Today happens to be the 160th anniversary of India's first passenger train journey that had taken place from Bori Bunder, in Bombay to Thane. On 16 Apr 1853, covering a distance of 34 kms, the train was hauled by three locomotives named Sahib, Sindh and Sultan!
The Indian Railways has grown into a vibrant organisation, undoubtedly the largest public sector undertaking in the world and covers the entire nation by its footprint. It's also important to understand that it's accessible to the poorest of the poor. The flip side has been that successive governments have milked the organisation to pamper their vote bank and consequentially, its growth has not been in the manner it should have been.
But I shall take a break from the stark realities and ruminate on the memories that I've picked up from my train journeys, on this occasion. And here I go......
(a) A lasting friendship.
Dinesh and Indu are my local guardians whenever I'm at Bombay. They'd feel let down if I were to stay at
any other place other than their lovely flat, opposite the Opera House at Chowpatti. And they're the perfect
hosts.
We'd become friends thanks to a flash strike by the locomen of the southern railway. No trains were
allowed to ply, by the striking workers, except for the Madras-Dadar express which had a few coaches
from the Kerala express attached at the Arakkonam junction and your's truly happened to be travelling by
the same train, headed for my first appointment on board a ship, at Bombay. Prodded by the TTE,
the Kapadias who're in Madras on work, had approached me for help and I'd readily agreed to share
my berth and by the end of the journey, we'd become good friends and there has been no looking back!
(b) On pulling the chain.
Another occasion, another journey! I was on my way for my flying training. A family consisting of the
husband, wife and their kindergarten-going daughter shared the coupe with your's truly and we'd set off
from Thiruvananthapuram by about 10 in the morning. Shortly after lunch, the gentleman had complained
about a bad pain on the rear side of his head(it was unusual, so I thought!), writhed in pain for a while and
became still. I remember having gone in search of a doctor in the coach in futility - there were neither
vestibule connections nor were we armed with mobile phones. I'm talking of an earlier vintage, the late '70s
- and finally, had pulled the chain. Gosh, I'd to literally hang on to that damn chain as the train came to a
grinding halt at a desolate stretch, about 45 kms short of Madurai.
The worst was confirmed by a doctor who's travelling in another coach and between the guard, the
doctor-in-attendance and me, we'd decided to disembark the family at Madurai. I can still hear the wails
of the lady - as I write this piece - as the train slowly started chugging out of the station for its onward journey. The patient was declared 'brought in dead' by the railway hospital nearby and efforts were on to contact the family's near and dear ones, both at Thiruvananthapuram and at Madras.
(c) Bruno's popularity.
Our journey by the Ist class a/c coupe of the Rajdhani, from Delhi to Thiruvananthapuram, every year
with our pet Dobermann, Bruno, was a treat for more reasons than one. He loved the attention and the
food and behaved as though it was he who owned the train! His forays outside, for the nature's call, was
always a matter of touch and go, but the guards were always accommodating and would keep the train
waiting for that fraction of a minute extra, to help me and Bruno in.
Bruno was popular among the attendants on the train who vied with each other to give that extra piece
of a chicken leg or a piece of bone and we're merely his glorified attendants, as conveyed by his behaviour.
At least that's the impression that he gave to an outsider by his haughty countenance throughout the
duration of the journey - but we didn't mind it a wee bit!
Tailpiece.
I think I can go on and on with the flood of memories coming by but more on them later as the piece is getting to be unwieldy by its length. But before signing off I can't help but remember my journeys in the innards of the steam locomotives after striking a rapport with the locomen. On term breaks from the NDA headed for home, I used to enjoy their largesse and still remember the cosy warmth within - courtesy the blazing twin furnaces and I've even tried my hand at shovelling coal into the furnaces - compared to the harsh nip outside.
RIP Mr. Louis Fernandez and Mr. Ramanathan for giving me the privilege of knowing you. The lessons that you'd taught me during those trysts have been invaluable in my journey through life. It's the perseverance and the dedication that you've displayed and inherited by your juniors, that have made the Indian Railways what it is today. My salutes!
The Indian Railways has grown into a vibrant organisation, undoubtedly the largest public sector undertaking in the world and covers the entire nation by its footprint. It's also important to understand that it's accessible to the poorest of the poor. The flip side has been that successive governments have milked the organisation to pamper their vote bank and consequentially, its growth has not been in the manner it should have been.
But I shall take a break from the stark realities and ruminate on the memories that I've picked up from my train journeys, on this occasion. And here I go......
(a) A lasting friendship.
Dinesh and Indu are my local guardians whenever I'm at Bombay. They'd feel let down if I were to stay at
any other place other than their lovely flat, opposite the Opera House at Chowpatti. And they're the perfect
hosts.
We'd become friends thanks to a flash strike by the locomen of the southern railway. No trains were
allowed to ply, by the striking workers, except for the Madras-Dadar express which had a few coaches
from the Kerala express attached at the Arakkonam junction and your's truly happened to be travelling by
the same train, headed for my first appointment on board a ship, at Bombay. Prodded by the TTE,
the Kapadias who're in Madras on work, had approached me for help and I'd readily agreed to share
my berth and by the end of the journey, we'd become good friends and there has been no looking back!
(b) On pulling the chain.
Another occasion, another journey! I was on my way for my flying training. A family consisting of the
husband, wife and their kindergarten-going daughter shared the coupe with your's truly and we'd set off
from Thiruvananthapuram by about 10 in the morning. Shortly after lunch, the gentleman had complained
about a bad pain on the rear side of his head(it was unusual, so I thought!), writhed in pain for a while and
became still. I remember having gone in search of a doctor in the coach in futility - there were neither
vestibule connections nor were we armed with mobile phones. I'm talking of an earlier vintage, the late '70s
- and finally, had pulled the chain. Gosh, I'd to literally hang on to that damn chain as the train came to a
grinding halt at a desolate stretch, about 45 kms short of Madurai.
The worst was confirmed by a doctor who's travelling in another coach and between the guard, the
doctor-in-attendance and me, we'd decided to disembark the family at Madurai. I can still hear the wails
of the lady - as I write this piece - as the train slowly started chugging out of the station for its onward journey. The patient was declared 'brought in dead' by the railway hospital nearby and efforts were on to contact the family's near and dear ones, both at Thiruvananthapuram and at Madras.
(c) Bruno's popularity.
Our journey by the Ist class a/c coupe of the Rajdhani, from Delhi to Thiruvananthapuram, every year
with our pet Dobermann, Bruno, was a treat for more reasons than one. He loved the attention and the
food and behaved as though it was he who owned the train! His forays outside, for the nature's call, was
always a matter of touch and go, but the guards were always accommodating and would keep the train
waiting for that fraction of a minute extra, to help me and Bruno in.
Bruno was popular among the attendants on the train who vied with each other to give that extra piece
of a chicken leg or a piece of bone and we're merely his glorified attendants, as conveyed by his behaviour.
At least that's the impression that he gave to an outsider by his haughty countenance throughout the
duration of the journey - but we didn't mind it a wee bit!
Tailpiece.
I think I can go on and on with the flood of memories coming by but more on them later as the piece is getting to be unwieldy by its length. But before signing off I can't help but remember my journeys in the innards of the steam locomotives after striking a rapport with the locomen. On term breaks from the NDA headed for home, I used to enjoy their largesse and still remember the cosy warmth within - courtesy the blazing twin furnaces and I've even tried my hand at shovelling coal into the furnaces - compared to the harsh nip outside.
RIP Mr. Louis Fernandez and Mr. Ramanathan for giving me the privilege of knowing you. The lessons that you'd taught me during those trysts have been invaluable in my journey through life. It's the perseverance and the dedication that you've displayed and inherited by your juniors, that have made the Indian Railways what it is today. My salutes!
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