OPINION: A lady and a marijuana smoking chap

I was in a train.

I had a small luggage which kind of blocked the passage and the opposite seat. But a lady in casual clothing waved me away.

“Do, NOT, worry.”

She had a gentle face and mannerisms. Bless her. I find casually dressed individuals tend to be easy going. Few years ago I perched next to a very well attired woman. Executive stuff. Her aroma was fresh and you could count lots of money on it. There was a bag between her and me and as I squeezed into my seat – she gave me one of those looks that seem to deliver an unexpected, free heart attack. Whooee!

Not funny. Not funny at all.

Some writers say “the heart skipped a beat...” which is a serious statement. This was a very crowded train. Rush hour. Folks returning from jobs. In such circumstances, bodies of strangers pushing against yours, is as normal as yawning. But, like one of my grandparents used to say “there is always one...” Meaning out of twenty patient fellow travellers, there will always be someone feeling air deprived. The type that does NOT see the big picture.

Lady glared at me: “You are hurting me...”

I could not glare back. It would invite confrontation.

I checked other puzzled passengers, now, thinking I had punched her.

DID YOU HEAR ME? YOU ARE HURTING ME!

It was her huge bag positioned between her ribs and my jacket.

I pointed at the bag.

That made things worse.

ARE YOU MAD?

So what do you do? Big cities have their codes. You either avoid trouble or you copy male goats and sheep. Ever seen a fight between a billy and a ram? He-goat (billy), versus he- sheep (ram) is the funniest spectacle. I remember watching such a duel as a young boy. My mates and I were rushing to school. Aged eight, nine years, approx. We were late to school and got into real trouble.

But the sticks and strokes on our backs were worth the fun.

Both animals matched opposite each other, backwards, with the ram trekking the farthest, to gain momentum; then rushed forward to butt and slam skulls. Now that is funny. But the funnier side is when they missed heads and the ram went scuttling down the bushes. He would charge back- even angrier - as Mr Goat waited eagerly. Then miss again. This left us in tears. We laughed until we had to urinate in the banana trees.

Ah, the joy of living in rural areas!

Five decades later when I narrated this story to city and urbanised children and youth, they could not grasp the comedy. At least not immediately. Until they watched 21st century clips on You Tube then the tale made sense.

Ha! Ha! Ha!

Avoiding (billy- ram boxing), is, subsequently, supreme.

I stood up and left my complaining travelling, enraged, companion.

Now.

The lady sitting opposite me was not expensively dressed. And this did not mean she was poor. Some people just dress down, to borrow an English expression.

She was polite and smiled and went on reading her newspaper.

On and on the train rattled and clanked.

Next stop someone on our large seat stepped out. So there was a space. A young black man, grabbed the opportunity, came and sat down.

He had a plastic bag, and in his fingertips, a half burning joint (i.e. spliff, weed, cannabis or Marijuana) – which is not odd in London today. The scent was as obvious as rain and sun, dear Lord. He puffed once, squeezed the ember with his thumb, and then coughed. Then belched. As he bent down, some continuous harsh noise was escaping from the massive plastic bag, tucked under his legs.

Sshhhhhhsshshshshshshshshsh...

I checked him out. He was thin, weary looking, with black tussled hair and seemed drunk, high, or both.

SHSHSSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH...

The casually dressed lady opposite was genuinely bothered.

“What is that please?”

My head was screaming too. Bomb? Radio? Transmitter?

The young chap was busy trying to open something he had retrieved from his plastic bag. Soft bundle of paper. He ravaged through with his teeth. Smell of food...

SHSSSHSHSHSHSHSH

Casual lady was getting really restless.

Could you turn it off please!

From behind a middle aged white man stood up.

TURN THAT OFF, PLEASE?

The young man switched off the gadget. One of those tiny but powerful speakers used for phones these days. Boosters.

Then, in between chewing, he bent down to cough. Tiny pellets of food scattered everywhere.

I reached my destination. The lady looked really ruffled. I touch her shoulder. Signal her to go to another seat, behind us...

She smiled.

Yes.

The state of people’s mental health, drugs and so on can be reflected on London public transport.

Each day.

Everywhere.

Not funny.