My worst train journey!!!
"Dude, did you check out that swanky new Mercedes SLK 350 parked at city center?" I ask my friend. He opens his mouth to answer but I cut him short and continue jabbering" the SLK 350 has a 7-speed automatic transmission, delivering 272 hp at 6000 rpm and 360Nm torque, this performance package covers 0-100 kmph in an amazing 5.5 seconds!!!” Feeling pleased with my knowledge on the latest "beasts" and with the hope that some day I might own one, we continue traversing the crowded streets.
Lungs filled with noxious fumes and bodies crying for rest, we could only sigh with ennui. A sense of relief overwhelmed my body as I finally spotted our destination - Mamballam station. The usual sights greeted us on our way to the station, vendors selling fruits, pirated DVDs of the latest movies, beggars each having their unique deformity and half of Chennai's population.
I managed to count about thirty-three lakh seventy four thousand three hundred and thirty seven heads, but my dear friend corrected me saying that there were three lakh seventy seven thousand four hundred and forty one people and pointed out that I had missed out the beggars and workers. The sense of relief which we felt as we approached the station disappeared but the void space was filled by another feeling, that of panic.
After walking another mile I finally reached the end of the queue hoping to get our tickets in a couple of hours. I could hear my usually reticent friend swearing aloud and I could understand his pain. After what seemed like an eternity I finally reached the counter and managed to get hold of two tickets. The yellow tickets were no less than gold. I placed them carefully in my pocket like my life depended on it because I knew that it was this tiny piece of cardboard that would get us out of here.
Suddenly there was panic. The ground started vibrating. “Earthquake”, I thought. No this was worse. It was the train, which we were waiting for. The scene in the station looked more like a battlefield and my friend and I joined in the struggle hoping to get a part of our body into the train. Nevertheless, I managed to get into the train and stood in various yogic positions, which would give Baba Ramdev a run for his money. The vendors selling the usual ‘sundal’ and fruits didn’t make the situation particularly easy. As the stations went by the crowd got lesser and finally after what felt like a decade we reached our destination. We walked back in silence but the silence spoke a million words. We just had our worst train journey ever.
Lungs filled with noxious fumes and bodies crying for rest, we could only sigh with ennui. A sense of relief overwhelmed my body as I finally spotted our destination - Mamballam station. The usual sights greeted us on our way to the station, vendors selling fruits, pirated DVDs of the latest movies, beggars each having their unique deformity and half of Chennai's population.
I managed to count about thirty-three lakh seventy four thousand three hundred and thirty seven heads, but my dear friend corrected me saying that there were three lakh seventy seven thousand four hundred and forty one people and pointed out that I had missed out the beggars and workers. The sense of relief which we felt as we approached the station disappeared but the void space was filled by another feeling, that of panic.
After walking another mile I finally reached the end of the queue hoping to get our tickets in a couple of hours. I could hear my usually reticent friend swearing aloud and I could understand his pain. After what seemed like an eternity I finally reached the counter and managed to get hold of two tickets. The yellow tickets were no less than gold. I placed them carefully in my pocket like my life depended on it because I knew that it was this tiny piece of cardboard that would get us out of here.
Suddenly there was panic. The ground started vibrating. “Earthquake”, I thought. No this was worse. It was the train, which we were waiting for. The scene in the station looked more like a battlefield and my friend and I joined in the struggle hoping to get a part of our body into the train. Nevertheless, I managed to get into the train and stood in various yogic positions, which would give Baba Ramdev a run for his money. The vendors selling the usual ‘sundal’ and fruits didn’t make the situation particularly easy. As the stations went by the crowd got lesser and finally after what felt like a decade we reached our destination. We walked back in silence but the silence spoke a million words. We just had our worst train journey ever.
© Ashish Kalsi., all rights reserved.
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