A train journey to remember

Today was an extremely interesting day. I was embarking on my quest to bring back my secret lover from the clutches of a villain who had kidnapped her.

“Which bedtime story did you copy?” asked Nivriti during a telephonic conversation with me.

“Well I got inspired from ‘The Life of Pi.” I replied.

“Oh! I had watched it, but seem to have forgotten it.”

“The narrator had narrated his tragic misadventure in a creative and brilliant fashion.” I explained. 

“The real story in my case is that a client owes me some money and I am going to Assam to get my cash back.

Nivriti burst out into laughter.

I had finished all my daily chores and headed to the great ‘Howrah Station’. Getting there by a car is like riding horseback through a raging war. Nevertheless, I needed to get there and an employee had suggested an alternate route.

As usual, nothing can go impeccably perfect when it involves me. Something has to go wrong, or else it will be defying the natural order of this universe.

It all began with my chauffeur and I getting lost in the windy and narrow streets of Howrah; where every other person on the street had mastered the art of showing wrong directions to the travellers. Somehow we got to our destination on time. My chauffeur was wary of the cops giving him fines for dropping off a passenger near the station. So he dropped me off near a ‘paid parking’ spot. There was a merciless cop sitting right next to the parking area, who menacingly noted down my vehicle number.

Damn! After putting in such a herculean effort to evade a fine, we still managed to get noted. I wonder why the gods feel so sadistically about our lives here on Earth. Never mind, next time I’ll be sure to take a jetty to cross the Ganges; it’ll be much cheaper as well as hassle free.

I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket as I got to the terminal.

“Hello?”

“Sourav! There was too much traffic on the way. I am about to reach the station in 10 more minutes. Has the train arrived at the platform yet?” asked the familiar voice of Mr. Kundu, an associate who was travelling with me to Borpeta Road (Assam).

“I am not in yet, but Anadi said that the train is late.”

“Okay. I am almost there. I had to get down from a bus and take the jetty.” Saying this he hung up.

Thinking how wise it would have been had I taken a jetty, I walked into the terminal.

Howrah station is a scene which few people tend to forget. At any point in the day, one will never find empty seats. On the contrary, people pack up food and bed sheets from their homes only to make Howrah station resemble a picnic spot; with few people taking their siesta. Thankfully one won’t bump into the occasional Frisbee that one encounters in the parks and picnic spots.

I was strolling casually from one platform to another to kill some time, when I decided to ask a man in ‘Khaki’, “Sir, could you tell me which platform would Guwahati express depart from?”

He looked up at me gruffly as though I had interrupted him from making love to his woman and said, “There! That is your train on platform 9 which’ll leave any moment.”

I stood there puzzled. How could it be? My employee Anadi, who had booked our tickets, had informed us that the train was running two hours late and now someone says that it is leaving right away. And what about Mr. Kundu? He was still yet to reach the station and was not picking up my calls. I asked the ‘TT’, “Sir is this Guwahati express?”

He peered over his glasses and replied, “Yes it is.”

I located my coach ‘B2’ and boarded the train. I got to my seat only to find out that a middle aged person had already occupied it. I fished out my ticket from my bag and said, “Sir, seats 9 and 12 belong to me.”

“But 9 is mine” he exclaimed. I was perplexed at his reply.

There was another gentleman seated next to him. He wanted to help us resolve this urgent issue which had cropped up just when the train was about to depart. He asked me to show him my ticket, and I did exactly what was asked of me.

He glanced at my ticket and said “This is Guwahati express alright, but it looks like you have boarded the wrong train.” I was stunned. “You must have booked ‘Kamrup express’ which leaves at 2:30 p.m.”

To add to my horror, the train had started advancing out of the station. I did not waste a single moment to reason out and analyse what had gone wrong, I took back my ticket and trotted out of the compartment and jumped out of the moving train with my luggage. Oh yes! That was the only thing that I hadn’t done in my life- jumping out of a moving train. I looked at my ticket which read the train number to be ‘12507’and the train number written on the compartments was ‘12345’. I had boarded the wrong train.

And it soon resembled an anti-climax scene of a ‘Bollywood’ movie when I saw Mr. Kundu- old as he is- sprinting away to board the train. First, he successfully managed to keep his suitcase on the pedestal of the ladies compartment, and somehow by God’s miracle and mercy, he used up all the remainder of his vigour and might and hopped on to the train which had gained a bit of momentum. All that I could do was look at the last compartment of the train which he boarded, and yell out, “Sir! This was the wrong train.”

I sat down helplessly and tried recollecting and introspecting upon what had just happened, and I could not help but laugh when I recollected the last scene again. It resembled a scene from an old yet popular movie ‘Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge’; where the father, the antagonist has a change of heart, and lets her daughter Simran, go and board the moving train on the pedestal of which stood her lover, the protagonist Raj. The scene had looked extremely familiar only with Mr. Kundu running instead and a woman on the pedestal helping him to the train- minus the romance of course.

With Kamrup having already departed at 2:25 p.m. and with Mr. Kundu boarding the wrong train, I wasn’t left with any other option but to catch the ferry back home. But then, I felt I should wait and inform Mr. Kundu that he had boarded the wrong train that was headed to the right destination. And since the train was headed to Borpeta Road, it was a much better idea for him to bribe the ‘TT’ and take a ride till the destination. After all, something is better than nothing; there was still some chance of recovering the money if he continued alone, as compared to none of us getting there.

The phone buzzed again.

“Hello. I managed to board the train with great difficulty” said the person from the other end.

“I saw the ‘difficulty’ with which you boarded the train. You should probably get an award for this humongous achievement.”

He burst out into laughter. “I am in the women’s compartment. I’ll find my way to the correct compartment. ‘B2’ isn’t it?

“Sir, your efforts went in vain. You boarded the wrong train.”

“Wrong? What are you even saying? Somebody told me this was the train” he bawled in dismay.

“Yeah, someone had told me the same, and I even managed to get down. But, you carry on with your journey. Don’t get down in the next station.” Saying this I hung up.

I was extremely angry with Anadi for having misguided us. But then, to his defence, the train ticket read ‘Guwahati express’ and not ‘Kamrup express’. So I decided not to yell at him. I called him up and said, “Do you know what you just did? You booked the wrong train and gave us the wrong information.”

He was bamboozled on hearing my saga.

“But sir! On the web page, it shows that the train hasn’t arrived yet” he exclaimed. “Why don’t you visit the enquiry counter and check with them. They’ll be able to guide you better. But trust me when I say so, your train is yet to arrive.”

So I walked up to the enquiry and waited for my turn to ask them about my train. There was a passenger in front of me in the queue. The middle-aged woman on the computer was typing at snail’s pace, pressing one character at a time. It was as though she had all the world’s time at her disposal. It was the frenzied passengers that needed to be somewhere after all.

Finally, it was my turn and I inquired about my train.

“The train is waiting outside the station.”

“Could you please tell me the platform number? I asked.

“You’ll get to know when they announce it” she barked.

Anadi called back again to find out about the train. He was equally anxious as I was still his boss and he must have felt that I could always blame him if I wished.

“The train still hasn’t reported to the platform.” I said

He felt relieved on hearing that. “Sir, Mr. Kundu has boarded the ‘Saraighat Express’ and your train and that train have a common station at Bolpur. So I will tell him to get down at Bolpur and board your train”

“Very well then.” I said as I hung up.

After all of this drama, the good news was that I did not miss the train and Mr. Kundu would be joining me from Bolpur as well. I still had some time to spare so I sauntered along the platforms witnessing God’s extraordinary creation- man and woman (and some animals too). Here, one could see people from extreme and diverse backgrounds; people from all the corners of India (there were some foreigners as well). Some people had come to receive their loved ones- some even carried their pets around; lots of people waiting patiently to board different trains; porters pushing around colossal loads of luggage on trolleys; military carrying their handsome sniffing dogs to sniff out bombs or drugs. Amidst all of this hustle and bustle, there were some people who were fast asleep. All of them will be on their way soon, and will never get to know the amusing incident that I just encountered. And that is how life is I guess; where everybody is simply a mute spectator, a background character in another’s dynamic life.  

So keeping my spirits high, I guess I would finally rescue the damsel in distress and get her home.