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.


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This is about another of my near death experiences, also in Kolkata. It was in the 1970s and involved a bus. I did my schooling in St. Joseph's College, an English medium school. My mother tongue is Bengali and my knowledge on it was limited. In college, I faced problems with the language and a pass in it was compulsory for the I. Sc. Exams. The pass mark was 30 percent and I somehow managed to scrape through with 31 percent. This preyed on my mind and I decided to devote some of my time to write in Bengali. I did it on the sly and sent the stories across to a few magazines. And – I struck pay dirt in 1967. That was when I got an employment in HAL Nashik. I was at Howrah Station to catch the train and went to the bookstall to buy some magazines to read during the journey. Believe it or not, one of the magazines had published my story. I needed a breakthrough and this was it.

During one of my visits to Kolkata in the 1970s, I came to know of a magazine that wanted writers. Its address was on the outskirts of the city and I was not familiar with the area. I talked with the locals and got an idea of the locality. I had to take a bus and had to wait for the bus to come along. It was crowded and when I asked for a ticket, I discovered that it was a wrong bus. It had started to move and I tried to get down from the moving bus. I landed on the road and the bystanders helped me to my feet. This could have had serious consequences but I lived to tell the tale of another experience with death.


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Geetanjali Express leaves Howrah Station minus my wife and me

It happened a couple of years back and my wife was at the receiving end.,br> She comes from a family that had known cases of cardiac problems – her father suffered a severe stroke while traveling in a bus in Kolkata and expired before any help could arrive. Her elder brother also suffered a stroke while at work and survived because of immediate hospitalization. He now wears a pacemaker. Therefore, it was but natural that my wife also be a probable victim due to the hereditary factor.
She did have some problems related to the heart and was taking regular medicines for blood pressure as well as the cardiac problems. There was an instance when she had lost consciousness as we waited in the hospital for meeting the doctor. She had undergone a full checkup and certified as fit.

Anyway, in 2013, we had made a program to spend some time in Kolkata during the Durga Pujas. We also planned to visit Puri and had booked train tickets and hotel reservation in the seaside resort. It was the year when Orissa was hit by Cyclone Phailin followed by floods and disaster beyond imagination.
Our stay in Kolkata during the Durga Pujas was full of fun as was the trip to Orissa.
Finally, it was time to return and, on the appointed day, we arrived at Howrah Station to board the Geetanjali Express. My brother-in-law had come to see us off and, as the train was entering the platform, disaster struck – my wife lost her balance and, literally collapsed. I had to hld on to her and, gradually lowered her on the bench. My brother-in-law immediately summoned his driver and, instead of boarding the train, we got into his car and sped to the hospital.
The train left without my wife and me.
The doctor in the Emergency Ward carried out a few preliminary tests and advised immediate hospitalization because my wife’s pulse rate was very low. My brother-in-law discussed with his family physician who suggested that my wife be put on Holter monitoring for 24-hours. (to be continued …)

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From Bareilly to Kolkata by Doon Express

When I arrived at the Bareilly railway station, the time was around 3.30pm. I went to the ticket counter and requested the man at the counter for a ticket to Kolkata. The man gave me a hard stare and brought down a huge ledger from a rack. It was the reservation for the Doon Express. He asked me my name. Then he struck out a name from the register, added my name at the bottom of the list and handed me a ticket with reservation.

The train fare with reservation charges was something like Rs 68 – I handed him a Rs 100 note and he did not bother to return the change. I also did not ask him to return the balance. I was thankful to have got bot ticket as well as reservation. This was more important because the Doon Express train would arrive at 3.30am and a berth would be welcome to spend the night.
I had to spend 12-hours at the railway station and, I picked up a James Hadley Chase paperback from the book stall. Then I went over to the refreshment room and had a cup of tea with some pakoras. I was the only passenger there and felt a bit awkward. Anyway, after strolling up and down the platform a couple of times, I retreated into the waiting room. And, as the sunlight faded, the cold began to descend. At times, there would be a sudden blast of wind as a train passed through and I would be literally shivering to my bones.
Fortunately, some of the railway porters had lit a fire in the waiting room and it helped to ward off the biting cold. When the train finally arrived, I somehow managed to locate my compartment, get into the upper bunk and try to close my eyes. Try – because the coach was full with students of Doon School who were going home for Christmas vacations. It was a noisy night and, next day, as the train sped towards Kolkata, I saw a few wonders of our country. The radishes of Jaunpur and the brinjals of Beneras – both were huge size of vegetables!!
As the train rolled into Howrah Station, my mind was on my next port of call – the office of Indian Airlines to get my tickets confirmed for my flight to Tejpur. (to be continued …)


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My third conquest was Crime magazine

Writing for two magazines on a regular basis was not an easy affair because I had to switch frequencies from one to the other and ensure that my trend of thoughts did not get disturbed. Moreover, none of the magazines paid any honorarium therefore I was always on the lookout for avenues that would pay – as a friend had once told me – I should get money to cover expenses of paper, ink and postage. But – that was a pipe dream.
However, during one of my subsequent trips to Kolkata, I met another editor – he was editor of Crime. This was yet another magazine on the lines of Mashik Romancho and Mashik Rahasya. The only difference was that those who ran Crime were young people and they were in the business to make money. To them, a writer has to deliver what is wanted.
Incidentally, the magazine consisted of a few stories and a full length novel – usually the translation of some popular English novel. I submitted a couple of stories and they were accepted.
It was after a few months that I realized their real game. They would print the magazine on newsprint and, simultaneously, print a book separately on high quality paper. The book would be the novel that had appeared in the magazine with attractive cover photos depicting scantily clad girls and the writer would get an honorarium.
The books would be offloaded in the Wheeler book stalls at railway stations.
I was present at an incident that left me astounded. I had accompanied the editor to Howrah station and he wanted to get a feedback on the demand for the latest book from the stall owner. However, the stall owner did not give a favorable reply – he said the cover photo should be changed to attract the customers.
The editor was not worried. He hailed a taxi and asked the stall owner to put all the unsold copies of the book in the boot. He promised to send them back with new covers!! (to be continued …)


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Detective Nero Mullick enters the Puja special edition

As requested by the Editor of Mashik Rahasya, I returned back to Deolali and created the character of Nero Mullick and he made his entry into the world of criminal investigation in a prestigious Puja Special edition. He was a retired officer of the Indian Railways and had the traits in him that singled him out from others. He was a strict disciplinarian and was hurt when anything happened that should not have happened.
He had a dedicated assistant in the form of a police inspector who would drop in on him whenever any out-of-the-way crime took place. The crimes were usually of murders.
One such story was about a dead body found in the boot of a taxi at Howrah station. In fact, such an incident actually took place and my pen wove an imaginary story around it and it became a novelette. I realized that penning a novel was not an easy task and one had to be careful to ensure that continuity was maintained and that the characters did not get mixed up.
In order to do this in a systematic way, I would jot down the important points like names of characters, location of incidents, timings etcetera on a separate sheet of paper so that I did not lose track of the important aspects. There would be times when I would need to refer to some documents like a road map or a railway timetable to ensure accuracy of facts.
And, I always kept a note book near my bed – to jot down sudden inspirational items like a newly coined word or the name of a character that would sound most appropriate in the particular situation. (to be continued …)


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I discover some more outlets for my literary skills

I have been suffering from a split personality right from my school days – one part of me had to, always, be engaged in routine and mundane jobs, the other would fantasize. In school it was studies. In college it was studies plus a bit of exploration here and there to learn the intricacies of life. In service it was work to make a living.
The other part of me was one that allowed me to view life from a different perspective and walk into the world of fantasy. I would give complete freedom to my imagination to take wings and come up with what, in my opinion, were gems of literary creations. They would hardly ever be acknowledged by the glitterati, I would not be given any award but, they were loved by my readers. And, that egged me on to create new age series of crime and punishment.
Starting with Mashik Romancho, I discovered a new outlet in Mashik Rahasya.
I never knew of its existence but, picked up a copy at the Wheeler Bookstall in Howrah Station during one of my journeys. The Wheeler Bookstalls were there in practically all major railway stations and they displayed a whole range of magazines in Bengali plus many in Hindi and, of course, English paperbacks. In those days, the conversion rate was five rupees to one dollar and paperbacks had a fairly good market.
Anyway, Mashik Goenda was my second conquest.
With several stories under the belt, thanks to Mashik Romancho, I was no longer a fresher in the field. Hence, there was no difficulty in getting a toehold in Mashik Rahasya. Rahasya means mystery – therefore, I had to pen stories that would meet their requirements. And, in order to get a new identity, I created a few characters that my readers would not forget in a hurry. (to be continued …)


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My forays into the world of Bengali writing

I have already mentioned that my first Bengali story was published in the monthly magazine Mashik Romancho. Subsequently, they published some more of my stories and, when next I visited Kolkata I decided to drop in on them and have a face-to-face direct interaction with the editor.
Accordingly, I located the address in north Kolkata – and was surprised to discover that it was a family affair. The magazine had been started by a person who had links with the All India Radio and, therefore, some big names of the world of radio used to write for the magazine. However, the present editor was his son and he had his offices on the ground floor of their ancestral building in a lane of north Kolkata. It was near the Hedua Park.
In those days it was the age of letter press printing and there would be compositors who would compose the matter for every page based on the handwritten manuscripts. Obviously, neat handwriting was important as well as the ability of the compositor to decipher the words.
After the pages were composed, the matter would be printed one off and submitted to the proof reader – he would check the accuracy and correct the matter where needed before the matter was sent for final printing. This was done in a 16-page format – that means eight pages on each side. Later the formats would be arranged, printed and bound into magazine form. The last step was the distribution to book stalls and other outlets, including the railway stations like Howrah station.
Getting to know the intricacies of printing a magazine was a great help to me as I learnt many years later when I printed magazines from Nashik – yes, Bengali magazines printed from Nashik, thanks to language software, computers and photo offset process.
Anyway, the editor of Mashik Romancho encouraged me to write on topics like spying – it was the age of James Bond and other characters like him and I also went ahead a created a Bengali version of James Bond. (to be continued …)


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I finally join the MiG factory in HAL Nashik

I finally join the MiG factory in HAL Nashik

The moment I set foot in Howrah station on my return to Kolkata after the interview in Nashik, I sensed something amiss. The picture on every front page of newspapers showed a West Indian batsman who was running on Red Road with his cricket bat raised in the air. It seems the previous day there was some problem in the Eden Gardens while an India West Indies test match was in progress.
In 1966, there was no cellphone and landline connections were few and far between – therefore, I did not have a chance to announce my homecoming in advance – I just had to knock on the door and say I have come.
I had very little luggage and I took a bus and while sitting in the bus, I had time to recall my interview and felt in my heart of hearts that I may not make the grade – but, I must put up a brave face in front of my parents and among my friends, especially those who were my colleagues in Moitra & Company.
I decided to keep a straight face and smile – it can be interpreted in many ways.
Anyway, within a fortnight I was a much relieved man because the offer of appointment had come by post and I now had to wait for the firm appointment letter. I was literally on cloud nine and celebrated the occasion with my friends and colleagues.
I also informed my Principal and he congratulated me.
But, the final letter was getting delayed. January came and went and February was also half way over and the final letter had still not arrived. I therefore wrote a letter to the Personnel Manager and enclosed a self-addressed and stamped envelope for a reply. I wanted to know my fate!!
Well – the reply came. It was brief and to the point. I had been selected for the next financial year and my firm appointment letter would come only after March. It actually came in the middle of April and I boarded the Howrah-Mumbai Mail via Nagpur to enter a new phase of my life. The train fare from Howrah to Nashik, a distance of nearly 1800-Km, was Rs 35 and reservation charges was just 25 paise. (to be continued …)

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