Has it ever happened, you encounter the same situation time and again, crossing the same path with an eerie feeling, accompanied with a great sense of discomfort, wondering, why you need to go through it again, wasn’t the earlier experience terrifying enough. But here you are once again helplessly in the exact same place, hoping it would be different, better than the previous.

The dark dingy lighting, garbage strewn all over, ear deafening noisy announcements, a strong stench of the over flowing unhygienic washrooms; flocked with people all around, some unapologetically rushing to board the arriving train, some standing in queues, some lying down lazily waiting for their train to arrive. This is the memory I have had of the Delhi Railway station and each time I visit, it looks just the same; a sudden sense of fear grips me, making me weak in the knees.

Given a choice, I would never visit it. But there is some connection, something that makes me go back to that place again. Not just for travel purposes, but to teach me a lesson that I have still not yet learnt.

When I was barely two, I excitedly ran around everywhere, enjoying my new found freedom of mobility, much to the annoyance of my family members, who frantically ran behind me to ensure I was safe, but on one such escapade; I went too far.

We were at Delhi Railway Station, my father settled us in the waiting room to check on a few things and Maa asked my super caring older sister to watch me till she came back from the restroom. Seeing my dad leave, made me want to follow him, the only hindrance to that exciting moment was my sister, standing strong, tough as a wall, not relenting to leave my hand. I had to jostle my way to finally escape and run around. Experiencing freedom at last, I was so happy that I was nowhere to be found.

This silly act resulted in pandemonium; my parents ran across various platforms, trains searching for me, making announcements, and pleading passer-by to check if they had seen me anywhere. Just then, my Maa noticed a complete stranger carrying me, crossing the overhead bridge, going outside the station. My dad ran like his life depended on it, snatched me from his clutches and placed me in the safest place on earth, my Maa’s arms. I’m sure that this was one of the most horrifying moments of my parents’ lives and if they are reading this, I am extremely sorry to make you go through it. Being a parent myself, I pray that no parent should ever experience what I unfortunately made you go through that day.

My silly antics may have led someone brilliant minds to come up with child leashes or harnesses. I truly deserved to be in one. Luckily, I was too small to remember the exact chain of events that unraveled that day, but there is a feeling that still haunts me each time I go to this station.

I have been to the station umpteen times, but each time I am there, I realize what a privileged life I have being leading and also understand the much needed difference between being spoiled and privileged. I am spoiled to the hilt, traveling by air everywhere, living in an insulated environment, completely far away from reality.  

The hustle and bustle of everyday life made me forget these very essential lessons until last month; I was reminded of them again, when our entire family had to travel by Amritsar Shatabdi. When my husband was booking the tickets, I walked up to him just to tell him to book seats in the executive class, so that Puchki has a comfortable and fun experience. But something made me stop and not articulate it.

We reached the station and it was just the way it has always been. With fear, I gripped Puchki’s hand and held it uncomfortably tight, not willing to let go in spite of her constant pleads. She was closely observing her surroundings and asking me endless questions. Why that person is lying down on the floor, its dirty Maa? Why that child is drinking water from the tap and not a filter, it’s not safe? Why there is so much dirt around, why no didi cleans it?  I kept quiet and just held on to her hand. Being there made me feel anxious, once I managed to calm my nerves, a force within me made me feel secure, like the way I always feel in my Maa’s arms. I was convinced at that moment nothing or no one could harm me or my family. And once we sat in the train, I answered all her questions patiently.

In my constant endeavor to protect Puchki and give her all comforts, unknowingly, I made her wear rosy colored glasses. Only to realise later that experiences like these will help crush those glasses and see the harsh truth of life. 

It was difficult for her to understand why everyone does not have a soft mattress to sleep on, clean drinking water or a hygienic and secure environment. At that moment, for the next few minutes all her actions showed signs of immense gratitude, her hyper active self was lost in deep thought until the attendant came to sell chips and chocolates; and her never ending demands started all over again.

Out of all the assignments that I have undertaken in my professional career, Parenting by far has been the most challenging. Your one action, decision, conversation builds the character of that soul that you brought into this world and there were times, I took it for granted. But I have faith; the same force that saved me at the station when I was just a child; will protect me, my family and help me raise my child in the right way, building in her an Attitude of Gratitude!