Thread by @Shayonnita15

To, the woman in black pants and a red blouse on my 10.45 Harbour Line Local.

Dear Stranger,

You are probably not on Twitter, and you will probably never see this—but I want to thank you.

Thank you for being vigilant, and careful and better than I could be.

1.

When I got on to the train at Sewri, I saw the bag. It was red and grey, worn out and was simply lying on the seat. From a front pocket a square piece of paper with a name in Devnagari and a number peeked out.

I asked the only other woman in the compartment if it was hers.

2

She shook her head and said no. "It was there before I got in."

As I sat, plugged back my earphones and restarted the YouTube video I had been watching, the "report all unidentified objects VO began playing in my head."

I knew I should do something, tell someone.

3.

The bad could have potentially contained explosives, drugs, something dangerous, or perhaps just books and a wallet that one Mumbaikar would be frantically searching for.

But the woman to my right did nothing. And so, nor did I.

It's probably nothing, I told myself.

4.

Probably just a forgotten bag. Why bother? Who cares?

You did.

You came in two stations later, with six other women. Everyone expressed their irritation at a random bag taking up space where a human could fit; tch-s of annoyance followed enquiries of, "Aapka hai kya?"

5.

I paused my video to contribute. Confusion reigned. You watched.

Then you got up. Leaving your things, you rushed to the door, scanning the platform. Whom were you looking for, I wondered? A railway officer?

You stepped off the train, and my heart lurched.

6.

What if the train left off before you returned?
It didn't.

Surely there were no officers to be found?
There were.

You came back within seconds with two railway policemen. You pointed at the bag. They nodded, asked a few questions, took it away.

7.

Now you sat back, plugged in your earphones and the train pulled away.

As we got off at Bandra, I caught your eye. It was a strange moment—the train groaning over the tepid Mahim creek, the Marathi "aparichit vastu" announcement playing—and I said thank you.

8.

You smiled like it was nothing.

It wasn't.

It was a reminder of why we need to care. It was a reminder that today my "who cares?" and "why bother?" is about an object on a train; but tomorrow it could be about corruption, a government, any level of wrong doing.

9.

It was a reminder that it is just a choice between a few seconds of unselfishness and a lethargic, "Eh, who cares?" that makes all the difference.

Thank you, stranger.

You have a good day.

Best,
A better me.

If you are still here, thank you for reading.

Please do not link this to the Uber incident. Driving a passenger to a police station for democratically dissenting and having a political opinion isn't vigilance, it's bigotry.