Perspective

Today I happened to visit the railway station. It was night time, about 10pm, when my sister was expected to arrive on the platform number 6 of Nagpur railway station. I was waiting outside the station, so I didn’t exactly see it completely but what I saw was enough to remind me of a horrible truth we tend to forget as time passes by.
Time flows like a river, indefinitely, never waiting for anyone. A child would see things differently. But as the same child sails the boat of life in the river of time his “perspective” changes. The very same child, who had once walked the same place clutching his mother’s saree tightly, now hurries down the stairs to just catch a train and find his seat. Now what has this got to do with “perspective”?
Let’s say, this little child comes from a well-to-do family. He is intrigued by the hustle and bustle of the railway station. The diversity is mesmerizing. A woman with her child passes by. They are just like him, only their clothes are torn and they smell of dirt and sweat. He watches as a family of four just like his, sleeps on the floor. ‘Why are they sleeping on the floor?’ he wonders. A zillion questions flood the innocent mind. Who’s voice do they hear on the announcement? Who are all these people? Where are they going? What is the crippled man on the platform selling? Where are all those students in bright blue school uniforms from? Are they on a school trip?
All these questions and doubts nag him. There are many doubts but only one feeling- curiosity. Pure, innocent curiosity with nothing else in mind. This little child doesn’t back off when a little boy comes begging for food. This little child is awed by the assembly of poor and rich all at the same place. This little child has no fear, no ill thoughts for anyone.
Years pass and that child grows up to be a man, all independent. He no longer requires his mother’s saree. A briefcase in hand, he hurries down the platform searching for his coach. He stumbles over something and turns around only to realise it’s not something, it’s someone. He is late. He doesn’t have time for such nonsense. The crippled is clutching his leg tightly to take support. Why couldn’t this crippled get out of the way? There is no place for such people on a platform. He loses his train due to this stupid man who can’t even walk properly. The vendors are moving about the platform, but of course it’s their job and there is nothing fascinating about that. The poor family sleeping on the floor is so disgusting. They are blocking the way to the lavatory. The next train leaves an hour late. His only support now is his mobile phone. It’s funny how he is surrounded by so many people and yet is all alone. The screen of the phone is much more interesting than watching stupid people run here and there. As he is sitting on the bench an old man in rags comes and sits beside him. Suddenly he is consious of his suitcase and holds it tight near him while glancing sideways at the old man in suspicion. He is no longer curious as he was all those years ago. He has many feelings- hatred, disgust, fear, anger.
It’s funny how knowledge of the world makes us oblivious to the world itself. It’s funny how growing up to know much more kills the curious little child within.
This single visit to the station today reminded me of the times when I too was a lot curious. But now I see myself waiting for my sister typing this article because the world outside my mobile screen has nothing worth watching now. I now have suspicion for every other person who passes by me and I clutch my purse tighter. It is funny how “perspective” changes with facing the reality of life.