Scenes from the Indian railway

Ever friendly and welcoming: Indian Railways

As I prepared to pack my belongings again, I felt the now familiar rise of excitement as I contemplated the train journey ahead, my fifth since arriving eight weeks ago. I had to ask myself; 

Was I an Indian railway junkie?

The entire experience fascinates, from start to finish, including pre-travel preparations. Will buying a ticket be a drama or simple and straightforward? 

Happily on this occasion, the latter. Bus from ashram to town, a short walk to the railway station and no queueing at the ticket counter. The female clerk organised my connections and upgraded me to aircondtionned carriages. Very smooth.

The day of travel, I arrived at the station in plenty of time. I received a helping hand  from Sagar, a local in his late thirties.  In a chivalrous act he conveyed my Samsonite hard shell up a set of stairs, across a bridge and down to the next platform, heavy suitcase balanced on his left shoulder causing him to perspire and puff. 

Rickshaw drivers outside Mangalore Central

Sagar was super polite, enquiring into my schedule to ensure I was on the correct platform and stopping short of asking personal questions: the perfect balance!  Sagar was attempting a last minute trip to Mumbai and hoping that his waitlisted ticket would be upgraded for travel.

The first leg of the journey was an hour’s ride to Mangalore Central, a significant commercial centre and transport hub. 


Mid-morning, the air conditionned carriage was virtually empty and so I extended my legs onto the seat opposite, enjoying the space and privacy. I bought vada and chutney from the chai wallah, the vada were stale and chewy so I threw them out of the door and looked forward to lunch instead.

At Mangalore, I had a couple of hours to wait before my connection. I decided against a trip into town: it was midday ie very hot, the road to town was busy and I didn't want to exhaust myself. Besides, I could amuse myself very easily without leaving the station. I would hang out, enjoy the buzz, observe the people, the trains and poke around.

First ritual - depositing luggage. Most stations have baggage facilities, often signed cloakroom. Here, the attendant sat at a large wooden desk and recorded my items in a ledger, pinning hand written chits to each. I rather pointlessly tried to persuade him to accept my guitar, 

No madam, here we are not taking musical instruments and electricals. Not possible. Ah well.

Veg rice meal

It was time for lunch. The restaurants were segregated as pure veg and non-veg. I made my way into the bustling pure veg canteen. One selects from the menu and pre-pays. 

I found myself sharing a table with a young married couple with an affluent air; she in a fancy sari with good gold jewellery, he with a well pressed shirt, grey slacks and polished black lace-ups.

People don’t linger over lunch. You sit, are served, eat and leave. My companions worked their way through their meals in under ten minutes, pouring a selection of individual sauces onto mound of rice, working it into balls with fingers and swallowing rapidly, repeat until the tray is empty. Or do as I do, bring a spoon. Delicious food, freshly prepared, light and plentiful. One of the best railway meals I have had; and costing just thirty five rupees.

After lunch I walked the length of the platform a few times, partly to exercise, partly to revel in the detail of the activity taking place around me. Families feasting on picnics from stainless steel tiffins, coolies moving unfeasible volumes of cargo and luggage, businessmen surveying newspapers and making phonecalls. The rush and roar of trains arriving and departing.

Does she have a ticket?

I sat for a while in the ladies waiting room, always a safe refuge. Too excited to snooze, I struck up a conversation with Priya, a pretty young student of economics who was travelling with eleven of her extended family (aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews) to Murudeshwar where the infants would receive a special blessing at the temple and be given rice to eat for the first time.

Soon enough it was time for me to reclaim my luggage and take my seat on the Matsyagandha Express. Just before boarding, I noticed Sagar from Kanhangad waving vigorously at me. His broad smile told me that his ticket had been upgraded. I waved and nodded back, acknowledging his good fortune. He stepped into sleeper class, I was in 3AC.

The afternoon sun blazed into the carriage and I gazed out across acres of coconut groves, fertile pastureland and the glorious shimmering backwaters of Kerala. I relaxed as the train carried me into the neighbouring state of Karnataka and shortly after dusk fell I had reached my latest destination: the temple town of Gokarna, somewhere I had longed to visit for years.

Healthy snacks and drinks

In a splendid coup de grace a local bus was waiting in the station forecourt and would take me into town for twenty five rupees thwarting the rickshaw drivers who were demanding an exhorbitant one hundred and fifty rupees. Somehow my luggage was squeezed in and I found myself on the back seat, chatting to a local. 

Welcome to Gokarna! First time coming? How long you stay? One month? Two month? Three month?


I ....don't know 

Was my honest response. I had seriously deviated from my intended itinerary for this trip (two months Rishikesh, two months Auroville). Planning and imagining anything seemed pointless, I would play it day by day and just see how I felt. Gokarna town with it's brahmin culture and five beaches has a reputation as a traveller's nirvana and I was open to anything it had to offer... 

Blessings

Jennifer