Tuesday, November 16, 2010

To stop train, pull chain.


It has started to get chillier. So it took time to get up even after the alarm went off. Ma was angry (at 25, I was apparently expected to) and somehow she wasn’t getting ready either. Dad woke up much later, didn’t take a bath, took just one pair of clothes (the one he wore) and was ready. Basically, we were running late.

In the car, Ma started to chant and I was just plain moody (after I get up from my sleep, I mostly am) The train was at 7:40 and we reached the station at 7:30am. I and Ma found out that the Shatabdi was coming on platform 2 (the other side of the station) so we jogged, while Dad went to park his car at the lot, so that we could also go back back in our own car the next day when we returned.

7:37am, and I am told coach C5 is in the middle of the platform. I run literally and turn back after every 3 minutes to check on mother. Father was surely missing the train but being a guy, I let him deal with it. The train gave out a whistle and I reached C5. I entered and looked behind me to find no mother. A man hwo was smoking outside told me, ‘sab chale ayenge, train se mat latko.’ Meh. I was disappointed as I knew, atleast one parent would miss the train and one wouldn’t.

Suddenly, from within the coach before our coach (C4), I see my Dad sweeping past passengers, coming through the small connecting area between two coaches, towards me. Ohh, so it was Dad who made it, not Mom. Okay.

I went into the coach and headed to the seats on my ticket, only to see the same man looking back at me. I told the woman next to him that she was sitting on our seats. She said no, those seats belonged to them. I was too blank by then so I said smilingly, ‘Let TT come, he will sort this for us.’ She wasn’t relaxed one bit and wanted to see my ticket. I felt a little angry so I asked to see hers too.

By now, my Dad was breathing on my neck (he is royal types, doesn’t like standing too long, he was going mad for a seat by now)

‘Arre madam (I hate that word) aapki tickets 10th Dec ki hai, not November,’ The lady triumphantly announced.

I couldn’t believe her words, I took my ticket, read it aloud, traced my fingers throught the sheet as if doing that would change the numbers. I now had two pairs of eyes looking at me. Ma had emerged from somewhere and was waiting for my verdict.

I said ‘Yes 10th Dec it says. TT sir!’

The nasty TT was even worse. He kept repeating ‘Chalti gadi mein bina ticket ke hai. Saza toh milegi.’

I couldn’t believe the train was moving, we had reached late and yet both my parents had boarded the train, and instead of being victorious, I was now haggling with the TT, almost being pushed off the train for being ticketless.

I said, ‘Kya kya options hai sirjee?’ (ya right, my arse sirjee)

He tells me with closed eyes ‘Pull chain and get down. Pay fine.

Get down at panipat, pay fine till that station.

Go till Chandigarh. Buy fresh tickets. So the 515 rs ticket will cost you 930rs.’

I checked my wallet, saw 3k in it, pulled all of it out and bought three tickets, with a very pissed father threatening to get down at Panipat. I told him nothing was worth missing our one year old niece’s birthday in Chandigarh, but he was too furious to think clearly.

I bought the tickets and my parents and I were given three differently placed seats (wherever no one had booked basically) and we sat.

Baba had to stay, once I got him a ticket, his Panipat plans failed, he read the paper with a vengeance. On some other corner I could hear Ma sort of angry and hurt, mumbling about being ticketless at the age of 55, insulting etc.

I sat on one faraway seat, sipping the tea which was served to us last (by now, the food had started coming in), thinking nothing.

The train took a jolt, I burnt my mouth.

I was wondering why this happened, why did I book on wrong dates. One explanation came to my mind. My mother's birthday is on the 10th Dec, so I just put the date by instinct. That could be the only logic. And even that is flawed. Because cmon, who is that stupid?

The announcement lady buzzed alive ‘There is a green suitcase that has no takers. The concerned person must contact the TT and take it from the seat its lying on.'

A little far I could hear my mother mumble, ‘First tickets, wasted money and now bomb scare, what a day!’

I didn’t have a single support from anyone. I knew those two were happy inside their hearts that we could make the trip, but they wouldn’t show it. In my head, I gave myself a thumbs up, I had been very cool today, I felt like a real SRK fan, with my own train story to tell.

This was all worth it. Till I find a reason, that is.

5 comments:

  1. hehehe reminds me of my own traveling debacle. I think i shud write it down and will share it. :)

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  2. DONE!! :D
    http://basic-principles.blogspot.com/2010/11/make-my-trip.html

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  3. I have spent the better part of the last five years travelling down the length of the country in trains, flights, buses, cars and tractors (I kid you not); and now, you have inspired me to pen down the madness. :)

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  4. @kanishk,
    boy am glad i made you write, good going! will catch up on it this weekend :)

    @Jil Jil,
    Once again, am glad this disaster paid off in so many ways :)

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  5. You did. hope u enjoy reading it :)

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