It's Sunday. I made myself awake at 6:30 AM and got ready for another regular trip to the work I'm not proud of doing, but still doing to provide some sort of sustainability for my livelihood? I find it important to be fed and have a roof above my head. And it's winter. Sleeping under the big blue sky is considered rather tragic than romantic at this period of the year.
I take the first train from Nijmegen in direction to Roermond at 7:38 AM as usual, and expect my 15 minute ride also to go as usual. While I'm still in my sleeping mode I'm listening to cheerful and energizing music tracks and getting emotionally ready for my daily 10 km cycling activity to work. I think about the weather and whether the wind today blows with me or against me, as it greatly determines the longevity of my daily cycling trip to work. It also determines the level of my annoyance that greatly depends on whether the wind holds extras with it in form of rain or snow.
Today the train is more empty than usual. It seems like there were no big events for partying in Nijmegen last night, as I do not see the usual amount of tired young people, stinking of alcohol and sharing low-quality information among each other. Maybe the fact that in the beginning of this week every little village in the Netherlands has celebrated and participated in carnival festivities serves as a reason why there are not many people on the train this morning. I presume that people have spent enormously lot of money on alcoholic beverages in different public places during the carnival days. That's what I've heard. So it's time to slow down now and save up for the next big drinking event, probably King's day in April or even Vierdaagse in July (i.e. Four-day march).
While in my regular sleeping mode, I notice that the train starts to break where it should actually go full speed as we left Nijmegen-Heyendaal station and entered the relatively longer rail track to Mook-Molenhoek surrounded mainly by wild nature that reminds sort of forest. The train horns loud while it slows down. It hits something and the whole train shakes a bit. Then it fully stops and doesn't move anymore. It has hit something and we all felt it. The very few people that are in the train together with me suspect that something has happened, they deliberately wake up from their thoughts, wherever those have been. And then the world around becomes more visible - there's something going on right here and right now. The driver comes out of his cabin and tells us that he has hit a person. He goes to check outside. He comes back in a short while and informs that he sees nothing, the person must be under the train. He says it was a suicide.
The train doesn't move, the very few passengers start to talk to each other. The jobs are called individually and told that the persons involved in this accident will be late. The Police and other rescue or investigative services arrive. The time goes. It's already 8:30 AM. I am 100% sure that I am late for work. I call the responsible HR manager, but instead of a possible talk I am redirected to Voicemail. I understand it is early time-wise. I shortly describe what has happened and that my arriving time to work is not clear either. It stresses me out that things are unorganized and that I cannot reach anyone in this particular case of emergency, neither any of my colleagues whose phone numbers I have. It means I need to get to work anyway at any time I can. My sense of responsibility is still strong and unaffected by the possible psychological trauma that I could get from this incident. I do not yet suspect that it might even kick in. I do not like the fact of being late.
It's almost 1,5 hours since the accident took place and the train is still not moving. My sleepy mode is fully gone and I am very alert of the accident that has just happened. I start to wonder who was the person that has planned this perfect Sunday for his/her getaway? Perfect in a sense that there would be no major fuss about being late somewhere as it would be if the train hit a person in a rush hour. I wonder how the driver of the train feels. He's seen it, and he could not stop this deliberate tragedy that happened in front of his eyes. He tried to stop it, but it was too late, too late, too late. Is he now considering himself a murderer? Is he now placing himself among the people that do it voluntarily or professionally? Will he be able to drive a train again? Will he be able to cope with the fact that he could do nothing and let it happen? Will he ever accept that it was not his fault? Will he ever stop imagining alternative scenarios of the event in which he would be able to prevent the accident?
The news report on Nijmegen's nieuws portal is scarce and only informs about a person clashing with a train. Gone dead immediately. Nothing more. A person with no indications of age, gender or nationality, nothing of characterizing features that would contribute a new set of empirical data to on-going academic researches in this field. Nothing. Was it a 16 year old girl that got to know she's pregnant? Was it a business-man in his productive years that just went bankrupt? Was it a guy or a girl overwhelmed with today's society's ill obsession of consumerism where higher values mean nothing (well, while living in the First World country after all that might be an issue)? Was he or she diagnosed with AIDS or cancer? Was it the big love that you lost and could not cope with the consequences anymore? What was the pain that got you do it? What was the pain that made the decision that your 21 grams* should leave this world? But you're gone, man! Gone silently like you wanted it. On this yet sleepy, ordinary Sunday 22nd. You have obtained your freedom that you craved for so much, unfortunately in different worlds than the visible, usual, ours.
Self-reflection kicks in against my will. I wonder 'why do people live and why do they die?' and 'why am I actually living?' Maybe I already should be under the train too, maybe we should have done it together? But NO, it never crossed my mind to end life like this. Maybe I just haven't lost the hope yet. The hope that the life will get better some day soon and that I will find my ways to make the world a better place, that I will find a job I love and am proud of doing, that I will be mostly surrounded by open-minded people and far away from the narrow-minded ones that force their anti-immigration attitudes towards me and categorize me according to these attitudes, that I'll be able to trust a man and love again? Yeah, it is the hope that keeps me going. So I will move on, but I feel sad for you, the person that was hit by the train, as the news called you. I feel sad that you lost the hope. Very, very sad.
It's 10 AM and the trains start to go on a regular schedule. Everything is back to normal. No delays anymore and 'Veolia Transport wenst u een prettige dag'**
* MacDougall scientifically proved that at the moment of death, a human body loses 21 grams in weight that is also represented as a departure of the soul.
** Veolia Transport wishes you a pleasant day (in Dutch)
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