When I was called upon to attend official meetings in the national capital and elsewhere in the country, I reached my destinations courtesy Indian Railways. Train reservations followed meeting notifications.
My first long-distance journey was by the GT Express from Madras to New Delhi. Though I shared the cabin with three men, all strangers, once the train started, there was much bonhomie. There were light moments also, such as when a co-passenger, on sighting a water body asked, “Is this the Ganges?” On reaching New Delhi, I thanked the co-passengers who replied, “We should be the ones to thank you for the pleasant journey.”
I soon switched over to the Secunderabad-AP Express combo on my journeys to New Delhi. The interim hours between the trains’ arrival and departure in Secunderabad were spent with Kamran Latifi, my father’s contemporary in Cambridge, UK.
I learned to cope with the challenges of rail travel. Missed the connecting AP Express? Never mind. Take the Dakshin Express instead. Once, derailment on the track ahead forced the KK Express to return to its starting point, Secunderabad, to take a detour via Malad to New Delhi. It arrived a day late. Food and water were in short supply. Another time, on the verge of leaving home to catch a train in Bengaluru, I realised that I had left my ticket behind in Mysuru. My day was saved by the bank which permitted me to withdraw cash, even after closing hours, enabling me to purchase a new ticket.
When there were no direct trains, I had to get off a train at night and wait on the platform till the train I was to board arrived. Onboarding, sharing the cabin with passengers whose faces I couldn’t see was not a welcome prospect.
Returning from Allahabad, I had to get off at Itarsi at night to board the homeward-bound train hours later. My anxiety was soothed by a pleasant surprise: a porter carried my luggage to the ladies’ waiting room which was spick and span, manned by attentive staff. Feeling secure, I could even snooze!
The train I wish I could have travelled on more often was the Rajdhani Express, a train that I took from New Delhi to Mumbai. We got service with a difference: a well laid out dinner tray placed on a cloth-covered table, fluffy pillows and clean sheets for the night. Morning tea was served to the strains of ‘Jai Ram Sri Ram’ by Lata Mangeshwar.
In due course, I became eligible to fly, thereby ending my official tryst with the Indian Railways.