A Chance Encounter

 

& A Friendship

We had exactly three minutes to jump onto a crowded train from an even more crowded platform. 

This was the new Vande Bharat, bullet train from Surat to Mumbai, and two of us were returning home after an official school visit. As the train snaked out of the platform, the passengers who had scrambled on wherever possible, settled into their seats. This is India – new advanced trains, in the same old decrepit, dirty and smelly platforms and railway stations. We move at the pace of a slow train as the country progresses.

My colleague turned to me and whispered, “which country are they from, what do you think?” looking at a couple across the aisle from us. 

“Somewhere in Europe,” said I, sitting one seat away near the window, “but I cannot hear what they are saying very well, so I cannot discern the language.”

The two hours in the train sped by at almost the same speed as the train, and my colleague had to disembark at a station before me. As he got ready to leave, he kindly brought my bag down from the overhead storage, and I moved to his aisle seat. The European lady across us looked a little nervous, and asked gently, “do we have to also start getting ready to leave the train?”. 

“No,” said I, there is one more stop! If you are getting down at Mumbai Central.”

“Si, yes”

Listening to the accent, I asked, “are you Italian?”

“YES” came the answer!

“I was in Milan recently.”

“Oh, we are both from Milan. What were you doing there?”

“My dearest friend, Carla used to live in Rho, outside Milano, but now lives in the city near Porta Venezia. In via Lecco”

Four decades of memories came tumbling into the labyrinth of my mind. Complete strangers connected for the next half hour. We shared our stories, but not our names.

"Ah,via Lecco we live close to San Babila. I am a lawyer; my husband is a music producer. My mother taught English in Tuscany.”

Oh, my word, I was transported back to walking those streets a couple of months ago. And here I was in a train, bringing back images of all the spaces I had been in.

I love Milan, and used to visit often. Carla and I both lived in the same dormitory in the USA in the early ‘80s. We shared our courses and our lives. For me, I liked taking a break in Italy when I traveled home – it is culturally in between USA and India. Her family is like my family. They held me safe as I traversed the two different cultures.

I went to visit Carla recently after many years. We had grown in age and experience. The warmth and care remained exactly the same from the moment we met at Malpensa Airport and took the train to the station, Cardona.

The conversation flowed easily between the two of them and me.

I too have a friend who lives in America, who comes to visit me as well. We visited Rajasthan some years earlier, but this time we went south and to Mumbai. We love India. We love the food.

Yes, even though I do not eat meat anymore, this time I had to have prosciutto! It is a memory. The first time I visited Carla, her mother made me pesto and served prosciutto and melone as the prima piatti and for me this last trip was a walk down memory lane.

My husband is from Napoli, and we cannot wait to return on Sunday, and make spaghetti pommodore, we have it stored in bottles – fresh from his mother down south.

How I love Italian food. This visit for me was like going home – I cooked dal and vegetables for Carla and she made me risotto, gnocci, polenta, fish, tiramisu and all the things I love. And of course, I had so much of the fresh fruits and vegetables in season. We did go out for meals, but we were recreating our past moments together.

We too have eaten very well in India. We love the food and vegetables, and of course, the butter naan. We have had a thali, with the traditional food, and tonight we are going to Trishna for a fish dinner. Any recommendations?

Trishna is absolutely a great choice. Have the tandoori pomfret.

Where all did you visit in Milan?

Oh – I walked the streets. It has such a lovely combination of modern streets and traditional neighborhoods. I loved the museums – Brera, Duomo, Galleria de’Arte Moderne, Gallerie Italia, and I was fortunate to see a Munch and a Picasso exhibition at Palazzo Real.

The man intervened, “we have not visited Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper yet.”

The lady replied, "every time I try, I do not get a time slot. It is always so booked up. But yes, one day, we will, we must."

I feel so fortunate – I have been to see the Last Supper, and even then, I had to make a booking!

And we continued with words, with phrases, at a rapid speed, keeping time with the train – buying groceries at Esselunga, making Italian coffee in a Bialetti, Indian tea, the differences, the similarities, the chaos, the warmth, the culture, the people, the beauty, the countries, separated by geography, united with a human connection. 

For me, going to Italy is like going home! Carla has lived in the same apartment for the past three decades. It is my emotional connect – to a friend, to a family, who took me in. Language was no barrier, our shared experience in the USA may have started the friendship, but the travel cemented the bond!

And here I was babbling away with two strangers and sharing an experience, mine across the oceans, theirs in the here and now. They had one more day to relish all that India has to offer them. 

As we reached the station, I politely asked if they needed a ride to their hotel. 

No, we have organized a car.

Sensible.

Yes, we feel very safe in India, despite what other people may have said. This time we only had two weeks of leave, but we hope to come back again, and again, and again…..

Just like, I have and I will, visit Italy time and again.

Ciao – piacere is what I said at the final station. Goodbye, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.

As they moved into the night and the crowds in the station engulfed them, I went home. It was just thirty minutes of a conversation, but I am still embraced with the warmth and compassion for each other, our countries, our culture, our food. It is the people and the persons. It matters not that I do not know their names, or that I may most probably never meet them ever again.

Those thirty minutes summed up the years of my connection to a place I love, to people I love, and a friend who has shared my life, and will share this story too!