The Woman On Platform 8 (Supplementary)

Unit 1 – Supplementary

The Woman on Platform 8

Ruskin Bond

Section-I

It was my second year at boarding school, and I was sitting on platform no. 8 at Ambala station waiting for the northern-bound train. I think I was about twelve at the time. My parents considered me old enough to travel alone and I had arrived by bus at Ambala early in the evening. Now there was a wait till midnight before my train arrived.

Most of the time I had been pacing up and down the platform, browsing at the bookstall, or feeding broken biscuits to stray dogs. Trains came and went, and the platform would be quiet for a while and then, when a train arrived, it would be an inferno of heaving, shouting, agitated human bodies. As the carriage doors opened, a tide of people would sweep down upon the nervous little ticket-collector at the gate, and every time this happened I would be caught in the rush and swept outside the station.

Now tired of this game and of ambling about the platform, I sat down on my suitcase and gazed dismally across the railway tracks.

Trolleys rolled past me and I was conscious of the cries of the various vendors – the men who sold curds and lemon, the sweet-meat seller, the newspaper boy – but I had lost interest in all that went on along the busy platform, and continued to stare across the railway tracks, feeling bored and a little lonely.

“Are you all alone, my son?” asked a soft voice close behind me.

I looked up and saw a woman standing near me. She was leaning over, and I saw a pale face and dark, kind eyes. She wore no jewels, and was dressed very simply in a white sari.

“Yes, I am going to school,” I said, and stood up respectfully. She seemed poor, but there was a dignity about her that commanded respect.

“I have been watching you for some time,” she said. “Didn’t your parents come to see you off?”

“I don’t live here,” I said. “I had to change trains. Anyway, I can travel alone.”

“I am sure you can,” she said, and I liked her for saying that. I also liked her for the simplicity of her dress, her deep soft voice, and the serenity of her face.

“Tell me, what is your name?” she asked.

“Arun,” I said.

“And how long do you have to wait for your train?”

“About an hour, I think. It comes at twelve o’clock.”

“Then come with me and have something to eat.”

I was going to refuse out of shyness and suspicion, but she took me by the hand, and then I felt it would be silly to pull my hand away. She told a coolie to look after my suitcase, and then she led me down the platform. Her hand was gentle, and she held mine neither too firmly nor too lightly. I looked up at her again. She was not young, and she was not old. She must have been over thirty, but had she been fifty, I think she would have looked much the same.

She took me into the station dining-room, ordered tea and samosas and jalebies, and at once I began to thaw and take a new interest in this kind woman. The strange encounter had little effect on my appetite. I was a hungry schoolboy, and I ate as much as I could in as polite a manner as possible. She took obvious pleasure in watching me eat, and I think it was the food that strengthened the bond between us and cemented our friendship. Under the influence of the tea and sweets I began to talk quite freely, and told her about my school, my friends, my likes and dislikes. She questioned me quietly from time to time, but preferred listening; she drew me out very well, and I had soon forgotten that we were strangers. But she did not ask me about my family or where I lived, and I did not ask her where she lived. I accepted her for what she had been to me – a quiet, kind, and gentle woman who gave sweets to a lonely boy on a railway platform.

After about half-an-hour we left the dining-room and began walking back along the platform. An engine was shunting up and down beside platform no. 8 and, as it approached, a boy leapt off the platform and ran across the rails, taking a short cut to the next platform. He was at a safe distance from the engine, and there was no danger unless he had fallen; but as he leapt across the rails, the woman clutched my arm. Her fingers dug into my flesh, and I winced with pain. I caught her fingers and looked up at her, and I saw a spasm of pain and fear and sadness pass across her face. She watched the boy as he climbed the other platform, and it was not until he had disappeared in the crowd that she relaxed her hold on my arm.

She smiled at me reassuringly and took my hand again, but her fingers trembled against mine.

“He was all right,” I said, feeling that it was she who needed reassurance.

She smiled gratefully at me and pressed my hand. We walked together in silence until we reached the place where I had left my suitcase. One of my schoolfellows, Satish, a boy of about my age, had turned up with his mother.

Section-II

“Hello, Arun!” he called. “The train’s coming in late, as usual. Did you know we have a new Headmaster this year?”

We shook hands, and then he turned to his mother and said:

“This is Arun, mother. He is one of my friends, and the best bowler in the class.”

“I am glad to know that,” said his mother, a large imposing woman who wore spectacles. She looked at the woman who held my hand and said: “And I suppose you’re Arun’s mother?”

I opened my mouth to make some explanation, but before I could say anything the woman replied:

“Yes, I am Arun’s mother.”

I was unable to speak a word. I looked quickly up at the woman, but she did not appear to be at all embarrassed, and was smiling at Satish’s mother.

Satish’s mother said:

“It’s such a nuisance having to wait for the train right in the middle of the night. But one can’t let the child wait here alone. Anything can happen to a boy at a big station like this; there are so many suspicious characters hanging about. These days one has to be very careful of strangers.”

“Arun can travel alone, though,” said the woman beside me, and somehow I felt grateful to her for saying that. I had already forgiven her for lying; and besides, I had taken an instinctive dislike to Satish’s mother.

“Well, be very careful, Arun,” said Satish’s mother, looking sternly at me through her spectacles. “Be very careful when your mother is not with you, and never talk to strangers!”

I looked from Satish’s mother to the woman who had given me tea and sweets, and then back at Satish’s mother.

“I like strangers,” I said.

Satish’s mother definitely staggered a little, as obviously she was not used to being contradicted by small boys.

“There you are, you see! If you don’t watch over them all the time, they’ll walk straight into trouble. Always listen to what your mother tells you,” she said, wagging a fat little finger at me. “And never, never talk to strangers.”

I glared resentfully at her, and moved closer to the woman who had befriended me. Satish was standing behind his mother, grinning at me, and delighting in my clash with his mother. Apparently he was on my side.

The station bell clanged, and the people who had till now been squatting resignedly on the platform began hustling about.

“Here it comes,” shouted Satish, as the engine whistle shrieked and the front lights played over the rails.

The train moved slowly into the station, the engine hissing and sending out waves of steam. As it came to a stop, Satish jumped on the footboard of a lighted compartment and shouted:

“Come on, Arun, this one’s empty!”

I picked up my suitcase and made a dash for the open door.

We placed ourselves at the open windows, and the two women stood outside on the platform, talking to us. Satish’s mother did most of the talking.

“No, don’t jump on and off moving trains, as you did just now, and don’t stick your heads out of the windows, and don’t eat any rubbish on the way.”

She handed Satish a bag of fruit, a cricket bat, and a big box of chocolates, and told him to share the food with me. Then she stood back from the window to watch how my ‘mother’ behaved.

I was smarting under the patronizing tone of Satish’s mother, who obviously thought mine a very poor family; and I did not intend giving the other woman away. I let her take my hand in hers, but I could think of nothing to say. I was conscious of Satish’s mother staring at us with hard, beady eyes, and I found myself hating her with a firm, unreasoning hate.

The guard walked up the platform, blowing his whistle for the train to leave. I looked straight into the eyes of the woman who held my hand, and she smiled in a gentle, understanding way. I leaned out of the window then, and put my lips to her cheek, and kissed her.

The carriage jolted forward, and she drew her hand away.

“Goodbye, mother!” said Satish, as the train began to move slowly out of the station. Satish and his mother waved to each other.

“Goodbye,” I said to the other woman. “Goodbye, mother …”

I didn’t wave or shout, but sat still in front of the window, gazing at the woman on the platform. Satish’s mother was talking to her, but she didn’t appear to be listening; she was looking at me, as the train took me away. She stood there on the busy platform, a pale, sweet woman in white, and I watched her until she was lost in the milling crowd.

About the Author

Ruskin Bond is a short-story writer, novelist, and poet – the favourite writer of Indian children. His first novel, Room on the Roof, was published when he was still in his teens. This novel won him the John Rhys Memorial Award in 1957. He also writes about children and the simple hill folk of Uttarakhand.

Simplicity and fluency of language and an insight into human nature are hallmarks of his style. His major writings include An Island of Trees, A Bond with the Mountains, and The India I Love. He has also been honoured with the Sahitya Akademi Award for his contribution to Indian literature.

Glossary

Word	Meaning
inferno (n)	a place or situation that is too hot, chaotic, or noisy
heaving (v)	to raise or lift with force
dismally (adv)	cheerlessly
serenity (n)	the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled
encounter (n/v)	a brief or unexpected meeting
clutched (v)	grasped tightly
imposing (adj)	grand and impressive in appearance
embarrassed (adj)	self-conscious or ashamed
nuisance (n)	something causing inconvenience or annoyance
staggered (v)	walked or moved unsteadily
wagging (v)	moving rapidly to and fro
resentfully (adv)	feeling or expressing bitterness at unfair treatment
grinning (v)	smiling broadly
squatting (v)	crouching with knees bent and heels near the thighs
hustling (v)	pushing roughly; jostling
shrieked (v)	uttered a high-pitched piercing sound
patronizing (adj)	treating with apparent kindness that betrays a feeling of superiority
obviously (adv)	in a way that is clearly understood
jolted (v)	pushed abruptly and roughly

A. Choose the best answer.

1. Satish’s mother handed to her son ______.
   - c. big box of chocolates

2. The train was due at ______.
   - b. twelve o’clock

3. The strange lady gave ______ to Arun.
   - c. tea and samosas

4. Arun was sitting on platform ___.
   - b. no. 8

5. Satish and Arun were __ year-old boys.
   - a. 12

B. Match the following.

1. woman in white – dressed simply
2. train – waves of steam
3. bowler – Arun
4. Satish – boy of same age
5. spectacles – Satish’s mother

C. Identify the character.

1. “I am glad to know that.” – Satish’s mother
2. “Are you all alone, my son?” – the woman on platform 8
3. “Yes, I am going to school.” – Arun
4. “He is one of my friends.” – Satish
5. “Goodbye, mother.” – Arun

D. Answer the following questions.

1. Where was Arun sitting?
   On platform no. 8 at Ambala station.

2. What was the train due for arrival?
   At twelve o’clock midnight.

3. What were the things Arun noticed on the platform?
   Trolleys, vendors selling curds, lemon, sweet-meats, newspapers, and the constant rush of trains and passengers.

4. What did the vendors sell?
   Curds, lemon, sweet-meats, newspapers, etc.

5. How did the woman appear?
   Pale face, dark kind eyes, simply dressed in a white sari, dignified and calm.

6. Where was Arun travelling?
   To his boarding school (northern-bound train).

7. What did the woman buy for him?
   Tea, samosas, and jalebies.

8. What advice did Satish’s mother give?
   Not to jump on/off moving trains, not to stick heads out, not to eat rubbish, and never talk to strangers.

9. What were Arun’s last words?
   “Goodbye, mother …”

10. How did the woman react at the end?
    She stood quietly on the platform, looking at Arun until the train carried him away and she was lost in the crowd.

Step to Success – Sentence Rearrangement

Correct order: 2. DAEFCB

Connecting to Self

(Space left for student’s personal response.)

ICT Corner – Grammar: Noun

Visit: https://grammaropolis.com/noun.php
- Learn about nouns with examples.
- Take quizzes.
- Play games to reinforce learning.

Practice Practice Exercises

1. Satish's mother handed to her son .

a. bag of pencil

b. bag of vegetables

c. big box of chocolates

d. cricket ball

2. The train was due at .

a. one o’clock

b. twelve o’clock

c. two o’clock

d. eleven o’clock

3. The strange lady gave to Arun.

a. Coffee and vadai

b. tea and bajji

c. tea and samosas

d. black tea and cake

4. Arun was sitting on platform .

a. Number 7

b. Number 8

c. Number 4

d. Number 3

5. Satish and Arun were years old boys.

a. 12

b. 11

c. 13

d. 10

1. woman in white - Sathish’s mother

2. train - boy of same age

3. bowler - dressed simply

4. Satish - waves of stream

5. spectacles - Arun

1. I am glad to know that.

2. Are you all alone, my son?

3. Yes, I am going to school.

4. He is one of my friends.

5. Goodbye mother.

1. Where was Arun sitting?

2. What was the train due for arrival?

3. What were the things Arun had seen on the platform?

4. What did the vendors sell?

5. How did the woman appear?

6. Where was Arun travelling?

7. What did the woman buy for him?

8. What advice did Sathish’s mother give?

9. What were Arun’s last words?

10. How did the women react at the end?

1. D E F A C B

2. D A E F C B

3. A C F D E B

4. C F D A B E

5. F D A C E B

Will you ignore / take and give to the owner / take and keep it yourself.

Will you ignore / go and help him / stand watching him feeling shy to help

Will you ignore / try to stop them fighting / be afraid and go away from there.