Incensed, I shoved the men out of the way, grabbing them by shirt collars, and hurling them aside with the strength that swarms into the arms of righteous anger. Prabaker swung his feet to the floor, and I sat down beside him. A brawl started at once for the remaining space on the seat. The porter dumped the luggage at our feet. His face and hair and shirt were wet with sweat. He gave Prabaker a nod, communicating his respect. It was fully equal, his glaring eyes left no doubt, to the derision he felt for me.
Then he shoved his way through the crowd, roaring insults all the way to the door.
"How much did you pay that guy?"
"Forty rupees, Lin."
Forty rupees. The man had battled his way into the carriage, with all of our luggage, for two American dollars.
"Forty rupees!"
"Yes, Lin," Prabaker sighed. "It is very expensive. But such good knees are very expensive. He has famous knees, that fellow. A lot of guides were making competition for his two knees. But I convinced him to help us, because I told him you were-I'm not sure how to say it in English-I told him you were not completely right on your head."
"Mentally retarded. You told him I was mentally retarded?"
"No, no," he frowned, considering the options. "I think that stupid is more of the correctly word."
"Let me get this straight-you told him I was stupid, and that's why he agreed to help us."
"Yes," he grinned. "But not just a little of stupid. I told him you were very, very, very, very, very-"
"All right. I get it."
"So the price was twenty rupees for each knees. And now we have it this good seat."
"Are you all right?" I asked, angry that he'd allowed himself to be hurt for my sake. "Yes, baba. A few bruises I will have on all my bodies, but nothing is broken."
"Well, what the hell did you think you were doing? I gave you money for the tickets. We couldVe sat down in first or second class, like civilised people. What are we doing back here?"
He looked at me, reproach and disappointment brimming in his large, soft-brown eyes. He pulled a small bundle of notes from his pockets, and handed it to me.
"This is the change from the tickets money. Anybody can buy first-class tickets, Lin. If you want to buy tickets in first class, you can be doing that all on yourself only. You don't need it a Bombay guide, to buy tickets in comfortable, empty carriages. But you need a very excellent Bombay guide, like me, like Prabaker Kishan Kharre, to get into this carriage at VT.
Station, and get a good seats, isn't it? This is my job."
"Of course it is," I softened, still angry with him because I still felt guilty. "But please, for the rest of this trip, don't get yourself beaten up, just so that I can have a goddamn seat, okay?"
He reflected for a moment with a frown of concentration, and then brightened again, his familiar smile refulgent in the dimly lit carriage.
"If it is absolutely must be a beating," he said, firmly and amiably negotiating the terms of his employment, "I will shout even more loudly, and you can rescue my bruises in the nicks of time. Are we a deal?"
"We are," I sighed, and the train suddenly lurched forward and began to grind its way out of the terminus.
In the instant that the train started on its journey, the gouging, biting, and brawling ceased completely and were replaced by a studied and genteel courtesy that persisted throughout the entire journey.
A man opposite me shifted his feet, accidentally brushing his foot against mine. It was a gentle touch, barely noticeable, but the man immediately reached out to touch my knee and then his own chest with the fingertips of his right hand, in the Indian gesture of apology for an unintended offence. In the carriage and the corridor beyond, the other passengers were similarly respectful, sharing, and solicitous with one another.
At first, on that first journey out of the city into India, I found such sudden politeness infuriating after the violent scramble to board the train. It seemed hypocritical for them to show such deferential concern over a nudge with a foot when, minutes before, they'd all but pushed one another out of the windows.
