In one of my earlier pieces, I had made a mention about the train journeys I used to undertake during my school days. We had two semesters in anacademic year at RIMC (Rashtriya Indian Military College), Dehradun.At the end of each semester, a break was granted. Going home during these breaks were alwaysexcitingand days prior to the D-day life use to overflow with joy and laughter. And why not ? After all we were all 13to 17-year-old kids.

To travel home one wouldboard the Doon Expressand reach Lucknow the next day. At Lucknow, one had a waiting period of about 12 hours for the Gauhati-bound Brahmaputra Mail ex-Delhi, so we always had ample time at hand to explore Lucknow. Meena Bazaar was one of our favorite haunts and I developed a lasting taste for the ‘Lucknowikulfi’ which we would gobble up voraciouslyduring such outings. I also remember picking up a chikankurtifrom Meena Bazaar for my younger sister; she would remember because chikankari was a rarity in a place like Aalo those days. Am talking about the 70s, mind you. Just in case someone feels inclined, Lucknow is well-known for its chikansaris and kurtis even today.
In the summer of 1976, soon after landing atLucknow railway station, we went looking for a place toeat. Several road-side ‘dhabas’ outside the station were offering meals at very competitive rates. “Eat as much as you want for Rs 2/-” read one offer. There was another@ Rs 1.50 per meal but silent on the refill part. We opted for the former – this, purely based on‘self-appraised’ confidence in our appetite and prowess to devour! So began our lunch in right earnest and the dhabawalahappily kept refilling our plates. Soon after he ran out of rice; but to fulfil part of thedeal, the poor fellow ended up borrowing rice from the adjacent dhaba. Perhaps, he had not bargained for five gluttonous young cadets from the NE as customers when he made this offer! No wonder, during our next trip to Lucknow, moment he saw us approach his dhaba- with the same offer - he recognized us immediately. With an inscrutable countenance, perhaps,tinged with an elementoftrepidation,he pleaded with folded hands, “Yeh ‘offer’ aapkeliyelagoonahinhai, sir!” (This offer is not applicable for you, sir!). When we persisted, he said, “Meradiwalanikaljayega, sirji!” (I will go bankrupt, sir!). In an act of ‘muted chivalry’, we let him be, much to his relief ….Hahaha…...!! Wonder if he came across the likes of us, ever again, in his life.
During my ‘return’ trips from home, I often had to travel on my own because it was almost impossible to coordinate with the other NE students. UsuallyI would come down to Silapathar (Assam) by bus from Aalo; halt the night, and early next morning, board the Rangiya-bound Arunachal Express train ex-MurkongSelek (Pasighat). ‘Nepal Hotel’atSilapathar used to be my favorite ‘stop’. The hotel was nothing to write home about but the staff were friendly and would always make sure I didn’t miss the train. As a routine I would take a cycle-rickshaw to the railway station, buy a ticket against the student’s concession voucher and board the train as and when it arrived. I remember, it used tocost Rs 36/- for my ticket to Dehradun at 50% concession. Affordable, wasn’t it?
Once, I almost missed the train because it arrived early! Fortunately, the hotel staff were alert and woke me up ‘just in time’ for me to hear the whistling of the arriving train. But because I could not get a rickshaw late in the night, I literally ran 2 kms to the station with my baggage. Would you believe, the station master kept the train waiting for me – yes, waiting for me! - because I had bought the ticket in the afternoonitself and while doing so, had ended up having a friendly chat with him, during the course of which hehad expressed his sincere appreciation formy self-confidencein one so young, to travel alone all the way to Dehradun;and moresignificantly,he remembered me when the train arrived! Thank God for the rigors of training in school I had the stamina to run the distance. When I finally reached the station huffing and puffing, sweating like a pig, the station master was visibly relieved andreceived me with much warmth and concern. A very kind person, he even helped me board the train. For the life of me, I can’t remember his name now.The train, apparently,hadarrived on schedule because it was 24 hours late! So much forpunctuality of our trains...…touché!!
Such were the vagaries of journeys by train. Of course, it had its share of fun and pleasure too. More about thetravails of my travels in the coming days.In the meantime,take care, stay home and stay safe. Adios…… till the next!

 

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Kenter Joya Riba

(Managing Editor)
      She is a graduate in Science with post graduation in Sociology from University of Pune. She has been in the media industry for nearly a decade. Before turning to print business, she has been associated with radio and television.
Email: kenterjoyaz@easternsentinel.in / editoreasternsentinel@gmail.com
Phone: 0360-2212313

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