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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A boss who went out of his way to get me promoted

I had joined HAL Nashik when I was 23-year-old and my whole life was spent in this single organization. But, I never got bored because whenever I felt boredom creeping up on me, I managed to get a change of scenario.
I had joined in the aircraft manufacturing section but, subsequent to a tiff with my boss, I was transferred to the overhaul department.
From manufacturing new aircraft, I went into repairing of old aircraft. And – with this change I landed up in a setup that was ruled by Air Force personnel. The boss was a Sardarji and, he was so impressed with my work that he gave me two promotions within a span of two years!!

Armed with the varied experience that I had gained in the overhaul department, I came to Customer Services department. Here I was rewarded by another promotion. I felt that I deserved another one but my boss, the one with the wig, retired and I felt let down. Anyway, the replacement boss arrived. He was a Squadron Leader and a South Indian. We got along well but, when the time came for promotion, I discovered that my name was not in the list of those called for interview.
Since promotion interviews were held once a year, I was disappointed and disheartened. At that time I was staying alone because my wife and child had gone to Kolkata for summer vacations. Therefore, I took my lunch in the canteen and came home. I wanted to be alone because I knew that if I was on duty, I would have to listen to sympathies of my colleagues.
I, therefore, came home, tuned the radio and lay down on the bed with a pack of cigarettes. Suddenly, the bell rang. I presumed it to be the postman and was surprised when I opened the door and saw my boss. In his hand was a file.
He entered, smiled and opened the file for me to see the contents. It contained a note sheet on which the General Manager had signed – it was an order for me to proceed to HAL Koraput for my promotion interview.
My boss had gone out of his way to originate a note sheet and get it signed by all concerned to ensure that I do not lose the chance of promotion – which I finally got. Unfortunately, this boss got transferred and another Air Force officer took over. (to be continued …)


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