Having 'Chocolates' On The Train

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Our city has often been defined by what happened in the train stations: frequent breakdowns, simulations of terrorist attacks, the human Tetris as people are pushed into spaces between bodies.

Today, yet another event happened - perhaps not that notable, perhaps not that breathtaking. It remains - strangely and hopefully - meaningful. It took place on the purple train line.

An old auntie supported by a walking stick boarded the carriage. She looked so frail, with a shock of white hair and veins showing on her arms.

On the nearest reserved seat, an old uncle, with an equally white tangle of hair, sat. A young woman - probably a stranger to him - was on the adjacent seat.

There was, of course, no obligation for them to give up their seats. The old uncle needed it. The young woman was not sitting at a reserved seat. She didn't have to give up her seat (and she didn't).

For a while, the old lady stood, one hand on the walking stick, another on the door support, her body quaking slightly. What could I do? The train was full and I was standing myself. Before I could decide, the old man stood up to give his seat to the old lady.

It was a swallow of hot chocolate, to see this old man give up his seat to an old lady.

At the same time, it was perturbing. Why didn't the young lady give up her seat? Was she pretending to be asleep? I shouldn't judge, I know, but I couldn't help it.

With a grateful nod, the old lady sat.

Then, the young woman woke up, perhaps disturbed by the movement around her. She quickly took in the scene, stood and offered her seat to that old man.

In this small corner of a carriage in a train that would make many more journeys even on this very day, people were smiling, some more subtly than the others.

Now, in front of the computer, I can't help thinking about this issue even though there is so much to do. Within two minutes, we can glimpse the past and future of our country.

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