DEMONSTRATIVE DEMONSTRATIONS

Our adventures in Gwalior don’t stop here. Tired from the tension and the roundtrips we had in the afternoon, we go back very early in the train station. As usual, we spend some time in the ladies waiting room, our feminine breathe in India, even though this time the lady in charge is really unfriendly, first because she doesn’t believe Perrine is a girl, then because we  have a low class ticket and this waiting room is meant for upper class ladies. Our white skins have made the trick for a while, but not so long… So we get out of there and wait on the platform. We seat on our bags and little by little we are surrounded by a bunch of young guys – probably students – who surprisingly have no bags or very small. We wonder why they are here, but well, there is no rule for having bags if travelling. But things get more bizarre as time goes. More and more of these men go on the tracks then off the tracks, their crowd grows bigger and bigger. As the train is expected and we hear the sound of the whistle, they all jump on the track and shout, while running all around. Realizing it is not the right train, they laugh and come back on the platform, exactly as they were few minutes before. We wonder more and more, what the hell is  this. Finally the train comes and the same choreography is performed. The rush is unbelievable. All these guys jump in the train and jam it full packed. We don’t know what is going on, if we could even get in and nobody is able or willing to give us a clue about the whole thing. After 15 minutes of this carnival, watching from back, we address some of these young people and they tell that if we have a ticket we should get in or sleep in the station. We get in, fighting for the entrance, not very proud and asking ourselves if it is a good idea at all. But we realize then that the train is actually almost empty, and very dirty. Two men with shooting gun are holding the guys out. Not a safe environment, and we are restlessly going to our seats to sleep. People are extremely calm around us, not bothered anyhow by the whole story. The train leaves under the shouts of the boys left out. Many security men go round the wagons, arms on the shoulder… We think however that things are over and we manage to start sleeping until we reach the next station. As the train stops, the shouts start and we hear violent banging against the doors, the  windows, the walls. Waouw. And this goes on again and again all night, whether we are in station or just in the middle of nowhere. It is a very difficult situation to handle when we have no idea about anything and the language prevents us to get any info. We sleep lightly that night and reaching Kota is a relief. When we ask later in Bundi if anything was told in the newspaper about demonstration or strikes, people cannot answer. Nothing was told about it. We search on internet but nothing there either. It is in Delhi that we finally find out that these types of events are regular and that probably those boys were paid to act this way by a political party. The elections are coming up  here and the right wing is pushing. Money is a way to get things done. This is a part of democracy, built on fear.