I asnwered.'So where you heading?' I continued. 'Don’t know the name of the place, but one station before the last.' The train had almost reached my destinaton.‘Can I click you?’ I asked hesitating a little."Oh sure!" she answered, all smiles. Enthusiastically she struck a pose. She asked to see the image, not satisfied with the result, asked me to click her again. Happy with the next pic she said that she wanted to click me as well.She fished out an iphone from her bag (it was the first time that I had see one and I stared at it with such lust that she tightened her grip on it...hehehe).A few clicks and I boarded off the train, waving to Ayesha, a guest in our country who wasn’t happy with us…We,Indians who are enraged if any one of us has to face racism. Had she been a blonde, may be her reception would have been better. Staring at the dusky skin on my hand I started my short walk home…