The trip to Ahmedabad had been uneventful, pleasant even. Dad and mum, in their eighties now and Sakina were with me. After a halt at the Shrines of Syedna Kutbuddin Shahid, we rested and prayed. I was almost relaxed because this was the final leg of the journey. Dad walked slowly with the help of a walking stick. Afflicted with degeneration of the knee cartilage,he walked with a great deal of trouble. pain was a constant that he battled with pain killers.
We reached the platform at about nine p m. The train was scheduled to leave at ten. Concerned a little about time i anxiously scanned platform l where the train was supposed to arrive. To my horror i was told it would only go to Platform Five instead. The coolie, with our considerable luggage started to run ahead, sakina in his wake. I started to hurry the parents towards a lift which would take us up to the footover bridge. Crowds notwithstanding we struggled slowly along. Dad must have been equally anxious, but was calm, concentrating on hurrying as much as possible.
After what seemed an interminable wait for the lift, we alighted on the footover, only to be faced with the prospect of a long stretch of corridor to take a lift down to the platform. Nine thirty. We were just descending on to the platform. Nine forty. We were finally on the platform with the train alongside us. B 2. B 2. Almost obsessively my mind repeated those words. The number of the bogey we were supposed to be in. Panic stricken we turned left and struggled along amidst the teeming crowds, Sakina was nonstop on the phone hurrying me on. All of a sudden i stopped. To my horror i realised we were heading right instead of left. Towards S 2. Panicked Ileft the parents and raced in the opposite direction, abandoning the folks, reaching the right bogey in a flash. Swinging up, my daughter took one look at my face and took off to find the folks. I collapsed on the seat, my entire body trembling with the surety that they would miss the train.
Five..... Minutes to ten. Anxiously peering from the door, i got a call. "Ma, put your head out. Do as i say. Fast." I did just that. Miraculously, dad's head emerged from the door of the adjacent bogey. Mum was pushed in literally, followed by dad. Finally in flew my brave daughter. Just as the whistle blew and the train started, we sat stunned and laughing almost hysterically. We had made it.
Sakina it seemed had the sense i lacked. Having flown across the entire platform, she had located the folks, and got them to climb in the nearest bogey. Then. pushing people aside, brandishing one of dads two sticks, she hurried them along until they reached B 2.
Having caught our breaths i anxiously turned to dad. Only allah knows how his feet must have pained him, Only Allah knows how tired he must have been. But nary a word of complaint from him. He kept reassuring me that he was fine. Everything was fine. Any other old person in his place would have blasted me off. Not my dad. That is the stuff he is made of.
We reached the platform at about nine p m. The train was scheduled to leave at ten. Concerned a little about time i anxiously scanned platform l where the train was supposed to arrive. To my horror i was told it would only go to Platform Five instead. The coolie, with our considerable luggage started to run ahead, sakina in his wake. I started to hurry the parents towards a lift which would take us up to the footover bridge. Crowds notwithstanding we struggled slowly along. Dad must have been equally anxious, but was calm, concentrating on hurrying as much as possible.
After what seemed an interminable wait for the lift, we alighted on the footover, only to be faced with the prospect of a long stretch of corridor to take a lift down to the platform. Nine thirty. We were just descending on to the platform. Nine forty. We were finally on the platform with the train alongside us. B 2. B 2. Almost obsessively my mind repeated those words. The number of the bogey we were supposed to be in. Panic stricken we turned left and struggled along amidst the teeming crowds, Sakina was nonstop on the phone hurrying me on. All of a sudden i stopped. To my horror i realised we were heading right instead of left. Towards S 2. Panicked Ileft the parents and raced in the opposite direction, abandoning the folks, reaching the right bogey in a flash. Swinging up, my daughter took one look at my face and took off to find the folks. I collapsed on the seat, my entire body trembling with the surety that they would miss the train.
Five..... Minutes to ten. Anxiously peering from the door, i got a call. "Ma, put your head out. Do as i say. Fast." I did just that. Miraculously, dad's head emerged from the door of the adjacent bogey. Mum was pushed in literally, followed by dad. Finally in flew my brave daughter. Just as the whistle blew and the train started, we sat stunned and laughing almost hysterically. We had made it.
Sakina it seemed had the sense i lacked. Having flown across the entire platform, she had located the folks, and got them to climb in the nearest bogey. Then. pushing people aside, brandishing one of dads two sticks, she hurried them along until they reached B 2.
Having caught our breaths i anxiously turned to dad. Only allah knows how his feet must have pained him, Only Allah knows how tired he must have been. But nary a word of complaint from him. He kept reassuring me that he was fine. Everything was fine. Any other old person in his place would have blasted me off. Not my dad. That is the stuff he is made of.
