The Train, Yet Again

Thirty hours is a lot of time to be spent on the train, at least for me. 

My favourite berth is side-lower for it allows me to have minimal interaction with other people. The people occupying lower, middle and upper berth mostly indulge in discussions related to weather or food, sometimes politics too. Side berth gives me the option to just sit back and enjoy the conversation, if it's interesting, or turn around and pretend to be asleep, in case I am bored. Rarely people turn to the person sitting on the side berth to talk unless the person who is supposed to be on the side-upper berth is actually sitting in front of you and is looking at you with a wide smile.

Last vacation, once again, I took a train from Bombay, Lokmanya Tilak Terminal, to home. I got the tickets done early and hence I was relieved to be on the side-lower berth. There was no one on the side-upper berth and so I conveniently took two pillows, plugged in my earphones, and started watching one of the gazillion things that I had downloaded on my phone for this long journey. After a couple of hours of watching and napping, I woke up to this lady sitting in front of me wearing a wide smile. I tried to smile too and sheepishly returned her pillow.

I got up, sat and folded my legs to give her enough space to sit. She smiled again and opened the curtains. The glass of the window of a third-AC compartment is like a sepia-toned blurred wallpaper. You can’t clearly see, but you still like what you see. After a few minutes, she asked me where I was coming from. I got confused if she wanted to know the station that I boarded the train from or about my hometown. So, I told her both. After half an hour of conversation and her showing me pictures of her kids, she offered me a small pack of Bourbon and water. I refused to take the biscuits even though Bourbon is my favourite. I don’t like eating much on the train, especially on a thirty-hours journey. I eagerly took the water though. I had finished my water bottle a while ago and had been waiting for a vendor. No one showed up though; they are not very frequent in AC compartments.

She got down after a couple of hours. I envied her for my destination was still quite afar. After her, I saw a lot of people coming and going while I was still curled up inside the sheets. I have taken uncountable train rides to home. Faizabad, my home, doesn’t have an airport. The nearest one is Lucknow though, which is used in case of urgencies and emergencies. Earlier I used to take an overnight train from Delhi to Faizabad. It used to be the best. I would sit at around seven in the evening, eat the burger that I got packed from the station MacDonalds and sleep, only to wake up to the hustle-bustle of Faizabad station. My father would be trying to see through the window glass and I would wave at him only to realize that he can’t see me. Delhi to Faizabad is only twelve hours. Twelve hours in a train is warm and cosy and even better if you decide to watch a film like Highway, which I used to do quite often.

The days of loving the train rides have become a thing of past since I have shifted to Mumbai. Now it’s more about convenience and feasibility. This time I was very eager to get down from the train, so as soon as I overheard someone saying that Faizabad is just an hour away I started taking out my bags. I also checked the sheets and the pillow and the entire berth to be honest. I did not want to forget my earphones or charger in a hurry. I came out and stood at the gate. The train went right past my father and then stopped a few seconds later. I saw him following the train and me. As soon as I got down, he kissed my forehead and I touched his feet and then gave him an awkward hug.

I reached home and saw my grandmother standing at the gate waiting for me. After meeting her, I walked straight into the kitchen only to find my mother preparing my favourite breakfast. Later in the day, I was telling my brother, who is still in school, about the train journey and the lady I met. He instantly said, “But don’t you know that we shouldn’t take food from strangers. What if she stole your stuff or did something bad?” I had no answers so I just apologized and promised to be more careful next time.