Having lived in Banaras for ages had given my father enough reasons to despise Indians. The reasons.....however.....unknown. My mother had graduated from Gorakhpur, and she was not a great fan of Indians either. So when I was ready to leave for Orissa, they were very ambivalent. My brother's brief stint in Bangalore had not been excellent and that put my parents in serious quandary if I would repeat the deja vu.
My brother had gone to Bangalore with the bang. Bidding goodbye to tearful girlfriends behind and looking for others as soon as he would get there. He was extremely lucky when it came to good looks, the kind of looks you see in the movies. Although both my parents were extremely good-looking, I, however, got messed up during gestation and only inherited the elements which my parents, if given a chance, would get rid of the next moment.
The fusillade was mute my brother got back home five months later. A well-trimmed goatee and a tattoo in his left arm was all he got for the cost of quarter million rupees. My dad almost went into coma witnessing the disaster.
Although my departure was clouded with uncertainty and despair, my father was pretty sure I was going to study all those years.
"John, always travel first class", he said to me when I was leaving. "Don't worry about the fares". Those were the only words he said to me when I was leaving. Traveling by train in India had always been his bugaboo.
Fast forward few years later. I was ready to get back home for my last winter vacation. Rohini, my then girlfriend and I sat hand in hand marveling Aamir in Akele hum akele tum. The train was a few hours late and neither of us minded watching a movie in the meantime.
Rohini and my brother would have made a good dating pair. She was an extremely beautiful female from Jammu, a tall Punjabi belle. Her father was a high-ranked military officer, who would have emptied his canon on me had he known I was dating his pretty daughter.
We were traveling to Kolkata, from where she would take a Rajhdhani to Delhi and I would board an aircraft to Kathmandu. We both liked Aamir Khan, he was always such a good performer. I knew she always wished I were Aamir, but I unfortunately looked like Ajay Devgan instead. Our relationship started off platonically and became a little mawkish over the time. We would hold hands when alone and kiss once in a month in extremely solitary conditions, always fearing someone might drop in.
The movie was longer than we expected, and so we hurried to the railway station only to discover the train was unexpectedly late. Rohini had a train at 10:00 am from Kolkata the next day and I had to board an aircraft approximately the same time. The last straw left was to board a passenger train, which, despite taking double the time, would reach us to our destination before either of our transports departed.
Rohini had once traveled in such a train before; I had never even seen it. It was a small train carrying double the number of people than the regular long one. There were people on the roof, sitting without support, thwarting all the laws of inertia. Some were hanging out from the door. I started wondering if those poor people were traveling for Christmas.
A local train broker led us in at 15 rupees and made a room hardly enough to seat two people. It was a dark compartment with people sleeping on the floor. The smell was so noxious, I used Rohini's perfume on me and on her too, at least we would smell good within a small periphery. I was rephrasing my dad's words and was trying to justify if traveling on a passenger train was a good decision.
The train, as expected left at 9:45 pm, 30 minutes past the scheduled time. I clutched Rohini tight, afraid of the dark, and the people, and the clamor caused by snack- vendors. Rohini shoved all her money in her brassiere the moment she discovered two goons in the uppermost berth were not ogling at her. I wanted to do the same too, but wore no bra. So I shoved all the money inside my front pocket. Night train was a pickpocket?s heyday, both of us knew that.
There was an old man from Bihar who tried to speak to us. He even offered Rohini a piece of finely cut apple, which she almost ate had I not nudged her hard. She was always so naive. I pretended sleeping, but kept an eye for the monsters who would jump on Rohini the next moment.
The train stopped every ten minutes, the wheels screeched at every halt and I was forced to be awake every jolt. Suddenly I queasy and wanted to disgorge all the biriyani I ate few hours ago. I got up from the seat and put my bag on it making sure no one sat there. I almost fell down trying to walk to the rest room. Walking in motion is always difficult. I reached the rest room, opened the door and closed it the very second....for obvious reasons.
Luckily the door of our compartment was not so occupied. I went there, almost crawling, and locked my elbow on one of the door handles. After making sure I would not fall, I let it all go. The delicious biriyani was all over the free space for a moment and on the tracks the next, leaving my enzymes disappointed. My eyes watered out of discomfort and I suddenly felt a million times lighter, I also felt a million years older. A little boy caught me off guard with my stunt and looked away as if vomiting was an act performed by an unfortunate soul on a daily basis.
I fought my way back to Rohini, trying not to tread over corpse like bodies, who would still not get out of their sleep had the train collided. Rohini was a little tensed wondering what took me so long. I smiled at her as if I won a medal of valor. One mission was indeed accomplished.
I tried to look through the window, wondering where we were, fearing the train my take us to Ranchi. Frustrated, I then slept, amidst all misery, with my heard crookedly rested on Rohini's shoulder. Rohini slept too, snoring gently to my surprise, but woke up in between to check on any groping hands.
I woke up after we passed Kharagpur, it was dawn then, Rohini was still sleeping. We would reach Kolkata in an hour, and then everything would come back to normal. I was delighted about not having to come across any misfortune. It was after all, a safe trip if I erased the foul smell and some unsolicited stares out of my memory.
The train slowly reduced its celerity as Howrah approached and finally came to a halt. Rohini and I found embracing each other with people watching. But we did not care. We were not seeing each other for two weeks and a little hug could be excused.
We waiting until the huge swarm of people slowly got off the train. There was no need to rush, Rohini only needed to change the plaform and I needed 30 minutes to get to the airport. Indians were too careful not leave their baggage behind while getting off. Also, they were too careless carrying others? belongings too. Thanks to one of those careless Indians, my little sports bag disappeared right under my nose. It had a few tapes, a Walkman, a bag of potato chips, a tennis racket, few tennis balls and a railway booklet.
He would throw away the map; eat the potato chips instantly; played badminton with the racket; and passed the Walkman all over the neighborhood until the poor machine bled and stopped working. I felt bad for my little Sony, which had served me faithfully along all those years. It certainly did not deserve such death.
I did not tell Rohini about my lost bag, but quietly mourned its loss.
My dad's pithy in 'traveling first class' was now more elucidated.
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