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Good morning. I approached the train on the platform with a plan in mind. I would find a seat and colonise it, and I would spread myself out with a bag here and a coat there. Then I would open the paper, the broadsheet I usually only buy for such an occasion, all making the space seem impenetrable.

Of course it wasn’t my train. For me it was a short journey – just a temporary passenger. But I paid for my seat and deserved my comfort. So my comfort assault on the surrounding seats began.

As passengers made their way down the carriage I avoided eye contact and wondered if this was a good time to eat something, usually off putting for fellow travellers. One intrepid soul braved all my defences and took his place beside me. I think he got the studied vibe that I was here first but, in my largesse, would allow him to sit. It turned out he was a recently arrived immigrant from the Middle East.

This country is made of immigrants like the Celts, Romans, Saxons, Vikings, Normans, and, more recently, Irish, Poles, Jamaicans, Indians, and Pakistanis among others. Like me on my short train ride we all come to this land and claim it as our own and plan to keep it comfortable for ourselves – alone. And then we die and another makes the claim. And after we are all gone the land will remain.

The train and the land are owned and controlled by someone else. I just get to occupy the space for a short stay. I pray Lord that during my stay I can do better than fend for myself. That I can take care of others, to show them concern, and love, and share this space with a warm heart. Hare Krishna.