The after taste!

*
Today was a different Monday. I didn't go to office, today. My mother left for Chennai today. The train was at 4, and I had to drop her at the station. I took the entire day off. Morning I got up late, lazed about afterwards. Had to do minor shopping for mom. Did that. Had a third
or fourth coffee, I don't remember, and slept.
Woke up at 2, took bath and slowly got ready to see my mother off. She wanted to stay a bit longer here, but that couldn't be. We went to the station, she in an auto, me escorting in a bike. We reached the station. I parked hurriedly in a no parking zone, for the auto used a different entrance and I had to rush there to pick up the luggages and pay the driver off. The station was a madhouse, with three important trains leaving around the same time. We trundled along slowly, climbed up the stairs, and got down on a platform hemmed by two trains, only to realise that we are on the wrong'un. I asked to mom to rest awhile. We had plenty of time on our side. I was tinged with worry about entering the station without a platform ticket and having parked the bike in a wrong place too. She was fretting over getting on the correct platform and on to her seat at the earliest. I was a bit irrascible trying to hide my concerns regarding bike and platform ticket from her. Otherwise, she'd fret more and that through her entire long journey too. I didn't want that. Then we again moved platforms, this time to the correct one. I made my mother sit at her reserved berth.
I started watching the crowd. It was fascinating. People hanging on to the person whom they have come to see off! It was all senti, pally-pally and smoochey stuff. I idly thought whether the odd bunch talking to the odd traveller, fond and fast, would've shown the same emotions till then. It seems that the train, the threat of departure it holds seems to evoke strange emotions in people. Maybe, every departure is like a temporary death, and hence affects us very much. My mom, held my hand, talking the take care of your health and such other stuff, that usually moms speak. The train was a bit empty and mom was a bit worried about travelling all alone. I could do nothing to that. Just commented not to take anything offered by strangers. I got down and stood by the glass window.
The train was already late by 10-15 minutes and so I didn't want to be in. We tried some sign language through the thick plexi-glass window. To no avail. I started observing how different groups having come to send off different persons, behave. It was truly
revealing. Though a few people looked disinterested, generally all were caught in their own whirlpool of sending-off emotions. People must have been together for quite some time. Yet they had so much to speak at the last moment! They had to exchange important phone numbers which God only knows why, they didn't do earlier. My mom was trying to say something and I couldn't make out any. The train showed no signs of movement. I was getting a bit tired, my mind already in "what would have happened to my bike" and "will they fine me for not buying platform ticket" mode. My mom meanwhile was just looking at me throught the glass window, being not able to tell something. Then again she wanted to talk something. I couldn't make out and just shrugged.
The delay, meanwhile, was telling on everybody at the station. People ran out of words to speak. Nobody can spout sugary stuff all the time, I guess. And high intensive outpouring drains people, I suppose. I idly thought whether the info my mom failed
to convey through the window glass was something important. The thought nagged on me. I may meet my mother again maybe next year. So why not be all ears now to her, my conscience pricked. The ticket examiners were chatting on the platform. I decided that it would be a long time before the train would start. The entrance nearest to my mom's seat was blocked by a
crowd looking on to their traveller standing at the door. I ran to the farthest entrance, hopped on, and raced through, to my mom's seat. I asked her what's it. She swept it off, said nothing, just drinking me in through her eyes. "Take care" tumbled through my lips. The train as if waiting for those words made a move.
Immediately my mom asked me to get off. I jumped down through the nearest exit, pushing aside the traveller still waving to her audience. I with a slight trepidation walked towards the entrance eyes on the look out for ticket checkers. Two of them were chatting ignoring the people. I managed safely across. One more hurdle to cross. I was a bit
nonplussed when I didn't find my bike in the position I parked in, but a bit skewed. Some other car wallah had managed to squeeze in abutting my bike. I walked nonchalantly and with a prayer on my lips, swung my leg across the bike. I heard a shout and looked up to see a cop beckoning me. My heart sunk. When bad luck comes in threes, why good luck shuns fellow company? I cursed at myself. I then launched into an innocent role. I claimed that I was new to the area and with a piteous expression wondered that whether it was a no parking area. Ofcourse all my histrionics didn't save me and my 100 rupees from being separated.
I was dejected that I had to unnecessarily pay that unofficial fine. I moved my bike and slowly came out of the station. I drove slowly and came to an area in shade and stopped there. I felt that I had to talk to someone. I called my friend C, at Delhi, and told her how I had to pay the policeman. My heart was heavy. Though, a niggling inside told me that being caught by the policeman was not the reason.

* - My mom, roommates and friends after a sumptous dinner.