The dhad, dhad, dhad … got compressed to a quick and synchronized sound to indicate that the train was tearing through darkness, distance and time.  Yes it was well past midnight.  The lights in the entire 2nd AC Sleeper compartment were switched off, excepting for the ones on either side situated near the toilets.   Covered in dust and woodles of cobwebs the rays from the dim lights made attempts to reach out to each other some where in the middle of the compartment with no success however.

The passengers were fast asleep as could be made out from the medley of snoring to be occasionally invested with a variation by a hiccup here and clearing of throat there.  In such silent situation, I was amazed to see a well-dressed man in safari suit and neatly polished brown shoes – looking more like an ‘active’ executive in the board room rather than a ‘retiring’ passenger, making numerous trips to the toilet, picking something from an open box on one of the upper berths.  In normal circumstances I will have dismissed it as the ‘occupational hazards’ of a diabetic or an amaebiotic.  But then this man was as fresh as a lilly with neither crumple on his dress nor any other signs, which one normally associates with some one who has made it to the loo and back.  I knew it had more to do than mere biological dropping.