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Travel is like a life journey. Every journey takes a part of your life. It has its own joys too. That is train journey in India. First of all the pain of departure. With that it starts. It is like death when you depart from a place.
But the joy is when you are about to arrive and actually arrive. You feel the joy of child birth and seeing a new world. In between there will be innumerable sights and happenings mostly without much to say about but at times very heartening.
Old days we purchased a ticket, a thick paper ticket with a few details of the Start and arrival stations and the ticket fare and distance and a long curvy line in colouur mostly red on which the counter officer put an initial on the blank side with the simple two letters viz., SR, WR or something like that, in which SR meant Southern Railway, WR meant Western Railway and another common print was SCR meaning South Central Railway. This ticket in pocket one waited with bated breath to see the train reaching their station of departure and in came the huge steel giant spitting and spewing smoke and steam, the long arms of the large fly wheels pushing up and down with the chuck chuck sound and the blue dressed coal man with a hand ker chief on his head looking out of his engine window. Sometimes steamy hot water will be coming from one of the tubes or shafts which children were always afraid of.
Once the engine passed the bogeys or compartments came to the platform area where in the travellers looked out and those who were to entrain looked in to see if they found their reserved coach. The there was the hustle and bustle of those alighting and those trying to board either by themselves or with the assistance of either relatives or a coolie who carried and helped them with their luggage. The train pilot or engine driver got down and went to the local vegetarian or non-vegetarian food stall and so did most of the ticket examiners or other staff who were on long route duties.
By the time the people were all in and out, the coalman pushed coal and the engine driver pulled his string giving a 'boh..boh....whistle' The sound and tenor of the engine changed and the long arms of the old 'James Watt' engine started pushing once again first slowly and then it picked up speed. Before starting of course there definitely were one or two bells..! Those were the olden days.
Now the picture changed in the last forty years first to a diesel engine in which the coalmen disappeared and then came the electric engine in which the helpers too disappeared. Now there are only engine drivers. The bell too disappeared which used to ring before arrivel and before departure being replaced by mike announcements in three languages, viz.Hindi, English and the local language of State through which it is passing. The driver or examiners rarely got down at stations these days. The trains arrived and after a short few minutes stop for alighting and entraining for passengers it started off.
We travelled from our Thrissur city to catch Chennai and now it is turn to travel back. A few weeks after the rain and floods went in a jiffy and it is time again to leave our near and dear to catch up with our dear Thrissur which reminds of a compact life!
The Chennai station is always its ever inviting self with the beautiful platforms and the end of the trains coming till the numbered platforms. The rush and din and bustle of the place is always there all the twenty four hours. So many people will be resting, so many will be rushing about and in that station there is no day and night but inside there is only day. Day in and day out trains came and departed.
Once inside every body guaged their co travellers to see if they are good to travel with. If they are one, perhaps, struck up a conversation, if not, quietly took ones food, cleaned up and went to bed. Almost always we travelled in a train to Thrissur by morning like the old London coaches. But times have changed there too, in which now there are trains leaving and reaching at un even and un-earthly times which people take in their stride.
I had travelled up with OV Vijayan in his book called 'Thalamurakal' which kept me company all through my stay in Chennai. The ups and downs of the 'Tharavaadu' mentioned there is more or less the story of many 'tharavaadus' of Kerala in one form or the other. OV was kind enough to jot them down for posterity which one is able to read and ruminate. The Velappan of the story will really give a nudge to any one who had anybody connected with the erstwhile force called 'M.S.P. of Kerala. The inscription on the belt reading "Yudhivikrama" will touch hearts about the impartial 'Police man' from a virgin police force which perhaps, is not there now.
The various characters appearing in the story and their times are all fit to move any lover of literature and reading in Malayalam language. When one travels with the Great Grand Parents, Parents, Son and Son's family time flies and the stay time passed in a jiffy. Towards the end of the stay, the book ends making me take a sigh of back thoughts and angst and I move on to the next book in hand by the famous writer of Kerala 'Madhavikutty' in her book 'Neermaathalam Pootha Kaalam'.
To continue
Travel is like a life journey. Every journey takes a part of your life. It has its own joys too. That is train journey in India. First of all the pain of departure. With that it starts. It is like death when you depart from a place.
But the joy is when you are about to arrive and actually arrive. You feel the joy of child birth and seeing a new world. In between there will be innumerable sights and happenings mostly without much to say about but at times very heartening.
Old days we purchased a ticket, a thick paper ticket with a few details of the Start and arrival stations and the ticket fare and distance and a long curvy line in colouur mostly red on which the counter officer put an initial on the blank side with the simple two letters viz., SR, WR or something like that, in which SR meant Southern Railway, WR meant Western Railway and another common print was SCR meaning South Central Railway. This ticket in pocket one waited with bated breath to see the train reaching their station of departure and in came the huge steel giant spitting and spewing smoke and steam, the long arms of the large fly wheels pushing up and down with the chuck chuck sound and the blue dressed coal man with a hand ker chief on his head looking out of his engine window. Sometimes steamy hot water will be coming from one of the tubes or shafts which children were always afraid of.
Once the engine passed the bogeys or compartments came to the platform area where in the travellers looked out and those who were to entrain looked in to see if they found their reserved coach. The there was the hustle and bustle of those alighting and those trying to board either by themselves or with the assistance of either relatives or a coolie who carried and helped them with their luggage. The train pilot or engine driver got down and went to the local vegetarian or non-vegetarian food stall and so did most of the ticket examiners or other staff who were on long route duties.
By the time the people were all in and out, the coalman pushed coal and the engine driver pulled his string giving a 'boh..boh....whistle' The sound and tenor of the engine changed and the long arms of the old 'James Watt' engine started pushing once again first slowly and then it picked up speed. Before starting of course there definitely were one or two bells..! Those were the olden days.
Now the picture changed in the last forty years first to a diesel engine in which the coalmen disappeared and then came the electric engine in which the helpers too disappeared. Now there are only engine drivers. The bell too disappeared which used to ring before arrivel and before departure being replaced by mike announcements in three languages, viz.Hindi, English and the local language of State through which it is passing. The driver or examiners rarely got down at stations these days. The trains arrived and after a short few minutes stop for alighting and entraining for passengers it started off.
We travelled from our Thrissur city to catch Chennai and now it is turn to travel back. A few weeks after the rain and floods went in a jiffy and it is time again to leave our near and dear to catch up with our dear Thrissur which reminds of a compact life!
The Chennai station is always its ever inviting self with the beautiful platforms and the end of the trains coming till the numbered platforms. The rush and din and bustle of the place is always there all the twenty four hours. So many people will be resting, so many will be rushing about and in that station there is no day and night but inside there is only day. Day in and day out trains came and departed.
Once inside every body guaged their co travellers to see if they are good to travel with. If they are one, perhaps, struck up a conversation, if not, quietly took ones food, cleaned up and went to bed. Almost always we travelled in a train to Thrissur by morning like the old London coaches. But times have changed there too, in which now there are trains leaving and reaching at un even and un-earthly times which people take in their stride.
I had travelled up with OV Vijayan in his book called 'Thalamurakal' which kept me company all through my stay in Chennai. The ups and downs of the 'Tharavaadu' mentioned there is more or less the story of many 'tharavaadus' of Kerala in one form or the other. OV was kind enough to jot them down for posterity which one is able to read and ruminate. The Velappan of the story will really give a nudge to any one who had anybody connected with the erstwhile force called 'M.S.P. of Kerala. The inscription on the belt reading "Yudhivikrama" will touch hearts about the impartial 'Police man' from a virgin police force which perhaps, is not there now.
The various characters appearing in the story and their times are all fit to move any lover of literature and reading in Malayalam language. When one travels with the Great Grand Parents, Parents, Son and Son's family time flies and the stay time passed in a jiffy. Towards the end of the stay, the book ends making me take a sigh of back thoughts and angst and I move on to the next book in hand by the famous writer of Kerala 'Madhavikutty' in her book 'Neermaathalam Pootha Kaalam'.
To continue
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