First , of all , there was this waiting room on the rooftop of Platform number 16 . Someone told me that it is an platform number one . When I chugged myself and my tired stroller there , I stood facing the exit sign . Both of us stared at each other for some time , and I realised that even if the train was three hours late , it was not worth exiting the station , and reentering it . Seeing the serpentine queues at the luggage scanners.
There was an exclusive kind of waiting area , where you are insulated from the rest of the world , the noise ,the smells ,and sights , and I didn't want to miss that .
Hence "Upper Class Waiting Room ". They charge you 20/- for two hours and ten rupees for every extra one hour . A small and brightly lit , overloaded eatery lies bang at the entrance . I decided to take a cardamom tea cup with me . Holding a stroller , a papercup of tea spilling hot spurious fluid at each step , and a purse was a bit of a challenge , and I remember crossing the door and finding a spot to sit too. Commendable .
There were giant TV screens on every wall , and they were all defunct. Meaning black . Unplugged . There were pairs of charging points on the walls , at regular intervals . All had tell tale burnt marks next to the holes . All were burnt , defunct . I started checking at the western wall , came to north , eastern wall had one point where the phone flickered to life . Temporarily . Before lapsing into stubborn silence . Trial and error revealed one particular angle of the plug in device and another particular angle of the phone .
It was next to an overflowing dustbin and a black giant TV screen.
The tea tastes like ground brick , it looks like that too . Have to abandon it .
A speaker somewhere played a bollywood tune , which was old and a favourite , based on another old english tune , which was also old and a favourite . "If you miss the train ." "Gar koi baat bigad jaye ". Both were appropriate , in the present settings . Apt .
Then a huge luggage carrying handcart was wheeled in , with great difficulty by a guy who was distributing newspapers ,while I was at the east wall , and was brooming the aisle when I was struggling at the north wall . It contained massive containers of curd , with "Dahi" clearly written on them . Only , they were'nt carrying curd . It was yellow , fragrant and steaming hot liquid . Sambhar . It mobilised the" Janta".
A small boy , with vociferous determination , tugged at the hands of his mother towards the cart , which in a corner revealed a box of frozen ice cream on stick. The mother tugged him back , equally noisily . The father asked the elder boy , who was sucking his sweater sleeve , absently , while hypnotised by the sight of popsicles ., to throw a used paper cup . The son screwed up his face , saying "why me ?" He was stared down , and he made his way gingerly across to me , where I was sitting next to the overflowing dustbin . A cleaner lady was attempting to sweep up more cups and trash from the floor , and stuff it up into the bin . Another occupier of the last bench and me sat up with our legs pulled up , to facilitate the sweeping process , and this boy , with a disgusted face , comes and dumps the cup on the growing trash heap on floor . The cleaning lady looks up in dismay , frowns , catches my eye , smiles sadly and proceeds to pick up everything off the floor with gloved hands . Thankful for the glove .
Others have also noticed the hot sambhar trolley , and now the queue at the food stall grows longer and idlis and vadas fly off the cart , even before they can be rearranged on glass shelves . Brisk business . My phone shows 76% charge . I disconnect . My poor neighbour sighs in relief and quickly plugs in his mobile . He was waiting for me to disconnect . My train has been announced , and despite it being three hours late , the platform it is going to dock at , has been revealed , so I must make a move .
If you are a woman , and you are travelling alone , you will get stared at . Regardless of your age , and what you are wearing .
At a metro junction , a young haryanvi guy launched into a tutorial , as to how to correctly pull my stroller . When I turned to look at him , he realised I was a woman , and he recoiled , as if he had touched a snake .
My trips are replete with such instances . Once I took the help of a coolie (I was probably carrying heavy luggage , don't remember ), and when he came to know that I was from the medical profession , he instantly wanted to discuss his erectile dysfunction with me . He was chewing tobacco , his teeth were rotten. Emaciated , he probably had a carcinoma lurking inside of him , eating away his innards, and all he wanted to discuss was erectile dysfunction . As if nothing else mattered .
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The railway platform was windy and cold , and cloudless . But full of food and good cheer . The train had been announced , even the array of coaches displayed , but it refused to come . Other trains (whose coaches were not displayed , or names not announced ) came and went , with impunity . No one seemed to be bothered by such ludicrous anomalies . A man next to me bought a packet written Janta Nashta on it , and continued to eat spiced potatoes with puri, with a meagre price of rupees 15 , printed on it .
A group of muslim gents , probably afghanis , looking like straight out of Amar Chitra Kathas , short broad end pyjamas, pocketed kurtas , enormous blackish turbans, fair unwashed faces , blue eyes and blond beards . They were numerous and single handedly demolished the fruit cart wallah's stock of bananas. They picked up various fruits (apples , oranges ,pomegranates )in their hands , examined them , talked agitatedly about them , and put them back , much to fruit wallah's relief .
A train arrived from Katra , and some people started chanting slogans . A mini stampede ensued as people started running away . Fear spread like an invisible gas . I got up and stood next to a sardarji , the only familiar icon . I asked in punjabi ," hope there is no trouble brewing ." He answered reassuringly back "No , just some crazy people." Then he shooed a sticky coolie away from my side .
Another stranger come to my rescue .
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After what seemed an entire day , my train arrived .
The train chugged in a full three hours fifty minutes late . That was what was announced on the platform . Add that to the fifteen minutes that the train waited on the platform ( scheduled stop only 2 min ) and we were fours hours plus . Well, there you go . If you start counting the minutes , it becomes terrible , agonising . The faster , more efficient trains , the Shatabdis and Rajdhanis didnt have any seat for a sudden traveller like me , hence this long distance train , coming all the way from Mumbai .
There were two portly Gujarati Businessmen to my right , who ate , burped , complained , bribed the attendant ( for first class food ) , and ate some more . They would pull their curtains when eating , and when in mood , would discuss politics with their neighbours (ugh ).
I took out my book and pretended to be submerged in it . Two Punjabi brothers of the age group 10-8 , played around on my berth , jumping , swinging , chasing each other , hiding behind curtains , and in moments of quiet contemplation , looking at me , as an alien , dropping biscuit crumbs on me and my book . The mother sat across from me and was trifle disappointed in me , as I would not initiate friendly conversation, neither would I engage with her "adorable " boys . I had just returned from a hospital ICU . Wasn't in the best of my moods and the ambience didn't help . The window was hogged . I was reduced to a small , unwanted , central portion of the berth I had paid for . It was unfair and disgusting .
It was blazing . It had been like that since six am .
Actually rocky .And dusty . Dust bowl kind of a place . With outcroppings , sudden undulations . There was not even a clear road to follow , for Christ’s sake .
“How do you navigate this woebegone place ?” She wailed for the nth time .
“Here “. He tapped his head dramatically . ” It is all in here. All the maps you’ll ever need . All the weather charts . ” He smiled , a lips-caked-with -dust smile . Happy , nevertheless.
“How can you be so happy ? And so arrogant ? All the time ?” She skipped to keep up with him . Panting slightly . He was annoying but the only human in this vast waste . What was she doing here ? With a cro-magnon man for company ? Who didn’t mind dust and sun and treeless , lifeless moonscape they were trudging on .
Actually , he was walking . Steadily . Plonk , plonk , his huge stick hit the hard earth.
She was just surviving . Slowly following his lead , in his giant shadow.
He didn’t answer . He rarely spoke . Saving his energies . Another survival skill she lacked .
She spoke too much . She thought . She speaks too much . he thought .
A kite swirled lazily overhead. Slowly whistling . She shaded her eyes and looked up . If it was a giant kite , it could mistake us for rats. She looked at the outcrop looming ahead . A sun bleached , white , undulating , lifeless mass of caked dirt .
She wondered what the kite ate , in order to survive. That thought prompted hunger . Thoughtlessly , she ran a tongue on her parched lips . And immediately tasted the desert .Salt and sand and dust . “Ptooi” , she spat noisily . Another mistake . He had spoken on the necessity to not spit . Conserve body fluids .
“Water ?” He spoke finally . Framed against the outcropping , he looked askance at her . She shook her head . Being brave . Saving water .Precious , life giving fluid.
She looked up , and saw something terribly familiar , and terribly out of place . The unmistakable globe of a femoral head , white, bleached , gigantic , sticking out of the outcropping . The shaft concealed in dirt . Eroded but a bone , nevertheless.
“Mastodon bone !” She shrieked .
“Where ?” He whirled around startled as if she had seen a snake .
“There ” She pointed to the outcropping behind him .
“What ? No !! That be rocks ”
“No rocks .” Rejuvenated by the sight , she raced ahead of him . Dislodging pebble showers , she nimbly climbed up , cupped her trembling palms around the mound , triumphantly announcing ” I told you !!”
He sighed . He knew the signs . Trusted her instincts. Whisking out the walkie-talkie , he barked some commands . A team was on the way.