[Reader-list] TC - Continued

[zainab at xtdnet.nl]

TC (Contd 
)

“One day, I was checking tickets in a long-distance train from Kalyan to
CST (final junction for Central Railways). It was a bank holiday that day,
perhaps a festival of the Hindus. At Mumbra station, a bunch of Muslims
entered the train. I started checking tickets. The Muslims began acting
smart when I asked them to show tickets. ‘We all have tickets,’ one boy
announced. I replied, ‘I am very happy to hear that all of you have
tickets. But my job is to see with my own eyes, not to listen with my
ears.’ They recognized that I am Muslim through my beard. They said to me,
‘Kya saab (what sir), you are ‘our’ man and you are asking us for
tickets?!?!’ I was in a trap. There was a little commotion created and
some gair (other) passengers came over and started watching what was
happening. Now, these passengers were keen to see if I would check this
Muslim bunch. I was in a real dilemma. If I don’t check the Muslim
passengers, these ‘other’ passengers may say ‘look, he is partial and this
is what happens in the railways!’ I feared that they may even complain
against me to the railways. Two boys from the Muslim bunch demanded me to
show my badge, ‘How do we know that you are a TC?’ they said. I showed
them my badge. They took away my badge and started playing with it. I had
to use rough language now, like our Nagpada style language. I said to
them, “Dekho bhailog (look brothers), if you take away my badge, I will
make a lost case and get another badge. That’s not the issue. But let’s
get straight here. I want to see your tickets. I just want to confirm and
I will go away. What’s the problem here?’ Some people in the group turned
out to be sensible. They told the rest to show tickets. All of them had
tickets except for one who had an expired train pass. ‘This is an expired
pass,’ I said to him, ‘You will have to pay a fine.’ ‘What saab,’ he said
to me, “You are ‘our’ man and you will fine me?’ Now other passengers
started wondering if I will actually fine this fellow. I made ‘prestige’
out of this issue – meri izzat ka sawaal aa gaya! I said to him, ‘You will
have to pay a fine.’ One fellow from the group was understanding and he
said, ‘Let’s pay up the fine.’ Thus, matters were settled finally! And I
came out as a fair TC,” he concluded the story during one of my earlier
conversations with him.

TC believes that his job is fraught with dangers. “Passengers can get
violent when I legitimately ask them to pay up a fine. Sometimes, in very
crowded trains, particularly in the evenings, faulting passengers even try
to throw us out of the trains. What to do? Very danger,” he said, rolling
his eyes and head and posing a grave look on his face.

“Arre, you know what happened this morning,” he started telling me one
day, some months ago, “This morning, I caught hold of two old Muslim
passengers who were traveling without a luggage ticket. I asked them to
pay up a luggage fine of fifty rupees. They started howling and cursing
the railways. ‘We did not know this, we did not know this!’ To top it all,
they were traveling on a ticket which was bound for the previous station
and was therefore invalid. I brought this to their notice and said to
them, ‘At least pay up the luggage fine!’ They recognized that I was
Muslim. They said to me, ‘You are brethren and you are fining us. Allah
dekhta hai (God is watching over you).’ I was pissed off. I said to them,
‘What is this allah dekhta hai? I am doing my duty. I am not asking
anything illegal from you!’ They got defensive and started offering me
twenty rupees. Now I said to them, ‘Ab allah nahi dekhta hai kya? (Isn’t
god watching over you now that you are trying to bribe me?)’ They felt
ashamed. And finally, they paid the luggage fine!

On another occasion, I introduced TC to my French basketball player friend
who was interested in listening to his everyday stories of
ticket-and-ticketless! “Oh, one day you know what happened?” TC started,
“I caught hold of this guy who was traveling without a ticket. He looked
very posh. He was wearing executive suit and tie. I asked him his
profession. He brought out his card. He was a senior head in ICICI bank.
His name was something Aiyyengar. Now, I have heard that Aiyyengar’s are a
Brahmin community of South and they can be trusted because they are men of
honour and they keep their word! I asked Aiyyengar to pay up the fine. He
pleaded before me saying, ‘I don’t have the money right now and I am too
rushed for a meeting. I promise to come tomorrow and pay up.’ Because he
was an Aiyyengar, I decided to trust him. I took his card and mobile
number and told him that I would wait for him at the same place tomorrow.
He did not turn up the next day. So I phoned on his mobile ‘Hello,
Aiyyengar, I am TC. You are supposed to pay up the fine!’ He said on the
other end, ‘I don’t know you. I am busy now. Call later.’ See, even
Aiyyenagrs are not trustworthy,” he concluded the tale for the day.

To be continued 




Zainab Bawa
Bombay
www.xanga.com/CityBytes
http://crimsonfeet.recut.org/rubrique53.html