the romance of train travel

Ever since i got off the Rajdhani i’ve been thinking about it. And finally i have the answer.

The sinks on the train are designed by a mean minded midget with no elbows.

Why else would it reach my knees?

Which means you have to bend double over the damn sink. Which is not very appropriate when you have leery men, with toothbrushes sticking out of their mouths staring at your behind.

The other thing is why are people suddenly so concerned about personal hygienic on the train. The train reaches at 8.30 in the morning. I would advice lots of mint, chewing gum and maybe those Listerine tabs which create a waterfall sensation in your mouth (if smoked up, it’s a groovy waterfall). And yeah, many people might not agree, and would want to brush their teeth. Fine, that is still okay.

But what about the ones who must brush their teeth, then scrape their tongue and finally make loud retching noises. This is all in the passage sink, while the queue behind them gets longer and longer. It’s like the louder you make those half burp-half retch-half gagging while removing the decaying yellow coating from your tongue sounds, the cleaner you are. Sometimes I think if they could hold up the coating like a trophy they would be happy. But since they can’t they have to outdo each other with the noises.

“There you pathetic passengers, did you hear that, my tongue is so fucking clean that if I make another noise, my tonsils would probably pop out. I’m a fucking rockstar.”

And this is true irrespective of gender and age.

The other thing. The water coming out of the tap is a sorry trickle. Which means it takes ages to just do the whole brushing your teeth routine. Then there are folks who’ll take out their free paper soap and carefully wet their face and neck. And then start to lather the paper all over their skin. But the damn paper doesn’t lather. So now the queue has gotten even longer.

At which point a few ambitious ones will cut in with a “ excuse please” squeeze their brush under the tap and start to brush their teeth while standing in line.

The rockstar of hygiene is still lathering the non-existent lather. And after ten whole minutes will start to wash it off. The face, neck, behind the ears, and finally wet the hair till its dripping its dandruff into the already clogged sink. And by now the ambitious ones have toothpaste drooling from the sides of their mouth.

You know what’s the most fun part. That the breakfast trays are being ferried through this mass of spitting, belching, drooling, retching morning ablutions.

Which is why I prefer the mints.

PS: Now for some real rockers. A and his band just recorded their first three songs. They’re up on reverbnation. Click here to go to their page.

picture credit deviantart.com. as usual. coz i'm too lazy to look anywhere else.