Water marshals and watery graves by Puneet Rajhans

Water marshals and watery graves

As one boards a long distance train, the thoughts of confining yourself to long hours doesn’t pinch you. Nor the fact, implicit in the train ride, that the journey would see a large number of unscheduled stoppages leading to prolonged delays. To be fair enough the acrimony builds up and sets in when you have unwarranted visits from vendors of bottling plants. What can make you seethe with anger and contempt is the repeated intrusion into your privacy by bottlewallahs, who troop in and out of your coach as and when they desire. A watery train of thought? Most likely.
As if the thick sheets of rain that lashed the TPT station (with thick burst of water from rooftops and adjoining places) was not enough you are told to brace yourself for more water propelled moments. It is watery cocktail of options and nothing else.
Exasperated at not finding the right quantity and quality of water at TPT station, the people had no other leeway other than take the bottle in their stride. What deprived them of their water rights at the station was a passenger of a lost and found tribe (representing the water mafia group), who wasn't willing to settle for anything less than three big jars of water from taps in the station. A prolonged affair, he didn't give a damn to the hooting coming from all directions. Mission done, he boarded the train. Perhaps the watery tale had begun to take roots from there itself.
Seeing all this passengers on board had willingly submitted themselves to an ensuing watery battle of a different nature, lest they could be deprived of their rights here as well. No protestations from fellow passengers made them see reason. "The water bottle in your possession had already been through a series of hard fought battles. Before reaching you, the bottle would have changed several hands; the seal being tampered at each new outing and being restored later. So the drop you get isn't the first to be." As such explanations were flung around, the 'committed' passengers did not want to hand over the turf to the mafia man this time.
As the train moved with no signs of rain receding, poodles of water had collected at vantage points of the coach known to water marshals (a hole had been punched to ensure an unrestricted delivery) and they had been told to make most of the situation. Would this have required some sort of innovation to see this excess being placed in the bottles which were being emptied by the passengers the very moment they took one? Perhaps the water marshals (essentially hailing from water bottling plants) scouted for such opportunities to let their innovation take effect in a running train.
Meanwhile, the ticket examiners as well as water marshals were showing up now and then at the place where the water mafia rep was seated. There were more than handshake moments with him as he had valid reasons to board the train despite having no valid ticket. Here he was with his big jars to transport the content to as many bottles as possible, with the rider that two bottles would be dispensed with for the price of one. To get this enterprise moving the ticket examiner's role was to accommodate all waitlisted passengers who took the water battle to its logical end. Thus, passengers were more than willing to literally throw themselves at vendors selling water as it was a passport to a confirmed seat and sighting.
The coach where i was seated saw the vendors making rounds every time the train approached a station, had an unscheduled stop, or going full throttle for a longer session. With six hours left for the train to complete its journey, a new order was to come into effect. The water mafia man proposed the same. Since the big jars had still enough life (water) in them he told the water marshals to dispense the remaining lot at prices quoted by passengers.
As a result, there was pandemonium with passengers queuing up to get their share of water bottles to take home where this enterprise could be tried later.
Well the mafia man had no ticket and yet he had a smooth ride. For passengers like us who had waitlisted tickets but not enough to splurge on battles of water, the TTE was in no mood to oblige us in the chair car. The rationale: Bring water jars on board to get a smooth ride. Further the TTE's hostility stemmed from the fact that he hadn't had the requisite water in the morning to take bath at home; perhaps a reminder that whenever and wherever we travel as a tourist we should bring our own water on board lest people like ticket examiner are deprived of their morning showers in the places they reside.