SUNDAY POST FEB 8-14
SANJOY K.SATPATHY
Sikkim was the only state the two brothers Madan and Mohan had not visited. So they left for Gangtok on a wintery morning from Bhubaneswar to watch the serpentine Teesta river flowing through the ravines, and feel the snow, breathe fresh cold air, see the exotic forests and enjoy nature. As luck would have it there was a carnival show in Gangtok held at the main market complex of MG road.
The two brothers, who had a wide age difference, had however no problem sharing a room and travelling together. They could adjust to the best and worst of conditions without uttering a word. They were assisted by Sadasiv babu, a friend of Madan, who worked with BSNL in Gangtok. Christmas and New Year were approaching. The railway tickets for the return journey to Bhubaneswar were still on the waiting list.
All three of them had hoped that they could get into any train coming via Adra to Bhubaneswar from NJP (New Jalpaiguri) but changed their plan as boarding those long distance trains was not feasible; at the last moment they decided to catch the Shatabdi from NJP to Howrah. As the train starts from NJP they were hopeful of getting sitting accommodation for their 10-hour journey to Howrah. They stayed at a hotel overnight to catch the 5 am Shatabdi, an all AC chair car train. They purchased three first class tickets, but the conductor was furious and behaved in such a manner with a class one government officer of BSNL and another senior citizen as if they were dirt and he a British officer of the pre-independence era who owned the Railways! No amount of request could change his opinion of allotting just two seats in an otherwise empty train. With two sleepless nights Mohan was upset. But for his elder brother he would have manhandled the TT for his behaviour who had asked for a huge bribe from them.
One vendor who was observing the plight of the three said, “You three are unfit for the present era. You people should have got into the train with those first class tickets and occupied some seats. Railway personnel are always on the lookout for people to pinch some bribe. They harass the public like characters of the Hindi serial ‘Office Office’. They will never change.”
While handing over the earthen tea cups the vendor advised, “Catch the Kanchenjunga express at 7:10 am and go to Sealdah. From there take a taxi to Howrah.” Real good idea, the three thought. They boarded an unreserved overcrowded compartment close to the diesel engine and squeezed themselves in different seats. Sleepless nights and spicy food, they had a hell of an experience travelling in an unreserved compartment. Sadasiv babu jokingly asked Madan, “Have you ever travelled this way, earlier?”
“Yes, some 50 years back. You see nothing has changed much. Actually we are cattle and deserve no better than travelling cattle class,” replied Madan. A young girl accompanied by her father who was seated in front smiled and said, “How funny a remark! But you could have got a first class ticket.”
“We tried but the TT thought we are uncultured people and if we had persisted he would have treated us in very much the same way the Mahatma was treated – by being inflicted with verbal slings and arrows like ‘coolie and black-skinned’,” Mohan said.
The vendors in that overcrowded compartment were having a great time. The skill with which they navigated the narrow passageways without spilling their stuff earned the appreciation of the passengers. From tea, coffee, masala mudhi, chilly fried Bengal gram, guava, fried peanuts, boiled eggs and oranges, you name it and you have it, all priced at Rs 10. The three of them had different things taking care to pick out and throw away the green chilies.
Malda was the next big station where the train waited 12 minutes. Neither a ticket-checker nor a sweeper arrived in that overcrowded compartment. The three of them purchased some mango pulp for home which was cheap and neatly packed. One could watch miles and miles of mango orchards through the windows of the compartment not far from the railway lines. The mangoes of Malda are called ‘Ghani Mangoes’ after the late Railway Minister of that name who represented Malda in the Lok Sabha. Fondly called ‘Barkatda’, he had renovated the Malda railway station and had made a significant contribution in the development of rail lines in the region.
The three idiots reached Sealdah late and took a taxi to Howrah. This time they boarded the last compartment of Puri Express. The unreserved compartments are always placed as shock-absorbers in the rear or next to the engine so that in case of an accident these ‘unreserved’ passengers can, by sacrificing their lives, protect the sophisticated passengers inside. The compartment was probably made during the colonial era and subsequently upgraded with a coat of fresh blue paint but the seats had no cushions and a few wage labourers sat on the floor between rows of seats. There were at least 200 people in that class II compartment that could accommodate only 70! No presswallah or cameraman or human rights activist has ever come to take a photograph or speak to the people in such compartments.
Many women were standing and a few were seated on the floor guarding their belongings. The two brothers and their friend spoke to people going to Puri to have darshan of Lord Jaganath; many were going to Cuttack and Bhubaneswar where they worked. One middle-aged man had brought 25 kg of ‘chotua’ for his group which he said would last a month. A majority of them were from Bihar and Jharkhand. Most of the windows had missing glass panes and some were difficult to open but the occupants adjusted themselves as the train moved on. Cold wind rushing in through the broken panes helped the passengers breathe fresh air. This time too there was no ticket-checker who had probably thought that the bounty would not be worth the trouble.
Mohan bade a tearful adieu to Madan and got down at Balasore station shortly after midnight. Sadasiv and Madan reached Bhubaneswar before sunrise and reached their respective places safely. Madan’s wife on seeing him said, “You smell badly. Change your clothes and take a hot water bath.”
Later, while downloading the scenic majesty of Sikkim from his memory card, Madan mused that India has such beautiful places. However, its squalor, too, is unbearable.
