Monday, July 26, 2010

the story of my 48-hour train journey

I’ve forgotten all the fun I had co-facilitating the Capacity Building workshop with Michael in Ranchi, Jarkhand and Patna, Bihar and all the nice people I met there when I boarded the train in Patna to Chennai. From the onset, all indications showed it was going to be a horrible journey. First, I had RAC10 (reserve against cancellation) ticket which meant I could get on the train but not have a berth of my own. Well, I would get a berth but I would have to share it with another commuter. Unless 10 people backed out, I would be sitting up all the way to Chennai, over 1500 kilometers, 42-hour journey. I was already on panic mode 2 hours before when I learned about the status of my ticket. Half an hour before my ETD, I almost begged Michael to just let me get on his train to Delhi and proceed to Chennai from there.

A guy from JM Institute (JMI), the organizer of the workshop in Patna, assured me he would talk to the TT (the Train Inspector, please don’t ask how it became to be initialed TT) to inquire about how long I would be on RAC. At the railway station, Khan approached the TT who was either blind or deaf as he was just oblivious to Khan and me standing right in front of him talking. Suffice it to say that we didn’t get any assurance, not even a recognition that we existed. I no longer feigned any weakness and just started to shed tears out of frustration. What was I to do?

The train arrived on time at Platform 2, Michael, Khan and another guy from JMI helped me settle down on the berth assigned to me, second class with air conditioner, coach A1 seat no. 39. The heat inside the coach was ominous of my impending tribulation. Both fan and a/c were off, commuters edged their ways in the narrow aisle. Someone said fans are usually switched on at least 5 minutes before departure. It was 19:45 PM, the ETD was 19:55. Most of the passengers in A1 got out of the train for some air. The train left at 20:05.

July 22, 2010 - the ordeal begins.
20:05. as I said the train departed the Patna Junction station, passengers in my coach used their hands or whatever piece of paper they could get hold of to fan themselves.

20:15,
the fan went on, to our relief. The train made an unscheduled stop.

20:20. Fan went off, train moved, lights flickered, then total darkness.

20:25. Train stopped for 5 minutes, still without a/c nor fan, lights back on.

21:00. Fan went back on, train gained speed. It ran at a steady speed, but not fast enough.

21:20 the fan was out again.

21:45. Fan on

22:10. Fan off. I couldn’t hide my consternation anymore and started cussing. I asked the college students in my coach if we could at least lodge a complaint. Said they already did, but I had no idea how when the TT hasn’t even shown up yet. Asked about the railways management’s response, they looked at one another, smiled and shrugged their shoulders.

22:20. Train stopped at Buxar station, no fan, no breeze from outside. A Tamilian woman working with AID India was visibly annoyed (who could blame her?) and grumbled. ‘they should change the bogey even before we left Patna”. One of the college guys came to tell us the management wanted a proof that complaint was filed before they did anything. What the f…. He added though that ‘problem will be solved’ at Mughal Sarai station, 1 ½ hours from where we currently were.

22:50. Train started to move again still without a fan, dragging all 20 coaches to the next station. I went to the vestibule to get some air. I wanted to say ‘fresh air’ but the stench from the commodes dominated the air. The Tamilian woman came and told her companions who were also at the vestibule, two of them white people, that they could temporarily occupy empty berths in the next coach where the AC was working.

23:05. Fan was back on. Notice how I barely mention a/c now, I’ve dumped any hope of AC by this time.

23:10. The TT came to inspect our tickets. It was my chance to ask about getting my own berth, and be noticed. A woman named Sumitra was to share the berth with me but there was no sign of her so far. I thought I could get a confirmation that I’d have it to myself. If I had to fan myself all night, I was hoping that I could at least do it with my back rested on the bunk. “just a minute, just a minute,” the TT told me. And then he was gone before I could say another word.


23:25.
Fan out as it neared a minor station, lights flickered, teasing us they’re going off anytime. The train stopped again, it seemed to me an unscheduled stop. Or maybe not, cops got out of the train.

23:32. Train left the station, fan on.

23:35. Train crew distributed pillows, bedsheets and blankets. The guy occupying the berth atop mine wanted to make sure he got a blanket. I couldn’t help commenting, “what do you need a blanket for? We’re being stewed alive here”. Regardless, i made sure I had a complete set and immediately spread the bed sheet. I marked my territory. I decided that if ever Sumitra came on board I would dissuade her, tell her to get off while she could for it was infernal on the train.

July 23, 2010 – the ordeal continues

00:30. Feeling more confident that Sumitra had already changed her mind, I dozed off in spite of the heat. I was roused from sleep when the fan went off again as train slowed down. I noticed the pattern; obviously there was not adequate electricity to power the train and the fan at the same time. I was thinking we could have fan on all night but the train won’t move, or the train moves and the manual fans get into action.

I looked out my window, from the look of the station we had reached Mughal Sarai, where ‘problem will be solved’. We were still in the state of Bihar. From my window I saw several men got on our coach with flashlights and cables. A glimmer of hope, I must say.


1:00.
We were exactly where we were half an hour ago. There was no sign at all that the train was going to depart soon. The sauna, er the train still didn’t have the fans on. Most of the passengers were awake, save for a few older women who seemed impervious to the atrocious temperature inside the train.

The Tamilian woman came back to our coach, more outspoken now and carped at the ineptness of railways authorities. “All these railways people, they don’t care. Bhanerjee is not doing anything, and the railways system employs the most number of Indians.” I don’t know who is Bhanerjee, I supposed s/he is the top honcho in the Indian Railways System Authority.

Situation update, no fans, no water in the bathroom, all men were outside the train, swarming around the TTs, demanding the bogey be changed or we all stay till they get the problem fixed. Five hours on the train without any ventilation finally got Indians to rise up and didn’t just accept the often bad customer service accorded to them.

I was back in the vestibule, for want of some good news, I curiously watched the commotion just outside our coach. A red-haired Indian was being pushed and screamed at by an angry railways authority while men gathered around them. Normally, I would be wary if I witnessed a brewing clash, but being here in India for a year (1 year and 2 days to be exact) I’ve observed that Indians are not at all violent. All these pushing, shoving and shouting would dissipate in seconds and no fist would land on any person’s face.

1:11. I went back to my berth, skipping my way over cables that power charged the train generators. For a brief moment a droning sound came from the ACs only to quiet down after about 10 seconds. The AC went on and off but wasn’t cooling the bogey. The stench from the toilet filled the air, flies multiplied by the minute.

1:30. The AC was officially on but was still not cooling the coach. Everyone was still up and about, I started chatting with the Tamilian woman. She and her companions were in Bihar for 6 days, they visited remote communities where their organization provides education assistance. They had a chance to visit Bodh Gaya, site of Buddhist temple with colossal golden statue of Buddha. Michael and I didn’t have the same luck, it was 100 kilometers away from Patna; we didn’t have the luxury of time to see the touristy places of Bihar.

I was tired, sweaty, sleepy, hungry. The pantry crew didn’t serve dinner the night before.

2:54. The train finally revved up its engine and we resumed our journey. The AC failed to work.

3:29. I awoke with the train in total darkness, silence and heat. Too exhausted to even bother I forced myself back to sleep.

6:00. Chai wallas bellowed, “chai, kapi”. I wonder if they knew that we, on that coach, were wide awake through most of the night and would rather doze off than drink tea or coffee. And surprise, surprise, AC was on.

7:30. Allahabad Junction, Uttar Pradesh. We were at last out of Bihar. Got up and had a cup of coffee. AC was still working, thank goodness.

9:30. Still in Allahabad Junction, AC gone, replaced by fan that was threatening to die any minute. Rumor had it that bogey would be changed.

9:45. Police, media people and railways guys in familiar black vests huddled just in front of the coach. Miss Tamil was back to grumbling and me, to cussing. I wanted to defenestrate myself but the window was made of fiber glass and there was a fine of several hundred rupees for breaking the glass windows without a valid reason.

The authorities ultimately got hold of the complaint filed 12 hours ago and decided to do something, ‘we’ll change bogey at the next station’. This phrase was becoming like their ‘tomorrow’, it almost never comes. What’s really infuriating was that they were aware of the problem while we were still in Patna, it would have been the best place to get new coaches but instead delayed any action till people protested against the inhumane condition. Man, the people in these coaches could very well belong to the middle class and paid high price for comfort (not me, mine was paid by JMI). The passengers in the general coach I assumed were in better condition.

9:55. The train left the station sans the AC. Just fan now. Same old inoperative bogey.

10:19. Pantry crew came to take orders for lunch. If they were taking orders now it meant we would be in the same coach till at least after 1 pm, after lunch has been served and consumed. AC was working now, quite stably. Halleluyah.

12:00. Train stopped again. Arggh! It didn’t look like a major and scheduled stop, maybe they were just giving the engine a break.

12:40. Long break the engine had, the train started moving again. The AC was still working. By this time, there was no more agitation, my fellow commuters have submitted to the fact that we’d all never get to our destinations on time. I was still struggling with myself, I thought of invoking the powers of Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu.

14:00. Lunch time was over. The young man atop my berth set up his laptop on the tiny table next to my bunk. We watched Bollywood film called ‘Melenge,’ an obvious and forthright adaptation of Serendipity (John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale). It was in Hindi with occasional subtitles; the curtains in our section of the coach were pulled up so everyone could watch. It was a better treat than the Hollywood movie we watched earlier with my laptop, Turner and Hooch, an old movie that starred Tom Hanks and a brown Rottweiler (don’t trust this one, I have limited knowledge of canine breeds).

From then on, the journey was uneventful, or we were unmindful of the journey. Train still stopped almost every quarter of or half an hour, but with the AC on it was a more comfortable ride.

July 24, 2010

7:30. I decided to get up. My next-bunk neighbors have had their chai. We were already in Andhra Pradesh (AP), just one state away from Chennai, two from Bangalore. I could not hear the drones from the AC, but it was raining in AP so it was okay. I sensed enthusiasm in the people aboard the train. We were just 10 to 16 hours to our destinations, Chennai and Bangalore respectively. The crucial station was Vijayawada. If we reached there without any incident, the next leg would be smooth.

12:00. Train reached Vijawada. Whoopee! Fed up with unsavory meals on train, many got out of to buy provisions for the remaining hours on the train, popcorn, fruit salad, biscuits, ice-cold juices, bananas, ice cream. I got my chocolate ice cream bar for Rs25, while Ms. Tamil got hers for only 20. Darn, I should constantly carry a badge saying “I’m a struggling volunteer. Don’t rip me off”. I can flash it every time I have to purchase something or haggle with rickshaw drivers.

14:00. Another Bollywood movie, comedy this time. I’ve completely lost claim to my berth as there were now 3 people snugly roosted on it as they laughed heartily. It didn’t have subtitle but one of the stars is a finer version of Jude Law, so I stuck it out and finished the movie. The AC was completely out, but it was still cool inside

.18:00. I readied my baggages, only to find out that we wouldn’t reach Chennai till 8 pm. I looked at signages, I couldn’t read them. I was frustrated.

19:30. Suddenly regained my reading proficiency, we were already in Tamil Nadu, half an hour to my destination. Even my neighbors who didn’t speak English, bound for Bangalore were excited.

20:00. Train reached Central Station, there were exchanges of relief, gratitude for the fleeting yet indispensable friendship and wishes of good luck for those were to stay on board for another 6 hours.

After 48 gruelling hours, I am now thinking of my next trip, 28 hours, 2000 kilometers, Chennai to Delhi. Aside from the three major Hindu god this early I’m invoking the powers even of their avatars.