(Bassed on real life experience)
It was the evening after Raksha Bandhan(an Indian festival). Since it was also a Sunday, the local train was unusually crowded. I was traveling from the city back to my hometown and had managed to find a seat.
Across from me sat a family. Two women were seated beside me, while another woman sat opposite with her young son, who looked about eight years old. A few other members of the same family were sitting nearby in the coach.
As more passengers boarded, the train became packed. Because the child was small, there was enough space on the seat for one more person to sit comfortably. Many passengers approached and politely asked whether the seat was available.
Each time, the family gave the same response:
"The boy is not feeling well."
I found the excuse difficult to believe, but as a silent observer, there was little I could do.
At the next station, some passengers got off and many more boarded. Among them was a woman traveling with her two children—a daughter of about twelve and a younger son. Unable to find a place to sit, they stood near our seats.
After noticing the available space, the woman asked if she could sit.
The request was refused.
What began as a simple conversation soon turned into an argument. Voices grew louder. Within minutes, other members of the family gathered around and joined the dispute. The entire coach had now become an audience to the scene.
The woman stood there alone with her two children.
No one spoke on her behalf.
Yet there was something remarkable about her expression. Beneath the frustration, I could see courage. The kind of courage that appears when someone stands up for what they believe is right, even when they have nobody supporting them.
Eventually, one of the family members called another woman from the crowd and offered her the seat, claiming that it had been reserved for her all along.
The argument ended there.
A little later, the woman and her children reached their destination and left the train.
What happened next caught my attention.
The family began discussing the incident among themselves.
"If she had spoken politely," one of them said, "we would have given her the seat."
I listened quietly and wondered:
Would they really have done that?
Or is that something people often say after they have already won the argument?
I may never know the answer.
But the incident left me thinking.
In life, we often find ourselves needing something that is in someone else's possession—whether it is a seat, an opportunity, a favor, or even respect. In such situations, our words become our most powerful tools.
Anger, force, and aggression can sometimes produce immediate results. Yet they often create new enemies and leave lasting resentment behind.
Patience and dialogue, on the other hand, may take longer. But when they succeed, they create understanding instead of hostility.
This reminded me of the principle of Ahimsa, or non-violence, most closely associated with Mahatma Gandhi. Non-violence is not merely the absence of physical force. It is the belief that persuasion, patience, and human connection can often achieve what confrontation cannot.
Consider a simple example.
Imagine I own two goats, and a child in my village becomes fond of one of them.
The child has two choices.
He can steal the goat.
Or he can visit regularly, talk to me, help me when needed, and gradually earn my trust.
If he steals it, I will spend my time looking for him. I will remain angry. If I find him, I will try to take back what is mine.
But if he earns my trust and one day I willingly give him the goat, the situation changes completely.
The goat becomes his, and there is no bitterness between us.
That, perhaps, is the difference between force and persuasion.
Force may secure possession.
But only goodwill secures acceptance.
That day on the train, I witnessed more than an argument over a seat.
I witnessed a small reflection of human nature itself.
And perhaps that is one of life's simplest truths:
Sometimes victory does not belong to the person who speaks the loudest.
It belongs to the person who possesses the greatest patience.
About the Author
Lalit Kumar Rathor is the founder of Lalit Dairies and writes about philosophy , psychology,life lessons,Rajasthan's history, culture, heritage, and geography