Sleeper II

I love trains. Don't know why. They make sense to me in a way that airplanes don't. (Please don't come back to me with sixteen comments about lift and about how the plane isn't likely to drop out of the sky like a stone -- I know the mechanics of how a plane works. I've just never liked them very much.)

Maybe I like trains because I can hang my head out of the window and watch the country go by. Or maybe because, at heart, I am a bit of a romantic and trains (even still!) have that bit of romance to them.

At any rate, when I was buying a packet of idlis to take with me, the man in the queue next to me turned and asked "Why do you look so happy today?"

"I'm going on a trip!" I told him.

My compartment was ladies' only, plus two children, who spent the first hour of the trip playing a game they made up titled "what's in your tiffin-carrier?"

"Is it chocolates?"

"No."

"Is it ice cream?"

"No, sillies, it would melt!"

Etc. It's a good thing I like talking to children almost as much as I like trains. ^__^

Considering I am, in general, a poor sleeper (particularly in new environs), I managed to get much more sleep than I thought I would. The lulling movement was very soporific, and the entire train had its lights off by about 9:30 p.m.

Probably because they knew the lights would come on again at about 5:30 a.m.

From my upper berth (and my compartment's direct connection to the lavatories) I had the privilege of watching nearly our entire car wake up and complete their morning ablutions. Smelling this, of course, was much less of a privilege. Interestingly, most of the male passengers took turns queuing up to brush their teeth... and only one of the women. Is toothbrushing something women are "not supposed" to do in public? Or is it that our breath just always smells like flowers? ^__^

Will write more about Bangalore soon; now, it's naptime.