A cat has nine lives, I have many more – 3

The story I will narrate now is about my experience with death on a train. It happened in 1975 when I was traveling with my family from Nashik to Kolkata during summer. The train was the Mumbai-Howrah Mail via Nagpur and the duration of the journey was 33 hours. It left Nashik Rosd at around 11.30pm and reached Howrah at around 8.30am on the day after next. In those days, there was a limited catering service of the Indian Railways for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Usually, its patrons were single travelers because the families carried their own food and adequate stock of water. Flasks and water bottles were in demand because bottled water had not yet entered the scene.

On that memorable journey, my quest for water left me literally hanging. Our train was approaching Nagpur. The stock of water was exhausted and the train stopped at a station. I saw a water filling point opposite our compartment. I took the flask, got down, ran towards the water tap and filled the flask. By that time, the train had begun to move and I ran but my compartment had passed me. In desperation, I got up on the nearest footboard and clutched the handles. My palms were wet with perspiration and it was difficult to remain in that position for a long time. I was prepared for a worst-case scenario but was relieved when the train gradually stopped. I did not know the reason – should get down or should I not? It was then that I noticed a group of men running in my direction. They were fellow passengers who saw the plight of my wife when I missed the train. They had pulled the chain to stop the train and gave me a new lease of life.


Popular stories on this and related sites –


A cat has nine lives, I have many more – 2

A cat has nine lives, I have many more – 1

Old age home for senior citizens

Health is an important issue for senior citizens above 60

Senior citizens in the world of smart phones and credit cards

Bollywood film industry celebrates Holi, the festival of colors, to welcome spring

Uttar Pradesh celebrates Holi, the festival of colors, to welcome spring

Rajasthan celebrates Holi, the festival of colors, to welcome spring

Prince Harry does not have any plan to visit Britain in March

Home delivery cooked meals – an example of work from home

Trip to Kolkata for Durga Pujas by Mumbai-Howrah mail via Nagpur

I had joined HAL Nashik in April and decided to visit Kolkata during October for the Durga Puja celebrations. Yes, I was getting a bit homesick and felt that a trip to Kolkata would act as a booster and be just what the doctors would have ordered.
The year was 1967 and railway reservations could be had 10 days in advance – the quota from Nashik Road was six, if I remember correctly. I had to be in queue at the railway station in time. I was staying in Deolali and getting a bus early in the morning was difficult because people of Deolali were late risers – hence, I went to the station the previous night and stayed at the station till the reservation counter opened at 8am.
I was fortunate enough to get one of the six berths and, on the scheduled day, I boarded the Mumbai-Howrah Mail via Nagpur at around 11.30pm. The compartment was reserved and meant for 75 passengers only. When I woke up in the morning and, whenever the train stopped at the scheduled stops, the people waiting on the platform would not dare to board the reserved compartments. It was taboo.
The train had a dining car attached to it and the waiters kept coming at regular intervals with their wares - tea, crispy snacks, breakfast (bread-butter-omelet) followed by lunch, more tea, more snacks and finally dinner. Since most of the waiters in this train were Bengalis, they took special care of me and other Bengalis like me who were traveling to Kolkata for the Pujas. I ordered for a plate of chicken curry and chapatis – and, thanks to my waiter, there was the leg of a chicken.
By the time I woke up next morning, the train was arriving in Kharagpur and one look out of the window revealed that I was in Bengal – the people milling around on the platform talking in Bengali, the posters of Bengali movies, the advertisements on the walls in Bengali.
And, then, the local vendors got up with their unique Bengali products like vegetable chops, shingara, sweets, jhal-muri and, of course, green coconuts.
As the train left Kharagpur and proceeded on its journey towards Kolkata, a distance of around two hours, the dining car waiter came over to collect the money towards the meals. After he finished collecting from the passengers, he came over to me and confided that he, like most young Bengalis, was a poet in his spare time. He also said that he stayed in north Kolkata, in Shyambazar and gave me his address. He wanted to meet me and exchange thoughts as man to man and not as a passenger and a waiter.
Well – as the train rolled into Howrah station, my eyes began to search for my brothers who had promised to be at the station to receive me and I began to dream of how I would spend the holidays. (to be continued…)

Another interesting blog - Violence and atrocities

Another interesting blog - Citizen Journalist