A good friend was travelling today on work. What surprised me was the mode of transportation she was taking. The train. I was taken aback. In today’s jet set age, we hate wasting any precious moments. But here she was taking this journey on a whole bunch of wheels. She said it was much better than taking a flight which contributed more to pollution than the train. Point taken but what got me hooked was the spiral my mind did thinking of her travel mode.
Exercised my memory to find the last time I was on a train. Realised it was quite a long time ago. There was a time when while being in Bangalore, I used to travel from Calcutta on the famous Coromondal Express. I used to prep myself with a good read, my disc man with all my favourite CD’s and some clean sandwiches and my tomato juice. I was all set. Somehow would always get the side bunk and I had it all to myself. Being a single girl travelling, had its share of inquisitive eyes but would deftly ward them off with the strict strapping of the earphones and either gluing my eyes to the book or just shutting them off. Bought my solitude and enjoyed it.
When the train left the city limits and ventured into the endless fields of paddy, I gazed out. They were lush green and at times there would be farmers tending to their crops or there would be that lone scarecrow beckoning. The blue skies would put on their show of clouds in different shapes. I have always loved clouds and make my own interpretation of their shapes. And invariably always questioned the creator of the universe. How did he master this art? It was just so perfect.
A commotion would interrupt my attention to the rest of the compartment and then would have to make eye contact with the rest. Some would take that opportunity to open up a conversation and courtesy the good manners that the nuns taught me at SJC, I would be obliged to make some small talk. The small talk would range from the basics of where I was travelling; why I was travelling alone; did I have anyone to receive me at my destination; what was I doing in life and etc etc. Somewhere there would be that nosy parker who would be waiting for the right opportunity to plop the question of what my status was – single or married. Always used to bet with myself about the time frame this question would take to pop from either that lovely uncle or aunty seated on the lower berth.
Never was much of a conversationalist when it came to strangers or maybe it was only when travelling I donned that personality. Rationalised it by saying it was a short journey and one is not in touch with this bunch of unknown strangers when disembarking. Right? But then that is not true. I had met one of my very first crushes on a train journey and that too right under the nose of my hitleresque dad. I still wonder with amusement the way the phone number got slipped in my hands just before getting off at Patna. I can still clearly remember the way the conversation unfolded between us and how it just didn’t seem to want to take a breath. How he protected me when a rowdy group was creating a disturbance and in that how just one accidental touch sent shivers up my spine. I was just in class 10 but Jammu Tawai express just made that journey into a memorable one.
Today they all say time is of the essence. Wasn’t it before too? I am sure it was. Still people did travel by trains and still got the work done. What do achieve by the few hours we cut by flying? Of course I just mean inter country travel and not when one has to go out of their airspaces.
There is so much we miss. I used to love having that matka chai in spite of not being a tea drinker. Loved getting up in the morning to the chaos of the train grinding to a halt with one huge whoosh of smoke at one of the main stations and all the porters or the vendors shouting and selling their wares. Enjoyed standing by the door and taking in the morning breeze when the train started again. I also would make it a point in all my train journeys to get out of my 2 tier AC and take a walk across the compartments. I would then just stand by the doorways there for the course of one whole CD and steal a glimpse in the life of a set of people whose lives didn’t frequent mine. It grounded me.
Told myself that need to take a train trip soon. No particular reason but to just savour the air and the sound of the ever familiar chug of the train.
2 comments:
Aah those wonderful memories of train journies! Some "mores":
*Poori aloo in the morning.
*Antakshari that invariably turns into one nostalgic trip when everybody takes over and hums some familiar tunes together.
*Getting up earlier than everybody to get to use the loo in the morning!
*Cards, Jokes, Feats, Wiswecracks, taking quick swigs from the passing bottle containing Pepsi laced with rum..
dont forget the jhalmuries and the jhal lozenges that would also get sold. remember the small boy who would come to clean up the compartments and then come back again for some petty change? as for the loo's on trains, somehow my body would do a complete shutdown during the entire journey. it still does when i fly - just cant figure out it :).
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