Friday, August 7, 2009

Theres something immensely calming when you take a train journey. Reading a whole book lying on the upper beth, you feel a sense of being completely yourself. You have no schedule except to try out the dal vada and the tomato soup which comes your way. 24 hours of nothing to do is absolute luxury squirrelled away between hectic everydays.
I once lived in Assam near a story book like station complete with guard, lantern and eager enthusiasm for the arrival of the twice a day train. Steam engines, white whooshes from the top of the train, clangs from within and outside the locomotive, little children with missing teeth waving the compartments of wooden seats onward to the next destination. Recently, in a fit of nostalgia, I took the "toy train" from Conoor to Mettupalayam. From the I got into the compartment, I felt like a 6 year old. Put my face right out of the window while swathes of the green Nirgiris rushed past, well, not so much rushed as trundled. The stations have quaint names and the canteen is ready with hot bajjis when the train stops, an then waits for everyone to get into their box compartments and then chugs along. You wait to see the train turn a corner, over a bridge, or go through one more of the several tunnels when the little compartment ( which seems like your temporary world) up and the children scream yet again. A must do. Before you know it, they may be phased out and all you'll be left with is a memory.