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This is the first (or rather last in chronological order) in a series of four trip reports covering my four long journeys across India in the Summer of 2010.

Part 1: SAILing Through Ugly Views

(New Delhi to Mumbai by 2952 Up Rajdhani Express)

As we climbed out of the Metro station, one change I observed from my last visit to New Delhi fourteen months ago was that a new station building had come up on Ajmeri Gate side. A little better than boxy looking station structures built these days, it still leaves a lot to be desired from a station building of a country’s capital. A board says there is a “Chalaaymaan Seedhi” (Escalator) but I could not find where it is hidden so we took one of the two Foot Over Bridges that start from the new station building. It was a long walk from Platform-16 to Platform-3 made longer by the fact that the bridge we took terminated at Platform-5 and was connected to another bridge to move to other platforms.

It was at 15.45, 45 minutes prior to its scheduled departure time, that a engine painted in maniac Mamata’s “Duronto” color scheme that she claims to represent her “Maa Maati Maanush” ideology but actually looks as if a dinosaur puked all over it, appeared at a distance bringing in the gleaming red-and-silver LHB rake of the Mumbai Rajdhani Express from the stabling lines to the north of the station. As the engine neared, my dad had a look at it, and commented “Oh God! What happened to this engine?” I just told him, “It has received the blessings of Mamata!” As is the usual custom at New Delhi, (or so I believe since it happened with me on four different occasions at four different platforms and four different trains) the train was brought to an abrupt stop way off the mark from the coach numbers displayed on the indicators. It immediately brought back memories of 4th June 2009, when a similar blunder with Swaraj Express had caught me and my friends in a mini stampede with the girls being groped and one of the team leader’s wallet with the journey tickets being picked in the process. This time it was not that bad since the train was fully reserved and crowd was minimal as no train was scheduled on adjacent platform. The entire crowd on the platform walked back around six coaches and within no time the train was packed to capacity. I walked fast across the coach and planted myself and my backpack on the Side Lower berth before someone else occupies it and asks me to “adjust a bit”. I soon realised it wouldn’t have made a difference since the huge window was covered with ugly SAIL advertisements that made a mess of the view outside. I seriously wonder who was the babu who thought this was a great idea.

Our co-passengers in the berth were two Punjabi families and in true Indian style, relatives numbering twice the travelling passengers had occupied the seats until departure time. At 16.30 without any audible horn or announcement, we slowly pulled out and simultaneously the Ranchi Rajdhani started its journey. We had a parallel run till Tilak Bridge after which the Ranchi Rajdhani veered off to the left. I tried to capture this race on video but thanks to the SAIL ads, it is nothing worth seeing! As we crossed Nizamuddin, a pantry guy came dragging a huge plastic garbage bin filled with bottles of ‘Rail Neer’ and handed one bottle each to the passengers. Soon, evening snacks were served consisting of one half cheese sandwich, a samosa, an incredibly tasty ‘anjeer barfi’ from Haldirams and two toffees with a packed mango drink. As we were having the snacks, a pantry guy handed paper cups to every passenger and another fellow came with thermos flasks of hot water announcing “Ek me se do ban jaaega” and placing them between two seats. The run upto Mathura was not great with many temporary speed restrictions imposed and a couple of unscheduled stops between stations. We took 2 hours and 5 minutes to reach Mathura which I am sure is much more than dictated in the Working Time Table.

After Mathura as darkness fell, there was nothing to look out for. In the meantime, I spotted a ticketless passenger- a medium sized rat running across the aisle and shouted out its presence. This alarmed the passengers and what followed was a ten minute entertainment show of screaming ladies, overenthusiastic uncles trying to catch the rodent and a bunch of passengers cheering them! Nothing materialized out of this exercise and the little fellow disappeared, probably into the AC Hot Buffet Car next door for dinner! During train travels I usually dont engage in much small talk with fellow passengers but with nothing visible outside, I decided to focus on the talks inside. The co-passengers in my bay resembled the typical characters seen in every masala Hindi movie- a bubbly talkative “heroine ki behen/saheli”, a healthy daughter-praising “heroine ki maa”, a “heroine ki mausiji” who agrees to everything the “maa” says and a stern military-disciplined “heroine ke papa” (no, there was no heroine or hero!) who gave a long lecture on the need for military action against Naxalites on the lines of Operation Blue Star, without bothering if anyone is interested in listening to it or not! It turns out the talkative girl at the window seat was a rich Delhi girl used to car travel only, recently married in Mumbai and scared of stepping into the Mumbai locals. The other passengers, including us, managed to convince her that if she has to live in Mumbai, she has to learn local train travel. There is no alternative.

Around 7.30pm, I fell asleep on my Side Lower Berth out of sheer boredom and was woken up an hour later by the Pantry guy with dinner plate in his hands. The vegetarian dinner had a surprisingly edible paneer sabzi with lots of paneer pieces and little else alongwith a watery dal and dry rice that is the epitome of IRCTC’s nationwide consistency. The rotis were hot, and hence edible, thanks to the fact that my coach was right next to the AC Hot Buffet Car. Immediately after dinner, a small cup of icecream (Vanilla and Strawberry mixed) was served and the moment that was consumed, I declared my desire to go off to sleep. The co-passengers agreed unanimously. Nothing brings out the friendly adjusting nature of Indians more than 3 tier sleeper coaches. The Punjabi bride and her mother who had aggresively declared their rights on the Lower Berths when the train departed from Delhi were now ready to take up any berths. The bride gave up her lower berth to the military uncle, I gave my Side Lower to my dad since he hardly sleeps during train journeys and perched myself on to the Upper berth and a few such adjustments later, everyone was off to sleep by 9.30pm, even before the train reached its first scheduled stop- Kota.

When I woke up, we were already around Navsari, so I have no clue what happened in the night. My dad had seen us departing from Surat at 5.40am, which meant we were running around 30 minutes late now. The morning tea with two Marie biscuits was served after Vapi and there was no signs of breakfast till we crossed Dahanu Road. The public address system came to life and played the morning news in Hindi and English followed by an announcement that breakfast will be served soon. Around Boisar we were given plates with two veg cutlets, two slices of bread, butter, jam and packed mango drink. On enquiry, it was revealed that passengers who ask for it can get poha (a Maharashtrian dish) for breakfast instead of cutlets and we immediately asked for a change of packets. As we finished breakfast we were nearing Virar and the passengers were already wondering if the train would halt at Borivali. My dad enquired and found out that out of 72, more than 50 passengers lived in suburbs and wanted to get off at Borivali if possible! I jokingly suggested that everyone contribute Rs 20 each to pay for the Rs 1000 fine and we pull the Emergency Chain at Borivali! Hopes of a Borivali stop were renewed when we crawled down to 10 km/hr at Borivali outer but eventually managed to cross the station at 20 km/hr. We did not pick up speed and came to a complete halt at Kandivali. Our coach being 9th from the loco was partially within platform limits. I peeped out and saw the Malad-Churchgate local was crawling out of Kandivali carshed ahead of us. So, making the most of this opportunity, mom, dad and myself quickly picked up all our luggage, went to the door ahead and got off the train at Kandivali itself, thereby saving ourself the trouble, time and money of going all the way to Mumbai Central in heavy rains and taking a cab all the way back to Malad!

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