I COULDN’T recall exactly when I had last travelled by train, more commonly termed by the locals as the rail gaddi. Thus, I was apprehensive about this particular journey and tried to convince myself to have more faith in our railway system.
As I had not made reservations earlier, I was unsure of whether I would get a ticket. The morning of the day I was to travel, I rushed to the City Station booking office to get it. I had already asked my aunt, an experienced train traveller, which train is the most convenient to travel by and what compartment and seat to get. Armed with this information, I confidently walked inside the office and up to two booking officers who looked at me and made me feel as if I shouldn’t have bothered.
The younger of the two began in a condescending tone: “What do you want?” (A ticket and a quick exit from here, I thought to myself). I told him the name of the train and the seats I wanted. He was a bit taken aback when I said that I wanted a seat in the ‘mixed’ compartment. He looked at me suspiciously, as if I had committed a crime, and said that he would book my seat in the ladies compartment instead. But I told him that my companion was a male and we could just not sit in two separate sections. Hearing our discourse, the elder officer, of a more understanding nature, took over and booked the desired seat. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out.
The train was to leave in the evening and it was already afternoon by the time I got back home. I had been warned by my aunt not to accept any eatables from fellow travellers as it might be laced with sedatives.
I reached the railway station with a suitcase and a basket of goodies. There were people from all walks of life, and families holding on to their belongings. Beggars were all over the place and one had to be careful not to trip over them. As I stood there, taking in the overwhelming sight before me, I was interrupted by a coolie tugging at my suitcase, saying: Lain mujhe dain, main aap ko garhi tak puhnchan daita hoon.” I didn’t really require his services, but the fear of reaching the wrong compartment led me to hand over my belongings to him and I followed him through the maze.
He walked fast and before I knew it, I was aboard the train and adjusting my luggage in the compartment. I had chosen the sleeper as I was to continue my journey through the night. In all, there were six passengers and an equal number of bunks.
The conductor blew the whistle and the train actually left the platform on time. Shortly after, it stopped due to a fatal engine failure. I angrily muttered to my companion, “Why couldn’t they have checked the engine beforehand?” His casual reply: “In this dear ol’ country of ours, anything is possible!” We were two hours late when the train again started moving. As my seat was close to the door, a continuous banging of the door merged with the forward rocking of the train to create a rhythm that lasted throughout the journey.
As we pulled out of the city, the darkness of the night soon fell. The events of the day had given me an enormous appetite and I settled down to enjoy my dinner that I had brought along. Those who hadn’t brought something to eat opted for the dinner boxes being sold in the train. Having appeased my hunger, I decided to call it a night.
I slept well only to be woken up by the sunlight piercing through the window. I decided to freshen up and headed toward the washroom, only to find out there was no water. The other toilet that did have water was occupied and there was already a long queue in front of it. Grumbling, I returned to my seat and washed up with the drinking water I carried.
I had chosen a seat next to the window so that I could look out at the passing scenery. The scenic countryside is one of the reasons why I would certainly undertake the journey again. The train tracks led us through several small towns and villages, mud houses, grazing livestock, children playing in the courtyards, men and women toiling in the fields, villagers taking a bath in the nearby streams or rivers and the looks on their faces as the train passed by. At that moment, I wished I had carried a video camera to capture it all. In my opinion, the train is the only mode of transportation that allows a clear and crisp view of our country’s setting in a short timeframe.
The time passed by quickly now that I had a great scenic pastime. It made a few quick stops along the way and one could get down to stretch oneself before resuming the journey. I tried it and it felt great.
Though the train entered the final station well behind schedule, as I disembarked from it, I again lost myself in the hustle bustle. I could also not help thinking that it was not as bad as I’d expected it to be.
I COULDN’T recall exactly when I had last travelled by train, more commonly termed by the locals as the rail gaddi. Thus, I was apprehensive about this particular journey and tried to convince myself to have more faith in our railway system.
