'I want to start a bijnesh in train.' Maruti told his parents as he played with the snippets of roti in his aluminum plate.

'bijnesh what bijnesh?' Hari, his father asked as Yamuna, his mother who had come to serve him roti, stood akimbo.

‘Our seven generations have worked at the construction sites. We know no other work. That is our traditional bijnesh and it is better that you stick to it.’ Hari said chewing his food and making munching sound in the process.

'Baba, times have changed and I have made my mind that I will not work on the site anymore.’ That was when the train announcement echoed. It was incomprehensible to lay ears. But Maruti had been hearing it all his life. Maruti now a strapping youth of twenty-two shoved his aluminum plate aside and scooted out of his shanty towards the railway track.

‘Maruti at least finish the roti in your plate.’ Yamuna said.

‘No amma, the train doesn’t wait for more than a minute at Mortaka station.’

‘Haan Haan as if I don’t know that the train doesn’t stop for more than a minute at Mortaka station. This boy and his fascination for trains. This train is a witch for sure, it has cast a spell on my child since he was an infant’ She said flattening the roti with both her hands and then darting a glance towards her husband she said, 'And why you had to oppose him. He is young blood. If he wouldn't try new things, who would? You and me?'

'But the whole bijnesh idea is risky. No one in our entire clan has had...'

Snapping him Yamuna said, 'There is no reward without risk. Besides he was born in a train. I am sure train mata will bless him in all his endeavours'

Women and their opinions. Yamuna who was cursing the trains was now calling it a Goddess. Poor Hari kept his mouth shut.

'Are you listening to what I am saying.' Yamuna's voice was raised.

'Yes, I will think over it.' Came Hari's reply.

Mocking her husband's accent she continued. 'I will think over it. My whole life I have been hearing it. Now this fellow has gone without eating his meals. Only a mother's heart knows what it is to see your son on empty stomach.'

Contrary to her belief, Maruti was enjoying the sight of the train with his half full stomach. This was his daily routine. He would be home for lunch by twelve in the noon and at twelve thirty sharp the Khandwa Indore passenger train would chug out of the Mortakka station. Maruti would shake his body and warm up his system as the train halted for a minute. As the train would trundle out of the station, he would take his position and race along with it. His legs were strong and sinewy. When he flitted one wondered if he was a man or a bird. He would run for five kilometres up to Khargone and then directly go to the place of his work. He worked as a construction worker in a new dharmashala that was coming up in Khargone. The tracks were visible from the construction site. The whole patch of land was devoid of any cover. There was no building, no tree not even a straw of grass that would obstruct the view of train tracks. Prancing like a school girl, teasing Maruti and at the same time enjoying her run, the train would slither away, giving a frisson of thrill to Maruti.

'So Maruti again today you won and the train lost.' Sharma the supervisor at the construction site said. Maruti wiped the sweat dripping from his body with his shirt.

'Maruti I tell you, you should compete in the Olympics. You will defeat Milkha Singh.' Sharma continued.

'Lala, you are making fun of a poor man.' An embarrassed Maruti said. Whatever it may be Sharma truly admired Maruti's running skills and his romance with the train.

Whenever any train passed, Maruti would halt for a moment and admire its beauty. The clickety clicking train with its rumbling, spinning wheels, whistle and the trail of smoke that the engine spewed and left back always had a magical pull on Maruti. Sometimes Sharma would join him in watching the train slid. 'So your second mother has left for the day.' Placing his hand on Maruti’s shoulder he would tease Maruti, for he knew that Maruti was born in a train compartment.

Twenty-three years ago when the narrow gauge railway line of Khandwa was stretched up to Mortaka and then Indore, Hari was a part of the team of labourers that were outsourced to lay tracks. Yamuna first came to Mortaka as a young bride. After a month of their marriage even Yamuna joined Hari in his work. She would carry loads of gravel on her head to the site. They were a happy couple and days would be spent laughing, chatting and merrymaking even amidst the back breaking labour. Soon Yamuna discovered that she was pregnant. A special request was made by all the workers to the supervisor, and Yamuna and Hari were alloted a discarded wagon to stay until Yamuna delivered her child. It was in this wagon that Maruti was born. Till date Maruti called it his house. Now the wagon was covered with slit and mud, and weeds had grown upon its roof. But for Maruti it was his birth place, his house.

When Maruti was growing up he didn’t have any playmates. Most of the men working at the site stayed away from their families and those who stayed at the site didn’t have any children of Maruti’s age. Yamuna and Hari didn’t have any money to buy toys for their son. So the only toys that Maruti had were the trains that trundled out of the station. He would dance in glee on seeing them. Hari would take him into his tow and get into the train as it momentarily halted at the Mortaka station. As the train would start he would jump on the other side of the track and Maruti would giggle. Sometimes a passenger or two would slide a toffee or a fruit on Maruti’s palm.

‘If someone voluntarily gives you anything accept it gratefully. But don’t ask for anything. We may be poor, but we are not beggars.’ Hari had told a young Maruti.

Finally when Hari was convinced by Yamuna that these moral values which he had cultivated in his son would ensure that Maruti would not stray in his bijnesh that he gave in. After all how long can an aging parent oppose his grown up son.

So Maruti started his business of selling tea in the trains. He loved the trains and his business. He loved to see the satisfaction on the faces of passengers when the malty brew reached their lips. One day when he entered the compartment all that he heard was an elderly woman having severe bouts of cough. He went to her seat and offered her a cup even before she had ordered for the same.

‘Where were you my son. I have been hankering for tea for a long time.’ The shrunken woman said.

‘Amma I came specially for you. But you know the train is so long. It took me a while to reach here.’ He quipped.

She sported a toothless smile. She stretched her hand and placed something on Maruti’s palms. Initially Maruti thought it was money. But it was something more. It was a small shiva lingam.

‘Keep this my son. I have got it from Amarkantak. It will bring barkat in your business.’

When Maruti showed the shivlingam to Yamuna, she touched it to her forehead and said ‘Shivlingams from Amarkantak are very holy, very powerful.’ She asked him to worship it daily.

But good fortune was the last thing that the lingam brought in Maruti’s life. Like every interesting story, a young beautiful girl appeared on the scene and brought the much needed twist in the tale. Her name was Sanchi and she was the new tea vendor on the trains. She was a girl and sold tea cheaper than Maruti. Obviously Maruti too had to slash his price, and his cash inflow dwindled. Initially whenever they, Maruti and Sanchi, crossed each other’s path, they would ignore each other, as if they had not seen the other person at all. But through his furtive glances Maruti had noticed Sanchi’s rosy complexion and almond shaped eyes. Slowly sparks flew, they started exchanging smiles and became friends.

‘See there is no point in eating each other’s business. Why don’t you sell pakodas’ He said to her one day.

‘But I don’t know anything apart from making tea.’ Sanchi said.

‘Why hasn’t your mother taught you how to make pakodas.’

‘I am an orphan.’ She said with moist eyes.

‘Then marry me. My mother makes the world’s best pakodas. She will sure teach you.’ He said.

So they got married. Now they had expanded their business. Maruti’s mother taught Sanchi to make pakodas and they sold pakodas in addition to the tea.

One evening after all their wares were sold Maruti and Sanchi stood at the door of the train compartment. The cool breeze that carried the fragrance of basmati caressed their faces. In such a romantic atmosphere Maruti kissed her hand and holding it close to his heart said, ‘You know what I love about the trains. It gave me everything from my birth to my bijnesh to my wife. I would have frozen to death if that wagon would not have been there. I would have made hand to mouth existence if I had worked on the site all my life and life would not have been beautiful, if you weren’t there. I have a dream. We will travel in first class compartment one day.' He said and Sanchi blushed.

Soon a son was born to the couple and they named him Sunny. Maruti would at times bring Sunny to his work. Like his father Sunny too loved the trains.

'Papa Dadima was telling that you would race with the trains. Will you teach me to run faster than trains.’

'What is the use my dear. I ran at the lightening speed and here I am selling tea on the tracks. Besides now trains run on broad gauge much faster than narrow gauge.' Maruti said with his wrinkled forehead. With Sunny’s birth the mouths to feed in the family had increased and Sanchi had taken a break from work post his birth. So Maruti was back to selling only tea as he could not manage selling tea and pakodas at the same time. He tried to persuade Sunny to give up the idea of running faster than trains. But have children ever succumbed to such logic. Soon Maruti started training Sunny. To his surprise he was still a great runner. Sunny had only one aim to run faster than the trains. Sunny practiced for years together. Having a worthy competitor is a prize in itself. You grow beyond your capacities even if you never win. That is what happened with Sunny. He was much faster than the boys of his age although he couldn’t match the speed of the train. Sunny was spotted by his sports teacher who took him under his wings. When in college Sunny won gold at the Asian Games and was offered the job of Ticket Collector with the Railways. Thanks to Sunny’s job that Maruti occasionally travels in first class, but he still sells tea and his romance with the trains continues. After all he is forever the boy who loved the trains.