Today, a ‘middle berth’ will keep me company for the 10 odd hours. And i climb in. The air is chill. And blankets and sheets are crisp. I am tired. All the travel is taking its toll. And soon i am sleeping.

Woken up, in some time, by a distinct rumble in the compartment. The gentleman at the berth right opposite is snoring. High decibel. When problems come, they come in battalions. This is one hell of sound battalion ! I look around for help. Everybody who i can see are are deep inside the blankets and sheets. They too are suffering, i think. And there is some vicarious pleasure.

I try sleeping. Then i realise that there are new snore variants from other passengers. Emboldened perhaps ! Sigh. I twist. And turn. In that middle berth. I call for divine intervention. I fume. If snoring can be a cause for divorce, can it be used to disembark a gent from a train ? I wonder.

In some time. My one and half year old nephew wakes up. I think i know why. Divine intervention, they say, comes in strange ways. I walk the vestibule with him. And this is what i spot.

At 2.30 AM, in the dead of night, with a crying nephew and a high decibel snorer for background score, standing near the litter box of train no : 6732, here i am. A poor tired soul, ready to make a speech on gender equality to the steel pipes metal doors there.

And then, i chance upon this.