Thursday, March 13, 2014

A Journey to the roots...

It was already 2:30 pm when I reach crowded, jam packed New Delhi station. Railway stations in India are a scene in itself, with overflowing people, almost more than 100 times the station’s capacity, many eateries and mobile stalls for tea and pakodas, beggars trying their luck on the passengers, people sleeping with their bed sheets put on the floor and on top of this many stray dogs feeding on the left over litter.  “On which platform is Aashram Express,” I asked with my lungs craving for oxygen. “Platform no 3 madam, train is already there”, the bookstall owner replied. There was no chance I could have missed the train, had to reach Ahmedabad the next morning for an interview in a grass root organisation whose work I really liked. I rushed towards the platform, checked the reservation list, my ticket was still not confirmed and there was almost no hope of getting a seat on the way. After a lot of negotiation with the TC, I finally got on the train hoping of some last minute cancellations.

The train started, it has to pass through Rajasthan crossing cities like Jaipur, Abu before it reaches Ahmedabad next morning at 7:30 am. It was early July, rains were approaching, adding a very pleasant feel to the weather. After an hour of cribbing and struggling for reservation, I gave up and started to concentrate on my book, observe the fellow passengers, outside view and the snacks and tea that were being sold on and off. The scenic outskirts and the breeze that kept hitting my face took me to a different world where I could not hear the noise from the crowded background. The muddy smell coming from outside reminded me of first rain drop hitting the dry land. It was quite unlike my earlier train journeys which were covered in the four walls of an AC compartment and a book in hand as a company for the entire travel time. Absolutely no talking or moving out of the train.

The train obviously was overcrowded, but thankfully we had nobody sitting on the floor. In my compartment, there was a Muslim family, a father, mother and three daughters travelling together along with two toddlers. There was lots of gossip, food and serious discussions they were engrossed in. Probably, they were going to see a guy for their youngest daughter. The discussion roamed around jewellery, guest list, venue, catering, clothes they they have to buy and matching it up with the expectations of the groom’s family. Then the discussion went to the expenses and dowry read gifts the guy’s family was expecting. “It is my duty, I have to make them happy so that they keep my daughter happy,” he said in a low tone looking at his daughter. The look on the father’s face revealed much more than what was discussed verbally. These conversations raised many questions in my mind which made me go back to issues which I presumed existed in an India of 1980s, not 2013. I could not understand who is to be blamed for a regressive custom like this to prevail in a society where we talk about inclusive growth and sustainable development, whatever that means.

I was distracted of these thoughts by a tea vendor who just crossed by and the family stopped him.  Out of courtesy, they also asked me if I would like to have some tea, to which I replied affirmative being an avid tea lover. The tea tasted much better than many other times I have had tea in train, it had a flavour of black pepper clubbed with cinnamon and the light rains were making it a moment of a lifetime. Then, my attention went to another family which was also accommodated in the same compartment; probably they also did not get a confirmed reservation like me. A young couple with a two year old kid, travelling to their home town to meet their parents. During our conversations, I found that they do not stay in Delhi but in Bihar and have already been travelling for more than 24 hours now. It was already 8:30 pm now and the family was supposed to occupy full seats for sleeping. The husband and wife got up with their kid and started moving towards the door, wife turned and asked, “You also do not have seat right and you also don’t seem to be having a bed sheet to be used to sit on the floor, why don’t you come with us?” I seemed to have no better option as the TC also had not shown his face since past four hours. I followed the couple leaving the family behind at comfort with all the space for them to sleep peacefully.


They spread the bed sheet in the space near the washrooms adjacent to the compartment doors and offered me to sit. I sat resting my back on the door which was closed. After an hour of silence, we started talking. She asked about my background and was amazed that I had a husband and still was travelling alone. She was amazed that I was married and did not have a bangle or vermilion on my forehead as a mark of married women. She gave me advice on why not to leave husbands alone with the in laws (Did not even try to understand any part of it). Her questions then moved to the curiosities on things which we consider as basics of our lives. How does it feel to be sleeping with an AC on? How does the AC compartment of the train look like? Does an airplane actually fly? Do we actually have stairs which move on their own? Her dreams focussed around her kid who was happily and freely sleeping in her lap. Though I answered her questions in detail, my mind was left with many questions whose answers I am still searching. I was go engrossed in my internal questions that I did not realize how entire night went sitting and we had reached our destination at 7:15 am. I thanked them for taking care of me when I had no idea of travelling without a reservation and wished them well. After an hour, sitting in a Mc Donalds near my interview venue, having my morning coffee, wondering the disparity that exists and value that we assign to people. 

Sometimes life teaches a lot through small experiences. These few hours of train travel made to closer to the roots and changed my perspective of basics in life…Well… Cheers to Indian Railways for making it possible for me!

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