RPF- Railway Protection Force

While recently travelling from Chennai by train, I met an interesting RPF person [Indian Railway Protection Force]. About 28 years old, he stood near the open door of the compartment carriage. It is common practice in India to stand near the doorway, so that one can enjoy the breeze.

He struggled to speak in English, and spoke in a mixture of two more languages, Telugu with a sprinkling of Hindi. The output was amusing and had freshness in communication. He told me about his duties. He had to ensure that the railways schedules did not suffer setbacks due to mischievous elements.  He had to protect the properties of the railway .He had to protect the passengers and their belongings from thieves.

He said there were many burglars, who killed unsuspecting passengers with knives. Some of them mixed sedatives in tea and cool drinks, posing to be vendors and looted the travelers of their valuables. Sometimes he had to beat up the miscreants, blue and black, to punish them for their anti social activities.  He looked like a very kind person. I could not imagine that he could really hit the thugs.

As he was narrating these, I watched his expressions. As the wind blew on his face, his straight hair flew back. He was good looking, wheatish in complexion, had a sharp nose, and bright expressive eyes.  There was a smile always lurking in his eyes. Dressed in clean khaki uniform, polished brown shoes and belt, he looked fit and healthy.

I inquired about his family. His elder brother, married ,was in IT, in Bengaluru. He was staying with his parents in his head quarter, in Andhra Pradesh. He too was married and had a three-year-old son. He was straightforward by nature, and never took any bribes. His salary was meager, and he found it very difficult to make ends meet. Even in a small town, the house rentals were Rs.5000 per month. A visit to the movies and a hotel, meant an expenditure of Rs.500. `To add misery to gloom his father, “ Sincerely drank at least eight large every day.”

His tough job and soft nature were sometimes contradicting. This made him sad. Due to this, he felt disturbed and could not get deep sleep. He also wanted to improve his spoken English skills. He asked me for advice. For improving his English, I recommended that he start with first standard textbook and slowly work his way to higher classes textbooks.

I also asked him to come to terms with his job functions. I suggested a cleansing process. I asked him do the cleansing as the last activity before he fell asleep.  The technique was to take an inhalation and as he exhaled, imagine that all misconceptions, tension, traumas, negativities and sadness were leaving from his back in the form of grey smoke. Known as cleaning the emotional waste paper basket, this technique restores peace and harmony within.

He promised to try it. His station arrived. He got down, thanking me whole-heartedly for the kind counseling.

He flashed one of his brilliant smiles, and with a wave of hand disappeared into the crowd in the railway platform.