So I never uttered a word of protest before the journey though every fibre of my body resisted the trip. Now when I think in retrospect it was not the fear of journey but the phony characters surrounding you and there you don't even have the privilege of running away from them.

In my last journey, as I entered my compartment I glanced through my would-be companions for next few hours. Near the window was sitting a girl whose face reminded me of a fish. And then she yawned (not because of fatigue but more of boredom I suppose) and grinned at me. Next to her was sitting an elderly couple. Seeing me there was a twinkle in the eyes of the elderly man like he had found his prey. He looked to me of those kinds who think they have got the right to toxify the person by telling them what a great man he was and through what hardships he had gone to stick to his principles. The other two people sitting on my berth looked harmless.

I instantly planned my workouts. I had to be very careful from the elderly person. After settling down I opened up my novel. ``I suppose you are very fond of reading,'' the elderly person laid his first trap. ``Ya!'' I replied but I didn't look up from my book. ``To avoid eye contact is to avoid a conversation,'' I always stuck to this golden rule which had saved me from so much of turmoil.

But boy, this man was something. He exceeded all my expectations. ``Can I see your book,'' he asked. I handed my book to him without uttering a word. I fumbled for my lighter and cigarette. I lit one and took a deep drag looking outside the window. Old fellow asked me something then, but I didn't hear him. ``What sir?'' I said.

``What do you do''?
``I am a final year medical student''.

``By God,'' he said, ``and you smoke.'' His expression killed me. ``Can I have my book back,'' I asked, instead of replying his question.

``I can also read bhai! Let me have a look,'' and started laughing in this very high falsetto voice as he had cracked the joke of the century. He returned back my book and asked for a fag. I gave him one. Perhaps he thought smoking together will get us more intimate. But that was his idea of intimacy, not mine. I again got absorbed in my novel. The fellow started talking to other people but he soon got bored. I think he had taken me as a challenge and wanted to pin me down.

``What is your opinion about our new prime minister?'' I consider this one as his ace. Generally people loved discussing about political matters. It is a sure shot time killer since you can drag endlessly on this topic. Really a lucrative one.

``I didn't get the answer,'' he said, breaking my analysis. ``Well I never threw one,'' I replied, ``Generally our prime minister changes as soon as you have formed an opinion about them so I have stopped forming one.'' Now I thought his quiver was empty but he was Jeffery Archer's clone. Quiver full of arrows.

At night he offered me to share his meal. ``No today is my fast,'' I replied. ``But today is Sunday,'' he said. Now I started spinning an impromptu yarn. ``No I keep shuffling my fast days, whichever suits me is my fast day,'' I said with a mischievous grin. He knew that I was kidding and I wanted him to know that. Mercifully the next station was my destination. As soon as I got down, I said, ``Goodbye uncle, it was nice talking to you,'' and without listening to his reply I walked out. I can almost guess his new topic of conversation. About how this new generation is going to dogs. How they don't have any respect for elders, how snobbish their behavior is and what will happen of this country...

I smiled and waved for an autorickshaw. This is living life the snobbish way, I said to myself.