UB 14 and SU 16

On the train to Hyderabad.  I think we are about 1/3 of the way and this is the first time it's been truly unpleasant.  I'm perched up on a top bunk above my day seat, SU 16, where a fat disrespectful lying man took up residence and refused to move to his own seat since we boarded. I don't think he has a seat as all the other seats in the compartment are accounted for. I was sitting across the aisle with B, in UB 14, but the train filled up at the lunch time stop and everyone was squishing in.  Not the least because one lady on a middle bunk decided to sleep, which meant letting the bed platform down, making the day sitting area too short to sit in.  Six people sit facing each other on two, three people benches.  These become the bottom bunks, then the second bunk folds ups; night - which I am sure even in India is not 11 am.  Anyway so 'fat boy slim' then complains cause my booted feet are hanging over the edge and he can see them ... is offended by them ... he's a misogynist ... all off the above?  I admit I'm kind of happy to be dangling my train toilet urine soaked soles in his face!  Anyway at this point I snap.  He is in my seat.  The reposing woman is making three B's age and older men sit on the edge of a train bench with their necks crunched over ... and I'm the problem!!??

B chooses this moment to make a charge on his horse and charade/Hindi my chagrin to them all, and the woman shuffles and snorts off the bunk.  The crowd of gentlemen return it to upright and everyone takes a seat.  I decline an offer to alight from my tower, preferring to stay out of the line of fire.  A young girl has also climbed to safety on another top bunk.  My peaceful warrior, however, is on a mission and does a head count.  Ten into eight bunks won't go.  It's supposed to be three deep along the triple side and double along the aisle.

Some more Hinglish and another interloper confesses, pointing to his bunk on a top shelf in the next compartment.  Still it's going to be 9 into 8, and fat boy is squatting firm as the sun sets.  B confirms his spot, I've got my bunk, and he says they'll work it out.  I've told B that at the end of the day, literally, it's just not fair on all the other people because of him, fat boy, and I'm just really disappointed.

B has told ME to 'Just let it go, honey,' and has moved on to try to convince the other passengers, all locals, not to throw their rubbish out the window into their living room.  Only 14 more hours til Hyderabad.  Dream on Peaceful Warrior.

Yeah! I'm just loving India today. I want to go home!

Postscript:

"You haven't taken a yoga picture."

"What do you suggest?"

Contorted between four of our bags, and our carefully bagged rubbish, the pose was obvious.

Sleep came, strangely, and we left the minions to battle it out on the lower levels.  Spiritual karma?  Fat boy spent the night sharing SL15 with its rightful occupant, a large Muslim man, who rotated his patch with his Muslim brothers, every six hours to offer their prayers.  Plus he had an hour of three way debate, with Buddhist B also perched on the seat with Muslim SL15, and the middle aged Hindu man across the aisle discussing the differences in philosophy regarding the eating of meat.

Morning brought a whole new set of challenges as the great unticketed and unwashed continued to cram onto the train every time it slowed down.  A lone conductor appeared and took a random sampling of tickets.  Must have only been a pilot study.

I deigned to ask, "Who are all these people?  They have no tickets!" And again somehow I was behaving inappropriately.

Advice from Brian, "Just get ready to shove people out of the way when we get to Hyderabad."