A TRAIN JOURNEY THAT TEACHES

RANCHI JUNCTION

As we travelled by Rajdhani Express from New Delhi to Ranchi recently, I recalled all those journeys taken ages ago by a slow train from Old Delhi railway station.  The train would either be the Delhi Patna express which used to have one bogey attached going up to Ranchi or the Kalka Mail. I would normally travel by the Delhi Patna Express in the bogey meant for Ranchi, which would get attached to the Patna Ranchi Express perhaps at Gomoh. It used to be a slow train journey, with the train halting ever so often. I would read and sleep and sleep and read throughout the journey.

EVERYONE AT THE DOOR

This time the journey was for about seventeen hours and the train would stop only for a couple of moments at chosen stations. There was no open window, there was no smoke billowing from the steam engine, one could not stick ones head out of the window to look out at the end of the train when there was a large turning on the track. One missed all the people throwing coins into the Holy Ganges or for that matter any river over which our train went. Those were such fascinating train journeys when the train sang to us in rhythm. The Bengalis used to say the train says, "Didi koto, dada koto?" Some would say that the train sang,"chhuk, chhuk, chhuk, chhuk,oooooooooo!"

It was a soothing continuous sound which easily lulled all of us to sleep.

This time the usual musical sound was missing. The familiar "chai, chai, chai, chai, chai bolo chai", couldn't be heard. The taste of kulhad wali chai was a thing of the past.

BOKARO STEEL PLANT

In those days I would love to read the Bradshaw( Railway Time table) and wait to see the next tiny station pass by, or the next bigger station where the train would stop, and give me a chance to see the little bit of cultural change as we moved on eastward. There was the compulsory sindoor on the head, the very colorful sarees, whole families sitting crowded together on the platform. Rustic India with fields and fields of Dhaan, sugar cane, wheat would go past. It looked beautiful and plentiful and reassuring. All was well with the world, peace prevailed, and everyone went on with their jobs.

THE FARMERS & THEIR FIELDS

There would be plenty of women singing and working in the fields, men would be with their bullocks and ploughs and keep ploughing the field.

I remember those railway crossings with traffic on both sides of the track. Bullock carts, motor cycles, jeeps and a few buses. Everyone looked eagerly at the train, as if they would spot a familiar face going past in the train. There are these crossings still, but there is a look of impatience on the faces of those waiting for the train to pass. Everyone is in a hurry. There is now no time left to just stand and stare. 

THROUGH THE GLASS.

In the twenty first century, we have got cocooned inside air conditioned coaches. We are treated to food and more food throughout the journey. Clean sheet, pillow, a towel are given to us. An attendant is available to look after our comfort. Those days of traveling with a holdall have gone forever. Times have changed. A train journey is no longer filled with adventure, surprises and fear of someone entering the bogey and sitting on our allotted seat. Fear of petty thieves running away with our luggage once you have fallen asleep. 

When I was a child and travelled with my parents the 1st class was a compartment by itself. It had a seat like a sofa, there were berths and a toilet all to yourself. The door handles used to be quite heavy and  if you were a family of four one could lock it from inside and travel safe. The dining car was a place where one would go for meals. Meals were served with proper crockery and cutlery. The food was delicious. Specially the cutlets that they served.

THE GREAT GANGA

Times they are a changing, they are more comfortable, but memories of childhood and youth are more romantic. A journey by train was not just a journey to reach a destination. It was all about enjoying a full two or three days of looking at nature, the varied culture, the numerous rivers with their gigantic bridges, the chaiwallah, A H Wheeler book stall, kiosks selling food stuff where poori bhaji was the most prominent and popular preparation. It was actually a lesson in Geography.

I am not grumbling, I am only saying that travel has become more comfortable and safe, all that we have  lost is our touch with people,  our tolerance, adjustment, and sharing space. We are fearful of strangers. We have lost the art of trust. The way the people of the world have changed with misplaced priorities that one has to look for security and safety first and foremost. "Trust" has gone into the archives. 

NOT TO BE MISSED

Besides that we have become so busy that we want time to pass faster. We just want to reach our destination, without capturing the scene as it passes, without imbibing the changing scenario of people, or the dresses that they wear, or learn about the Geography of the place as India reveals itself to us.

The human touch is slowly disappearing. I know we can see, learn know everything through Google, yet what one saw and learnt with ones own eyes in direct contact with the visuals changing in front of us, is unforgettable.