Indian Railways

Indian Railways is something that has long been elusive from me. Circumstantial it was, as my family was never outdoor type and when we did venture out, it was in our own transport. My last tryst with the railways was when I was in class 7th; the year being 1993. The circumstances surrounding travel were distressing with our car smashed in an accident, making it dysfunctional. I had my first train ride 16 years earlier, from Indore to Ludhiana.

After return from my recent trip to Goa, and just about being able to walk after 2 weeks of bed rest following ligament rupture, I was limping back to work. No wonder my mind was in a split when Captain Suresh informed me of exercises being conducted by a brigade of the Indian Army, (which his course mate was commanding) providing the rare advent of seeing BOYS TOYS in action. We boarded the train, the same night. Since we had a notice of just 3 hours for booking, we just about managed reservation in last berths of second class. Frequent users of this mode of transport, would know what I mean. It means sitting in a bogie with glassless windows, cramped 3-tier space, right next to loo, which nobody bothers to clean. The moment I stepped into the train, I realized I was in for a lesson. Seeing others carrying quilts and various other forms of bedding, I could anticipate what was in store. The space where I was supposed to fit in and lay for the night, gave me a choke, for I couldn’t imagine myself fitting into it. I could do nothing, but brace myself for the onslaught. The whole night I would try to lay, sit up, curse; lay, sit up, curse, till the time a station would come and I would rush to the platform to drink chai and come back and start all over again. The exercise carried on till the time the horizon was orange again and with my partner up and warmth in the air, I felt a little comforted and assured that I can make it. The track between Bikaner and Jodhpur was free for all sand type. Having done both modes of travel, by bike as well as by train; I conclude both are equally dusty. The sand was there in every nook and corner of the bogie and its influx grew with ever increasing speed of the train. When we did make it to Jodhpur, we were an hour late; not bad at all as per Indian Railways standards.

Till the time I did this journey I never bothered to learn nor did care what was AC 1 tier, 2 tier, 3 tier, the second AC, and the general compartment meant for those, who wish to convert their journey into a pilgrimage. Now I can make out the categorization clearly and quite as much relate to it. More so while traveling through Rajasthan, a peculiar situation is faced at stations over the way. There is simply nothing on stations; no kiosk no nothing, only a water tap with DRINKING WATER written in English but sounding native Rajasthani language. I too had to ask someone to get its meaning.

But I believe, the Indian way of living life is fight; a fight to get your right, a fight to claim what you are entitled to. It’s a kill all over. You buy a cup of chai for 5 rupees and you have to tell the bugger to give a decent fill else you might just land up with half a cup. You buy a box of rasgullas from Bikaner and it turns out gulab jamuns instead. For example on our way back, the gentleman next to our berth didn’t knew that he was supposed to get a towel in AC 2 tier despite the fact he had been traveling on the same train for several years now. No one bothers to ask the attendant for a complaint register, rather majority of us don’t even know that it exists.

In the end; it’s our CHALTA HAI attitude, which is coming back to us.