The Mail to Mumbai

Pride of Central Railways, running since British Raj Time and covering seven Indian states and a distance of 1930 kilometres, is supposed to be fastest Indian train between Mumbai (Bombay) and Delhi via Bhopal. That is historic Punjab Mail. It is now classified as Superfast Train, some of Indian’s better running trains. But it doesn’t move that way. It moves mostly at snail speed, halting almost at every station on way, on scheduled halts as well as on unscheduled ones. The timings on the northern sides also add to the memorable experiences in the train.

Some time back, I had to travel between New Delhi and Nasik. The timings were odd at both ends. At New Delhi the train departs at 5:30 AM and at Nasik Road it reaches at 3:10 AM next morning. Simply one cannot have full sleep on both the nights of travel. And it takes it almost twenty four hours to cover a distance of 1400 kilometres, a simple shame on its Superfast status. The shame started right from the beginning of the journey. After spoiling my sleep, waking up at 3 AM and leaving my house at 4:15 AM, I reached New Delhi Railway Station at 4:45 AM only to find that the Superfast train is arriving fifteen minutes late at 5:15 AM from Freozepur in Punjab, it’s starting station. One might have woken up early, but New Delhi station is almost sleeping at five in the morning. Being most important Indian railway station, hardly any through train cross it at night. And there are literally no starting or terminating trains here between midnight and six in the morning. But I was lucky enough to find some newspaper and snacks kiosks open at the platform. And a nice cup of espresso was a good feeling in the morning chill.

The train arrived as expected fifteen minutes late. To add to my inconvenience I was allotted an upper bunk against my reservation. I was travelling in First Class AC, the most superior class in Indian Railways, except few luxury tourists’ train. But in India getting an upper bunk in any class of travel by train can cause inconvenience especially at such an early morning hour of boarding. Punjab mail has only half a carriage of First AC class comprising of just five lower and five upper bunks in three cabins. There was no one at the carriage gate to guide me to my place, so I moved myself. The lights of my cabin were switched off. The railway time to switch on is 6 AM though people keep lying on their bunks till much later with lights switched off. So I was not surprised. I was surprised to find that the bed linen of my bunk was already laid neatly. The attendant would have done that at night itself to avoid disturbing his sleep so early in the morning. The cabin had four bunks two upper and two lower, the latter getting converted into seating couches for four during day, accommodating the upper bunk passengers also. But officially or unofficially the time then was not for that, so I was to adjust myself on my upper bunk, lying or sitting, whichever way I like. The bunk below mine was occupied, with a passenger having a sound sleep there. The person lying on the other lower bunk got up all of a sudden, wore his slippers and moved out picking his handbag in a hurry, as if he has seen New Delhi station in his dream. While moving out he shook up the passenger sleeping on the other upper bunk, telling him that the train is at New Delhi. The other person said OK in his sleep, without making much action. It happens in Indian trains.

I climbed up to my bunk and tried to catch up my lost sleep, and I dozed off soon. I was first woken up by the conductor for ticket check and then after few minutes by a waiter making all sorts of noises for taking orders for breakfast. I ordered one. Half an hour later I was woken up again by same waiter, who served breakfast at 7:30 AM. I got up and had it sitting on my upper bunk. I got down after breakfast and sat on one empty lower bunk. The other two gentlemen woke up soon and sat on the other bunk. They got busy in a talk. From their talk it was clear that they happened to be from an organisation, which I had left a year back after a long service there. Travelling First Class AC and their age meant that they were fairly senior officers. Off course, they had no means to know that. They were talking about some senior personnel who were facing disciplinary charges, about which I knew very well. I made no reaction and kept on enjoying listening to their talk, and they, thinking that I have nothing to do with their talk, kept leaking out lot of information, which they shouldn’t have. Their talk came to an end at Mathura, where surprisingly train has reached in time. Both got off there.

I saw the reservation charts at Mathura and saw that the other passengers of my cabin will board only at Jhansi, which was good about five hours away. As train started I sat listening to music from my mobile phone including a German old song which I used to listen when I learned German some twenty one years back. I came across this song on internet a night back and had downloaded it. After a short nap, I was woken up again by the same waiter asking for the lunch. I ordered lunch as well as dinner, and asked him to send one of the waiters serving tea. And it was nightmare throughout the journey to find them. They definitely came when one did not need them, at times disturbing one’s sleep. Else they passed by quickly announcing their presence so late, that by the time one could slide open the cabin’s door, they used to be gone. And the taste of their tea was also nothing too great. I tried coffee but that too had similar flavour. No matter, that one was travelling in the premier class of railways.

I adjusted according to the environment. I did get a nap after some time. When I woke up, I would have slept for an hour or so and found that train had halted somewhere outside Agra. It moved at snail speed to reach Agra Cantt station almost an hour late. I had good memories of Agra and Taj, which I recalled in my thoughts at the station as train halted for almost forty minutes there against a scheduled halt of ten minutes. I mostly watched the greenery from my window as train moved again. It was halting time and again to give pass to other faster or important train. A disappointment, as I too had paid premium of super fast charges for travelling in this train.

It reached Gwalior, another historic city, after two hours. I decided to drink a cup of coffee from a station vendor to have a better taste. As there it was having a longer halt, giving pass to another train, I moved around to a spot to have a look on a historic palace nearby, which housed my organisation and office some years back. I climbed back in the train when signal turned green. The train was now over two hours late. The lunch too came before I expected it. The taste was absolutely awful. I hurried it up for a good short nap in the afternoon. At Jhansi, the whole staff of the carriage came to a stand to. And it was to welcome an old couple that was to travel in my cabin. The gentleman happened to be an old railway employee. As customary with Indian Railways journey, once the lower berth passenger takes possession of his prized bunk, the upper berth passenger has to voluntarily relax on his berth. So after usual greetings and chat I shifted to my upper berth and divided my time between music, reading and short naps.

I was woken up in the evening by train vendor providing dinner. It was equally awful as the lunch. I waited to start it, till the time the old couple was served their dinner by the carriage staff. Train maintained its two-hour late profile at Bhopal, and a prolonged halt there ensured that it would not reach Nasik before five in the morning, which actually suited me. At Bhopal the third and final passenger, a young good looking girl going to Mumbai, was accommodated on the vacant upper berth opposite mine. She was shifted from another all male cabin to give her the safety of the old couple’s company. She probably did not need any meal and positioned herself straight on her berth, getting dissolved in music on her mobile phone. She dropped her mobile phone charger, without knowing it. I had no option but to pick it up and give it to her, as I did not expect the old couple to do that. And it happened to be my only talk with her.

Though train was late I was still concerned about the arrival at Nasik. Although it was not likely to reach there before five in the morning against scheduled time ot three AM, I wanted to take no risk. The attendant of the carriage was travelling in the other part of it. I went all the way up to him to request him to wake me up at Manmad, which comes an hour before Nasik. He agreed uninterestingly. I doubted him. So I made another request to the technical staff of the carriage also. They, cursing the attendant, almost took guarantee to wake me up well before Nasik and asked me to sleep without any worry. That was big relief to me. Still, I triple ensured my timely waking up by putting a four AM alarm in my mobile phone. I climbed up my bunk and shuffling between my novel, music on mobile phone and occasional glimpse of the beautiful girl on the opposite upper berth, I dozed off.

The alarm went off in time, and I was lucky to hear it. I got up and I came out off the cabin. The technical staff that assured me was fast asleep in their cage. I moved to other side of the carriage and there too the attendant was also fast asleep. I shook him and asked where exactly the train was. He was not very pleased to be woken up, but told me that Manmad had been left behind some ten minutes back. I was shocked but it was no point to argue with him, as there was no time to wind up, and his ten minutes were not likely to be accurate. I rushed back to my cabin and quickly packed my stuff and changed in the toilet. I tried not to disturb the other three passengers. I spent my next fifteen minutes in the passage near the gate, to check that train has really reached Nasik, when it slows or stops. Since the carriage was just third from engine, as train slowed entering the station I could see the Nasik Road sign clearly. I move back to the cabin picking my luggage, I was back at the gate by the time train came to a halt. It was drizzling, and the carriage had stopped few yards outside the covered area of platform. I moved quickly into the covered area to avoid getting wet and spoiling my cloths. I halted at the first coffee kiosk at the platform to have a good cup of coffee, as Punjab Mail slowly moved out of station than speeding in darkness towards Mumbai. I finished my coffee and moved to station exit to negotiate with cab drivers my early morning move to the hotel, off course in the rain.

That was not an end. I had to come back again to the same station a night later to board the return superfast Punjab Mail for my journey back. And that was yet another story in the superfast train.

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