Once upon a time, in a train bound for Bangalore, an ordinary journey turned into a hilarious adventure that no one could have predicted. I was traveling with my dad, niece and Shakthi, all set for a visit to our seafood-loving aunt in Bangalore. Little did we know that this trip would be filled with crustacean chaos!

When we planned the trip, my father had a brilliant idea. He decided to surprise his niece (my aunt) with some live crabs, her absolute favourite seafood. He bought live crabs and stowed them away in a bamboo basket, snugly placing it beneath our train seats. Excitement filled the air as we neared Arakkonam, but little did they know that the crabs had their own plans.

Suddenly, a commotion near the doorway caught our attention. A man was howling, flailing his arms, and generally behaving like a scorpion had attacked him. It wasn’t a scorpion, though—it was one of the crabs! It had decided to explore the world beyond the basket and had chosen the man’s foot as its first destination.

One by one, the crabs embarked on their daring escape mission. Crawling out of the basket, they transformed the train compartment into a chaotic crab rodeo. My father, in a state of panic, signalled us to keep our cool. I was trembling, fearing that we would be discovered as the culprits behind the crab invasion.

But it seemed like the crabs had other plans. My niece and Shakthi found the situation uproariously funny and burst into fits of laughter. Their innocent amusement echoed through the compartment, turning heads and drawing curious glances. Meanwhile, my father maintained a brave poker face, trying to divert any suspicion that might arise.

As the crabs continued their escape mission, passengers exchanged baffled glances. The train compartment had turned into a wild crab migration scene, with crustaceans cautiously exploring the unknown terrain of the train.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of crab-induced mayhem, the last crab made its great escape at the Katpadi station. The once-bustling bamboo basket now stood empty, a symbol of both relief and absurdity. The compartment returned to its usual state, albeit with a few perplexed and amused passengers.

When the train finally arrived at Bangalore, my aunt was waiting at the station to receive us. She scanned their luggage with anticipation, her eyes gleaming with excitement. However, something seemed amiss—there were no bamboo basket with crabs to be seen.

Curiosity piqued, she asked, “Where are the crabs?”

My father still grappling with the memory of the crab escapade, managed a straight face and replied, “Oh, the crabs? They decided to embark on an impromptu sightseeing tour at Arakkonam. We thought they could use a change of scenery.”

Amusement danced in his eyes as he watched his aunt’s puzzled expression. The story of the crab adventure became a tale to be retold and laughed at for years to come—a journey that had turned into an unexpected crabby escapade, leaving everyone in stitches of laughter and a newfound appreciation for the hilarity that life often serves up when least expected.