A ride on the "Fire Vehicle"

I started off last Saturday at around noon for the railway station, just as I have many times before. The monsoon rain was relentless, making my two giant suitcases extremely difficult to transport down the platform. It also made me all the more conspicuous (like being a white blonde girl isn’t enough!). I was also coming down with something: a fever and coughing. With all these variables in mind, I decided I was going to suck it up and pay for a 3-tier A/C ticket.

Right away, a man singled me out as a rich white girl who needed a coolie. Perhaps this is common in the North, but I felt like a real idiot imperialist having someone carry my bags for me. He was so insistent that I finally relented. Anyway, I could only hope he was going to use that money to feed his family.

The trip went relatively well, and I thought myself very safe in this extremely private compartmentalized car. Until the guy selling samosas decided to sit down in the compartment across from mine. I tried to ignore his obvious staring, but after realizing it wasn’t going to stop any time soon, I closed the curtain to my compartment. A feeling of peace washed over me, and I laid down for some sleep.

I woke up to a lot of noise coming from the compartment across from mine where that man was sitting before. I looked to my feet, and I thought it was odd that the curtain was drawn about a quarter of the way open. A few seconds later I saw a face peeking through the opening and staring at me! Even after the young man made eye contact with me, I couldn’t believe his audacity to keep staring! I got up quickly, shouted at him to go away, and closed the curtain. I looked through the little opening and there was now a huge group of coolies sitting in the next compartment gambling and playing cards. (Note to self: NEVER get the compartment next to the dining car).

I huddled back into my compartment seething with anger. “Should I move?” I had two gigantic suitcases under my seat, and that would not be an easy task. I couldn’t just leave them there, what if they got stolen? “Plus, why should I have to move? It’s my right to be sitting here, I paid for this seat!” I thought to myself. I decided to stay where I was.

As I sat there, I thought about all the harassment that women have to go through every day all over the world. I thought about the stories I had heard about busses and trains, movie theaters—every day women have to be prepared for something to happen. This is not the first or the worst thing that has happened to me. But it sucks having to live your life prepared for harassment. I wasn’t about to stop taking trains, but it makes the trip that much more difficult.

Malayalam Words:

Train = Thivandi (literally "fire vehicle")

Sleep = Oranguka

Women = Streekal

Think= chinthikkuka

Anger = Deshyam