A memory from several weeks ago ….
We are squeezing off India Railway's Shimla-to-Delhi overnighter, groggy, into a fast tumbling current of commuters, when I hear a child’s panic screams, then see two men in uniform, one swinging a lathi at a boy’s legs and back, more screams, the boy in the filthy remains of clothes, now curled fetal on the floor, arms and hands over his head, another threatened swing of the lathi. We stand frozen.
I glare at the uniformed man and his companion. I want to grab his arm or grab the boy or grab back this last minute.
The current of passengers keeps flowing, one, two or three acknowledging what is happening in a quick glance then moving on, when the second man in uniform says something to his companion, perhaps pulling him off, then we too move back into the current, those few moments replaying once, then again and again in my mind’s eye as we search for the EXIT sign.
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