My Head On Your Shoulder

Recently, I got on an early morning train at the Chennai Central. Still sleepy, I located my seat and dozed off even before the train had started. But it was not long before my sleep was interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. It was the girl sitting next to me. I heard her ask: “Can I rest my head on your shoulder?”

I was in a second class coach, where the seats accommodate three people comfortably but with no arm-rests in between. She was a young girl, probably half my age, and I could tell she had just got married, bedecked as she was in a silk saree, jasmine flowers, jewelry and mehndi . Her equally young and new husband was sitting on her other side. They seemed like the people of a small town or a village. In such places, it is not unusual for new couples to not interact with each other.

I said yes to the girl’s request. She promptly tilted her head on my shoulder and we both dozed off. After some time I heard a distant voice talking to that girl. Her parents who were sitting nearby must have gotten slightly concerned. They woke her (and me too in the process); she said sleepily, pointing at me “I had asked her”. That was enough explanation, met by accepting head waggles, and everyone went back to sleep again.

It was not until later, when I got off the train, did this event strike me as unusual. This girl’s simple human request illustrated for me a profound difference between the cultures of big cities and villages. She had a straightforward need that I could satisfy, and so she asked. Simply, just like that. No mental clutter of judgments and inhibitions of “appropriate” behavior of “cultured” city folks. Because of this encounter, will I be a little less inhibited when I am presented with similar opportunities of human interaction? I hope so.

-- Hema