Kingdom of Bahrain
01 March 2010
"Again, three days in train and then back to work!!?", I talked to myself, while clutching on to the yellow handles of the compartment door.
The train started to move.
Heading for New Delhi, the train was leaving Trivandrum Central railway station a few minutes behind schedule. I must have had around eight or ten trips like that till then, no doubt.
Thanks to the railway clerk, or to the booking system, I could get a window seat, on request. Before departure, I had a quick look at the Reservation Chart which listed the names/age/boarding stations of passengers, which was pasted near the compartment door of the maroon coloured bogie.
As a time pass, I scanned the Reservation Chart from top to bottom and ensured the accuracy of my spelling printed on the chart. From the printed Reservation Chart, with a little "grief", it dawned on me that there would not be any "colorful" passengers sharing my coupe 17-24!
I got back to my seat when the train gathered momentum after crossing Trivandrum Pettah, the adjacent station. Till Quilon, the next station, as per the Reservation Chart, the whole coupe was mine, just mine!
I re-counted my baggages that were kept under my berth and took out the latest edition of The Week, purchased from the platform shop. I tried to read the book, but, could not, due to homesickness. No matter how many times you travel from home to work place or how many years you stay away from your family, homesickness is something which you cannot avoid after a hometown trip, for sure.
"Coffee.... Coffee ....Vada... Parippu Vada.... ", that was a tempting call. I loved having coffee in train journeys, accepting its taste, because, for me at least, it was a catalyst to pass idle time.
There was a pandemonium when the train halted at Quilon Station. Passengers, baggages, coolies, relatives of passengers, platform vendors - everybody and everything contributed to maximize the pandemonium effect.
In no time, our coupe was almost full - end of my loneliness and my homesick thoughts.
"Where is my seat?" Asking this question in general, a stout man, with a W shaped moustache, "wearing" a pot belly got into our coupe, hurting some passengers by unwittingly hitting his huge VIP suitcase.
"This is my seat - I got lower berth", he turned to me after glancing at his ticket.
"What is your seat number? This is my seat as I am allotted berth 17", I defended.
He looked at his ticket again, got convinced.
This time, hurting my leg , he forcefully pushed his huge VIP suitcase between two other suitcases, under the lower berth. Without displaying any mercy or any etiquettes, he parked his bum at the other window seat, opposite of mine.
As a routine, I recounted my baggages - everything perfect.
The journey continued.
"Tickets please", the black-coated TTE woke me up, disturbing my 'sit-sleep' posture.
"Sir, is this seat vacant? Can I bring my friend who is in S10 compartment", our hero asked the TTE pointing his fingers at the vacant aisle seat.
"Seat No. 19.... no... not vacant, there is a passenger from Kottayam. This train is almost full today", TTE without looking at the questioner, answered the question while verifying other passengers' tickets.
George Varghese, that was our hero's name. He had been working in Delhi. When his children grew up and got settled, he decided to return to Kerala. But, for him Kerala life was "too difficult", and hence, he decided to go back to Delhi. Within an hour, mastering "overhearing technology", I came to know of his history.
George Varghese, alias GV (for our convenience) was talkative.
He talked about his erstwhile train journeys, his "encounters" with TTEs, the quality of food in trains, the reservation system, the prevailing security system in trains, his scary train journeys during those Chambal days, and what not!
During train journeys, we find various specimen (namoone, the Hindi term is most suitable) of different cross section of people. One such specimen was an elderly person sitting next to me, who used to bend down, take his heavy suit case from under the berth, open it, check for something, lock it and keep it back under the seat. One or two times, our one and only GV got annoyed with this 'exercise' and looked at this gentleman with fire! I dont remember this gentleman's name, so let us call him by his seat no. 18.
"Which is this station?", one passenger sitting like a God on the upper berth enquired, on realizing the decceleration of the train.
"Chengannur", No. 18 responded looking upwards.
"Do you know the speciality of this station? Usually more number of people come to see off passengers and it is more likely that the passenger would be staying outside at the platform while his/her baggages and the friends/relatives would be inside the train when the train leaves the platform !!". Our hero, GV passed his comment and started laughing without really waiting for anybody's company.
My lunch packet - the yummy smell of hot rice, coconut chammanthi (chutney) and pickle packed in steamed banana leaf, tempted me to open my lunch bag, but I refrained from opening it, fearing of an imminent pandemonium at Kottayam Railway Station. I don't know, I used to become hungry very often, while travelling by train.
Kottayam Railway Station.
No. 19, a young passenger got in with around four baggages.
As expected, there was an argument as to where he would keep his baggages. GV took the lead and suggested him to keep the luggage somewhere else !!
"Do you know, you cannot travel with four baggages!!", GV argued with No. 19.
"I am not travelling for the first time", No. 19 argued back.
Within minutes, the train left Kottayam Railway Station and presumably, due to this heated arguments, No. 19 forgot to say bye to his parents who came to see him off. Poor chap !
Our coupe was full.
Arguments and cross-talks were going on. Never mind, I opened my lunch packet and had my sumptuous lunch.
"Do you know, you are permitted to carry only 35 kg of luggage, when you travel by Sleeper Class...", GV was continuing his law points to this poor chap who was destined to travel in this ill-fated coupe!
As a routine, again, No. 18 continued to check his baggage, unlocked it and locked it back.
The journey continued.
It was almost dark when the train reached Palghat.
"Chhaya... Pazhampori...Choodu Pazhampori...", meaning - "Tea, Banana fry, hot banana fry..." - another platform vendor appeared. The Pazhampori (banana fry) at Palghat Railway Station, for me, had been a nostalgic entity, because that would be the last indigenous Malayali food item on the way to New Delhi by this train. After Palghat, the train enters Coimbatore, the first Tamil Nadu railway station.
Psychologically, the train's leaving Palghat Station always gave me a sad feeling - primarily because of the day-night transition and then perhaps, of the physical movement - away from my own mother State.
The journey continued.
The light was dim within our coupe.
GV was trying to sleep, because none listened to his talking!
No. 18, once again bent down, took out his suitcase, unlocked it, took out something and locked it back.
No. 19 had changed his dress to a shorts and T-shirt by then.
The upper berth-wala who was sitting earlier had started to snore.
I opened The Week once again, but could not read, didn't know why!
Silence in our coupe!
But, a little later, GV diluted his hostile attitude and tried to speak friendly with the co-passengers. He asked me about my work, life in Delhi and later to dinner.
"Did you order dinner?"
"No, I brought lemon rice for dinner."
"Alright. Thats good. Train food is not hygienic, sometimes. Let me freshen up myself and have my food. There is nothing to do in train and hence its better to sleep early".
I nodded my head in agreement and gave way to GV to go to the toilet.
"Whose luggage is this?", GV shouted at everyone around, because a protruding suitcase hit his leg while walking out of the coupe.
I looked at the suitcase. No, that was not my suitcase.
The shouting was loud enough to wake up the snoring upper-berth passenger. He peeped down, looked at the protruding suitcase and went back to the same sleep posture, like an elastic, because that was not his suitcase.
"I am asking, who is the owner of this suitcase?" he walked to the adjacent coupe and repeated the question.
Everyone had a look at the protruding suitcase. None bothered to answer GV, because there were no legitimate owners to this suitcase in the crowd!
"I am going to call the Police! There could be a bomb inside. Who kept it here? Why everybody are careless?"
Standing a few metres away from the suitcase, he instructed the passenger sitting at the single side seat to open the suitcase.
"Why should I open somebody's suitcase? This is not mine. You call the TTE"
"Who is the bloody fool shouting there?" Some passenger from the last end of our compartment shouted back as the noise floating around must have disturbed his sleep.
"I am going to call the TTE and the Police", talking to himself, GV rushed to see the TTE.
Passengers started their discussions on security, safety, train journey, police, bomb explosions etc. But, no one dared to either touch the protruding suitcase or go near the suitcase.
The discussions stopped when GV returned with a battalion comprising TTE, in-train police officials, train attendant etc.
"Sir, this is the suitcase. Nobody here is taking ownership of this suitcase". GV demonstrated.
"When did you notice this suitcase? Did you notice anybody leaving this compartment in a suspicious manner? " The constable started questioning the passengers, in general.
"Did you allow anybody to share your coupe?", TTE also joined the questioning session.
"No, we have not seen anybody suspicious. This coupe was full for a long time", Our No. 19 initiated the response.
"Chandran, open the suitcase", TTE ordered the train attendant.
"Sir....how can I .... " with a fearful expression, Chandran must have lost his senses on hearing TTE's instruction.
"Sir, please do not open the suitcase here. If there is something wrong, then.....", GV pleaded.
"OK. Bring it to our seat. We will lock it and hand over to RPF at the next stopping station", the inspector told the constable. The constable hinted to the TTE and the TTE showed hand signals to the train attendant, Chandran, to carry the suitcase.
Remembering and calling all Gods he knew, Chandran, with fear and hesitation, carried the protruding suitcase to the compartment where the policemen were seated.
For courtesy sake, GV accompanied the 'entourage' and returned to the coupe later with pride and 'self esteem'!
"See, if I was not there.... nobody took the courage to report the case on time.... This is called practical experience....", GV proudly announced.
"But, this has not served the purpose. We will not be safe, till the suit case is handed over at the next station, isnt it?". No. 18 countered.
"Yes, that is fine. But, I have ensured that the suit case is locked in police custody, till the train reaches next station"
The journey continued.
GV was repeatedly doing some self-praising. He was also looking at all the 'not-so-efficient' passengers in turns.
To stop the irritation and change the topic, I intervened and asked GV about his dinner.
"Yes. Let me have my dinner now, peacefully". GV bent down to take out his suitcase.
With a shock, GV asked "hey, where is my suitcase?"
GV searched the entire coupe, including the upper berths. He went to the adjacent coupe, switched on the lights, disturbed sleeping passengers and enquired about his suitcase!
"What is this nonsense? Is he drunk?, Bloody fool! " The same sound from the extreme end of the compartment.
Hysterically, GV searched the entire compartment for his missing suitcase.
"What is the colour and make of your suitcase?" , someone queried.
"VIP - black colour"
"Is that the one you are looking for?", the upper berth-wala woke up again from his sleep and pointed fingers at a suitcase kept under the lower berth.
"No, thats mine.", No. 18 told loudly.
GV checked each and every luggage in our coupe and identified their respective owners.
"Oh! my God! my suitcase is missing. I have kept it in this corner". GV told to all concerned.
"Was that yours? I took it and placed it this side, when mine did not go well under the berth!" , No. 19 passenger clarified.
"That means, the protruding suitcase was mine!!", GV almost fainted, literally.
GV, regaining his senses, rushed to the TTE and requested to return the suitcase which was under "security scanner".
"No, dear friend. I do not have any control on this now. Please approach the police inspector who took this case up"., TTE directed GV to the police compartment.
"Were you dreaming? You could not identify your own baggage that time? , the police inspector shouted at GV.
Being at the receiving end, GV had no points to talk. He was silent like darkness.
"Sir, I agree. That was my mistake. All my necessary and essential items, including food are in that suitcase. I did not keep it at that position. Some other passenger rearranged and hence mine was protruding! Kindly help me", GV begged.
"Hello Mr.! We cannot do anything now, as a case is being lodged and FIR has already been registered. This is now an important case and you will have to appear before the court to get your baggage back. ATS may also look at this case now. Moreover, what is the proof that this is your suitcase?"
The case was getting more and more complicated.
GV feared seeing his photograph in dailies, the next day.
GV continued to beg - but was of no use.
The journey continued.
GV returned to our coupe empty handed.
All his vigour and vitality had vanished by then.
In split of a second, our hero became a zero.
He sought our support.
None were courageous enough to go with him and argue with the police, especially because his was a peculiar case !
Restless GV paid visits to the TTE and to the police compartment a couple of times - but, returned empty handed every time.
GV who was talking too much on security, his previous courageous train journeys, his 'encounters'with TTEs, self praising etc. became silent and a laughing stock to other passengers!
After a while, the train attendant Chandran came to the coupe and called GV.
"Sir is calling you", GV was escorted to the police compartment.
As anticipated, none accompanied GV.
"Show your ticket and identity card", the police inspector instructed.
GV obeyed.
Subsequently, GV was asked to open the suitcase. The key was genuine and that must have convinced the inspector.
GV was asked to write something on a white paper, perhaps a letter to cancel his complaint or whatever. His suitcase was returned to him with some conditions. He was also asked to report at the Railway Police Station in New Delhi on arrival, to complete certain security related formalities.
GV returned to the coupe, with his (once protruded) suitcase.
GV kept awake throughout the night to buy a lock from the next railway Station where the train stopped. His (once protruded) suitcase was locked and ensured that the same was kept under his berth itself.
Like No. 18, GV also bent down frequently and ensured that his suitcase was intact and locked properly.
The journey continued.
But, GV was silent, unlike before!
Wish you a safe journey!
Renjith P Sarada
(C) 2010 Renjith P Sarada. All rights reserved
