Can I ask you a question?

I was waiting to board a train when this guy, evidently a train operator as he had this yellow jacket on, walked up to me and said,

"Excuse me lady, can I ask you a question?”

Even before I could react, the question was on its way.

“I noticed that you are carrying a sweater with you. Are you really that cold?"

Well, I wasn't surprised that he asked me that question because it was in the 80's that day!!

"I am carrying it with me 'cos it gets cold on the train sometimes.”

"Yes, you are right. I completely forgot about that. Some cars are colder than the others; it totally depends on which one you are in. I used to wonder initially why train operators wore those big jackets even in summer; later realized that it was because of the cold."

I gave him one of those standard smiles of mine that I give when I don’t know what to say.

"Can I tell you something Ma’am? You have very beautiful dark skin.”

I was surely taken aback by that sudden compliment thrown at me. I don’t remember if I blushed or not, but well, as one of my friends once said, you can’t tell if dark people blush. :P

“Have you always been dark or did you get dark in summer?”

“I was always dark.”

“Oh, I see. But, I gotta tell ya that that’s some beautiful skin you’ve got there. Have you heard of Mississippi Masala?”

I couldn’t quite recollect at that point what he was talking about.

“It is a movie starring Denzel Washington. Do you know Denzel Washington? He is an actor.”

“Of course... I like him!” And this time, I swear I blushed. :D

“So, in that movie, Denzel Washington falls for this Indian woman, who has a very strict, conservative father. Denzel and this girl initially fight over a car accident… that is how they meet in the first place. But slowly, they get to know each other and begin to fall in love. It is actually very beautiful, you know.”

Beautiful indeed is the process of falling in love. If only there wasn’t any post-processing involved! He continued talking while I was fervently looking behind me to check every approaching train to make sure I didn’t miss mine, getting caught in the web of love stories.

“I once met this Indian woman on the train. I used to operate the train to Skokje and this woman used to take that train. We slowly started talking... she told me that she never had a boyfriend before; she has never been kissed before… We grew to like each other and starting dating too. But her father was just like the Indian girl’s father in Mississippi Masala, very conservative."

"She had this cousin who was interviewing girls in the family to pick a wife. Yeah, you know, in their family, cousins marry each other...”

I gave him a very understanding nod.

“This cousin interviewed this girl as well. For some reason, he liked her a lot and preferred her over his other cousins. The girl did tell him everything, but he still wanted to marry her. The girl’s father…”

I had stopped paying attention as my train had arrived.

“You have been waiting for this train? Well then, here is a flyer for the show that I did last month... and that’s my band. You can visit this website to know more.”

There was his photograph indeed, with the rest of the band. I took the flyer from him and stared at it not knowing what to say.

“It was very nice talking to you.”

I smiled. “It was very nice talking to you too." I waved my hand and made a dash for the train.

He shouted across the platform, “What is your name?”

I answered his question, but not loud enough for him to hear. He repeated his question. The train chugged along, with him looking in its direction for an answer.