Dud Sea Scrawls The Writing, clearly, is not on the wall!

I was travelling to Mumbai by the Sinhgad Express on Saturday. I must make a confession here. I LOVE TRAINS. When I say that, I really mean it. They kind of make me mushy and sentimental inside. Everytime a train passes, you can be sure there is a big lump stuck in my throat. I must have been a train driver or a station master in my previous life. I swear, I wouldnt mind becoming one in this life either.
In school, I was an active participant in a campaign which my biology teacher had spiritedly started to clean up the trains which ran between Pune-Mumbai. This history coupled with my undying love for trains was responsible for quite a drama unfolding during my above mentioned trip.
Sitting beside me was a lady in the finest of kanjeevarams cooing to her seven-eight year old son in English about his school, friends and life in general. All was fine and dandy till an unwise decision on the lady’s part to buy jellysweets for her kid. Now, I have nothing against them only the waste from such things always end up on the floor of the train, the streets of the city and the gardens in my society.
Anyway, more unwise than the lady’s action of buying the sweets and throwing wrappers in and out of the train, was mine. I was determined to give her a piece of my mind. With my first protest, this was the lady’s clever answer, “India is a free country and everybody is free to do as they choose.”
Well she bowled me over with that logic. Litterally!