Railway Joyride

Travelling in trains during the rains is horrible. The local trains are full of mud and the Konkan Railway is full of water. As a rule, I try to avoid trains in Mansoon. In other times, I love the trains. The Roha- Diva train ride, at 5:00 Dawn remains my favorite ride. I recently experienced travelling in the Deccan Queen in the chilly mornings to Pune, and that is another wonderful experience. Also, the luxury of travelling in the Rajdhani Express is a whole different joy. Personally, I prefer the August Kranti, because that gives more train time. The railway bunks are the most pleasurable devices for sleeping, which is why I insisted on having a bunk bed in my room, when we moved to a new house. However, if anybody asks me to single out the best train journey I had, I would say that my favorite train ride was that one journey of the Mandovi Express.

The Mandovi Express

That summer after std. 5th, was my first summer camp. It was a four-day stay in the beautifully picturesque village of Tural, in Konkan. Since the association, Rustic Holidays was based in Mumbai, the train journey started in Mumbai at Dadar. But me staying in Roha, I boarded the train at Panvel, where the train (the camp director stated) halted for a full two minutes. The compartment I sat in had four other boys, three elder to me and one a little younger. As a kid, it isn’t difficult to make friends, and I did so quickly. I only remember the name of one boy from them, his name was Shubhankar. But I have no memory of his surname. We had a lot of fun during the journey, cracking jokes and as if we knew each other for years. We weren’t allowed to leave our compartment (rightly so) except if we had to go to the bathroom, in which case we had to be accompanied by a camp volunteer. The camp volunteers were also nice people, two boys and two girls but they had to look after the whole boxcar full of kids, so the five of us had no other option but to put up with each other. We were given wonderful food on the train, and those mutter cutlets remain the best I have ever had, though I barely remember what they tasted like. The guy who was younger to me, dropped his tiffin while eating. Even though he was soon given another, after an earful, the floor remained dirty and it was a sad sight. Joking about how it was poo on the floor, we shifted to the upper bunks, playing cards and name-place-animal-thing.

Each two compartments were separated by a metal wall. However adjoining the top bunks were just iron nets, you could easily see through and talk through them. Sitting on the other side was a girl, about my own age. While all the girls in her compartment were downstairs, she was sitting on the bunk, requesting if she could play Name-Place-Animal-Thing with us. When we agreed, she jumped like a cat on to the side bunk and came back with pen and paper in a moment. After a while, she made her way into our compartment, without any of the volunteers noticing, swinging on the bunk bars like a little monkey. Soon she was telling us dirty jokes and laughing louder than us, swinging back to her comp. when any of the volunteers came by. She wasn’t pretty or anything, but by the time we reached Sangameshwar, all the boys had taken a liking to her, as if she were one of our own.

Entrance to Mamacha Ghar

After reaching Sangameshwar, everybody was separated as per their given numbers and sent off in multiple number of buses to Tural, our destination. The camp “Mama chya gavala jauya” was based on the traditional theme of going to stay at your maternal uncle’s house in the holidays. All the elders there were refered to as ‘Maama’ ‘Maami’ and ‘Maushi’ while the younger volunteers were ‘Tai’ and ‘Dada’. We would gorge on traditional food and the delicious fruits of Konkan. Everyday there would be a new activity to do and learn, like bird watching, scaling the little hills and learning traditional games. The evening would be full of ground sports like Lagori, Cricket, Veet-Daandoo, as well as modern games like football and baseball. After returning ‘home’ we would have snacks and assemble in the Mandir inside the house, to learn and sing evening prayers. The ‘Aaji’ in the house would mesmerize us by stories from the ancient mythologies. Later there would be a delicious urban dinner in the front yard, by which the gaadya, would have been laid out in the “padvi”. The girls would sleep in the “maadi”.

Afternoon Hang Out, the Padvi and the backend.

The afternoons would be left free for us to enjoy. There were various boardgames, packs and packs of cards as well as loads of books to read. Sometimes, the volunteers would conduct games. On the first afternoon, I was sitting all along in the open Mandir part. Everybody comes to camps in twos or threes or groups. I had come here all alone. All the elder kids were sitting together and while the boys I had befriended on the train journey were among them, it is a scary deal for a little boy to advance a huge group of Big Boys. That morning, we had been visited by a man who enlightened us about Bird Watching. He was there to stay over-night as the next morning he was going to take us on a nature trail. With him was his daughter. And right then, she came and sat next to me.

“You want somebody to play with?”

At that age, girls seem very intimidating, especially girls older to us. I nodded.

“Come, let us play card. I’ll teach you.”

The actual house (visible: The Padvi and the Mandir)

She took me into the Padvi and sat down in front of me, laying out cards from the deck she had. She was half-way into teaching me, when I finally found the guts to tell her that I already knew the game. She had an a beautiful voice and an infectious laugh, and soon I was at ease playing with her. I do not remember her name or her face at all, but she seemed very beautiful to me back then. She must have been, because some games later, the group of elder boys had joined us and then a group of girls their age too. From then onwards, the boys took me under their wings and the girls pampered me like crazy. In the following days I also made friends with a lot of people my own age. It turned out to be the best camp of my life.

The backyard extends into a very green piece of land, full of tress. In this picture are the swings to the Left.

Bhavra

The last night was the campfire and everybody performed some or the other things. The next morning, we boys got our very own traditional Bhavras (tops with strings) and the girls got bangles. We set off in the afternoon. My mom and dad had told me that they would pick me off at Dadar this time and I was happy that I could be with these new friends till the very end of the journey. Those were the days when nobody owned cell-phones and internet or was on Orkut or Facebook. That meant that this journey were the last few hours I could spend with them. This time, I confidently fluttered among compartments and the volunteers let me. Promises were made of coming back to Tural next year. We were singing, laughing, shouting and dancing.

Nitin and Shilpa Karkar- Maama and Maami

However, my journey was cut-short an hour early. At the last moment, my parents decided to pick me at Panvel instead of Dadar. The camp leaders summoned my even half an hour before and told me to keep my bag ready. I was startled as I genuinely thought that they had mixed up the fact that I would Get On at Panvel and Get Down at Dadar. I was disappointed that I would have to say goodbye early. I was also terrified that the Camp people would let me out at Panvel, but my parents would be at Dadar and I would have to sleep on the station benches that night.

Turned out, my parents were indeed there at Panvel. In the final 20 minutes I made a journey inside the boxcar itself, saying goodbye to everybody and having to tell everyone that I was now getting down at Panvel instead. I was angry with my parents for a moment, but then the train started to move, and everyone was at the windows, waving me goodbye. Being the only one getting off at Panvel, I received a special farwell instead of just getting lost in the crowd of the 100 other kids at Dadar. Large heartedly, I decided to forgive my parents.

I said that best train journey I had was the one on Mandovi Express. But whether it was the one going to Sangameshwar, or the one returning home, I will never be able to decide…