Jaggi, the red-turbaned betel leaf-chewing senior TTE, was moving around the AC compartment as the crowd swarmed him. In his younger days, his senior and mentor had once told him, “Throughout the year you’ll have to loiter everywhere examining tickets. But then there will be days when people will haunt you. Yes, these are the days! When, if you can cash intelligently, you do drive home plenty of fluid cash.” Now, with age, he has mastered the required skills.

With his glasses down to the tip of his nose, he looked at the chart while furtively glancing at the surrounding crowd. All of them were associated with different genres of fish, each needing a special technique to be hooked. But then he was looking for the fat fish. There he was at the end, the jittery, nervous old man.

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Now, he had to meet his target, and hence this crowd had to be dispersed. He looked up and said, “Please go and sit somewhere; let me first check the reserved seats, and then I will come and see that each of you gets a seat.” As the crowd thinned out, the old man still stayed there. Jaggi, smacking the residual part of the juicy red fluid that had just flowed down his lower lip, walked towards the old man. “So, Sir ji, how many berths do you want?”

“No, sir, I have a berth. I need to talk to you; please give me some time.”

“Aha, you want to talk. Please go to your seat, sir; I will come to you. It will take some time.” Jaggi gave his best animated smile, and all of his tanned teeth became visible.

Sitting in his berth, the old man shifted his body and went on nodding his head. The man opposite enquired, “Any problem, Uncle? We have some medicines with us.” He suddenly became stiff and nodded in negation. Now and then he moved out and then came back after some time. The caterer came to serve dinner. As he put the food packet near the old man, he refused to accept it. The caterer said, “But, sir, this is complimentary with your ticket. It’s my duty to serve; now then what you do is totally your business.”

In the meantime, Jaggi had passed them a couple of times, and when the old man tried to approach him, he simply waved to say, Wait, I shall be coming back to you. All the passengers were having the food when the old man went out. His co-passenger, taking a large bite on the chicken leg, addressed the couple sitting in front, “You know I feel there is something fishy about this man.”

The lady sitting opposite said, “Why do you say so?”

“Well, see his turbulent mannerisms and every now and then going out. I’m sure you are aware of so many incidents of burglary in trains.”

“But he is too old and looks a lot stressed.”

“All of this is part of his disguise; maybe he has a team sitting here and there. Don’t you worry; I usually have trouble sleeping at night. I shall keep a watch on him.”

The couple nodded sceptically.

It was around 11.30 p.m.; almost all lights had been turned off. The rhythmic sound of people snoring could be heard from different corners. The old man, sitting stiffly near the window, was still nodding his head when Jaggi the TTE approached him. He switched on the lights and asked, “Tell me, Sir ji, what you want to tell.”

The old man groped for words and then took out an identity card with shaky hands.

Jaggi told “So Mr R Raguvindran Raju, the head cashier of Gramin Sampada Bank. So what exactly is your problem?”

“Sir, I retired eleven years ago. Now if you give me some time, I could explain my problem.”

Jaggi nodded. “Please carry on.”

Raju continued, “If you see your chart, this berth belongs to G S Rao, full name Gunu Shekaran Rao, aged 31 years. He is my son-in-law.”

“So, where is Mr Rao now?” Jaggi exclaimed.

Raju lowered his head and fumbled, “He couldn’t board the train, sir.”

“What! Then you are travelling instead of him.”

“No Sir. This is not intentional, but purely accidental. If you are patient, I can explain everything in detail.”

Jaggi nodded, affirming Raju to continue. All the other co-passengers in the cabin and a passing vendor listened attentively, expecting an interesting tale.

“These trains, flyovers, platforms and stations have always made me nervous. I had always avoided them. But today, as I entered this compartment, I don’t know why, I felt very relaxed. Shekar told me to sit, as there was time for the train to leave. Then, as the crowd would settle down, I could get down. We were discussing a very serious matter when he realised the train was moving. As you see, the cabin is in the middle, so we ran towards the left entrance. He was galloping, and I was trotting. Reaching the gate, he animatedly showed me the process of a fluid ejection from the running train. I tried a lot but failed to execute. Then, in a desperate move, he jumped down. There on the platform, he was running with hands stretched out. He was asking me not to think but to jump; he would catch me.

I thought of the great leap, but there was no coordination between my body and my brain. In effect, what happened was that my legs went swinging up and the hands never left the handrails of the door. Then suddenly your train became a bullet train. Whatever drive I had just withered away. There, Shekar too stopped running. Panting, he waved, as if saying, “Now you complete the journey.” Raju stopped. There were some chuckles heard.

Jaggi was thoroughly enjoying this. Now the six-foot tall, potbellied sardar was thin, short, and a bit sloppy in his heydays. Then he had to face the brunt of this mess. Now sitting on the other side was highly pleasurable. Jaggi said, “Really a very sad tale, sir, but I feel really very sorry to tell you that there will be a fine for your unauthorised travel.”

“Fine!” Raju fumbled, “How much, sir?”

“A minimum of Rs 2,000; I’ll have to check the exact amount,” Jaggi said matter-of-factly.

Raju, in a troubled state, exclaimed, “I don’t have that much money with me, sir!”

“Then the railway police would put you behind bars. Tomorrow being Sunday, you will be taken to the court the day after at the earliest.” The Satanic horns above Jaggi’s turban glowed intently.

The old man was on the verge of crying. Sparing the soft resonating sound of the moving train, there was barely any other noise. Then the passenger, who had suspected Raju to be a bandit, addressed Jaggi, “Please, sir! See if anything can be done.”

Jaggi knew it would be difficult to complete his mission here. He said, “Come, Mr Raju, my colleagues are there in the next compartment. Let’s discuss what best can be done”.

They were leaving when the lady sitting opposite said, “No, Mr Arora, you don’t have to go anywhere.” Jaggi stopped on the way, as did Raju. Her husband exclaimed, “Niru, I don’t understand why you have to get involved in everyone’s affairs.”

Niru first addressed Jaggi, ‘You make the ticket with the entire fine; I will pay for it.’ Then looking at her husband, “See Shekar, I am just trying to help Uncle Ji.” Her husband had nothing more to say.

Jaggi reluctantly sat down. Took out his ticket booklet and asked the lady, “Are you sure, madam?”

Niru replied, “Of course, please do your duty. I really appreciate your diligence towards your job.”

Jaggi scribbled, and Niru took a few photographs on her mobile phone. Then handing the ticket, Jaggi said, “Rs 2,145, Madam”.

Niru took out five 500 rupee notes and handed them over to Jaggi.

As Jaggi was returning the change, Niru read the ticket and dropped it in her purse. Jaggi was leaving when she said, “Please don’t leave now. There is something very important that I have to tell you.”

Jaggi sat down again. “So I believe you don’t think I have almost spent 21 hundred rupees and took the plunge for philanthropy.”

Before Jaggi could say anything, she continued, “So the big question is, what could be my benefit? I would definitely clarify your doubt. But before that, tell me, do you like this image of yours?”

Jaggi was looking at his image when she continued. The gist of what Niru narrated was that she was an editor and also one of the major contributors of a magazine, ‘Life Truths.’ Till now she had written stories inspired by daily life but written as fiction. Today she has a story where all the characters were real. Which is then backed up with images, documents, and audio recordings of the live event.

Here there was the role reversal. Jaggi, in his school days, had always suspected the concept of the earth’s rotation and revolution. Now then he realised his teachers were right. Thoroughly perspiring, Jaggi pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his mouth. The mark left in his cheek by the red fluid resembled a violent cut by a sharp knife seen in Bollywood movies.

Tall and well-built Jaggi pleaded like a lamb, “Madam, can something be done here?”

There was again the silence; only the soft sound of the train in motion was perceptible. Then she said, “Well, there is a way where this total episode can be undone.”

Jaggi, releasing a long gasp of breath, said, “Tell me, Madam, what do I need to do?”

“You do have a vast project to undertake tonight, Mr Arora. Arrange for Raju uncle’s return home in all comfort. And tomorrow morning I will talk with Gunushkaran regarding this.’”

“If this is done, then the story won’t be published, I suppose?” said Jaggi.

Niru smiled, “No, then the story will be a fictional one. So, Mr Arora, don’t waste your time here. You have lots to do now.”

Jaggi moved out, puffing like a 1960’s steam engine. All the passengers cheered, as if their home team had won the shield. They were going to have a nice sleep. They all would buy the next edition of ‘Life Truths’.

It is not every day that you are the front-row spectator of a happening event.