Let's talk

Never apologise for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologise for truth.

Something that put the warmth back into a freezing January morning for me -

Teeth chattering, I found myself a seat on the train to Kashmere Gate. Wandering idly from the route map to an ad for cough syrup to the pane opposite - where I tried, for the hundredth time, to look for my reflection amid a myriad of blurred images - my gaze fell upon two passengers, right across the aisle from where I sat.

One was a tall, spare man, twenty five years old, thirty maybe. Tucking a pen into his lapel, he was drawing his beige jacket tightly about himself, pride written all over the gesture. Next to him sat an elderly gentleman with a turban and white whiskers, his head resting against the glass partition. Even as I sat there watching them, an animated conversation began.

"They kept asking me to hurry," the younger man was saying, proudly, "and I still managed to dress up! Look at this jacket! Let's have tea when we get there."

The older one smiled affectionately. "Tea can wait. Finish your paper first."

"But some tea would be nice! See how cold it is!" the younger man protested.

The turbaned gentleman pointed to his watch. "There's no time!'

"I'll drive us home!" the other was visibly excited.

His companion couldn't help another fatherly grin. "No, that's OK, I'll do the driving."

"I drive fast!!"

"No, I'll take care of the driving. Think about the paper. There will be lots to write."

The train stopped at Civil Lines. A neon-lit advertisement for a recent Bollywood release all but obscured the wall facing the duo.

"Look!" the younger one pointed eagerly, "This one? Shall we go for this one?"

"Write your paper first, let me drive you home, and you can go for as many movies as you please!"

The younger guy sat there, sulking. His companion patted his shoulder. Like magic, the smile was back.

"You will come with me, then? After the paper? Can I drive after the paper?"
"We'll see."

"Tea? Please? Five minutes for tea?"

The next station is Kashmere Gate. Change here for the Red Line. Doors will open on the right. Please mind the gap.

I cast the two a grateful glance and silently wished the younger guy luck with his paper, whatever it was. Cheerfulness, affection, patience, enthusiasm, understanding - things we could all do with a little more of - are independent of words, really.

This duo, for instance, seemed to be doing just fine with sign language.