The Bombay Diary - Day 1

3:15 AM: Guntukal Junction. One of the biggest and most important railway junctions in South India – a station that is perhaps more important and bigger than the town it serves. I step out into the cold for a cup of coffee – mindful of the mother in those countless hindi movies, who steps out of the train at a wayside station to collect water for her baby, only to find the train chugging away from her. But my luck over the past two days seems to have changed for the good. I have a steaming cup of coffee and go back to sleep.

7:00 AM: Lingiri – another station that serves no place. It seems so far away from civilization, but beautiful. There is just a small station building, with trees lined up on either side of the tracks. The sun is already on its way up and the train is slowly waking up. Vendors keep wandering to and fro at will, selling coffee, tea and “bhains ka doodh” (buffalo’s milk).

7:45 AM: Nalwar. From here the train would take a completely new look – that of a school bus. The platform is full of children with school bags bigger than themselves, the younger ones clutching at the fingers of their brothers and sisters so that they do not get lost. This is no Kumbh Mela. The next station, Wadi, where they are headed is just 15 minutes away. Wadi is perhaps the official breakfast stop for the train. On the long platform, you can spot idli-vada vendors every fifty meters. Not surprisingly, the stop is for around five minutes.

8:30 AM: Shahabad. The train has truly transformed itself into something resembling a BMTC bus, with people crammed into every nook and corner. Somewhere in the neighboring coupe, somebody has switched on a music player, and it was blaring out all those mushy Kumar Sanu songs from the 90s. Just out of Shahabad, the train stops with a huge hiss of air – perhaps the air brake had come off. There was no damage done, but it brought our attention to a detail that we’d missed until then – there was no emergency chain in our coach.

12:00 PM: Solapur Junction. The railways seem to have learnt the mantra of multi-tasking. It’s for the third time today that I see this particular train that sports the name board: “Kacheguda-Falaknuma-Raichur-Wadi-Gulbarga-Bijapur-Solapur.”

4:00 PM: Pune Junction - our original first destination during this trip. The train is almost empty. All the way from Solapur to Pune, it was a quiet and peaceful ride. Huge plains dotted either side of the track, with the corn rustling in the hot wind. We had taken turns to sleep through the afternoon. The plains would now give way to huge gorges as the tracks cut through the Bhore Ghat and descend the Deccan Plateau into the huge city of Mumbai. It would be a fun ride.

7:15 PM: Dadar. The train has emptied. The kids have parted way. They have another four hours to go before they sleep. As we pull out of Dadar, a strange guy in a black shirt puts down a huge black bag and asks us: “Can you please mind this bag for some time?” Without thinking twice, we agree. Once he disappears, the thought strikes our minds:

SS: “What if it really is a bomb? If he is not back in 5 minutes we will inform the guard.”
“But where is the alarm chain?” I reply back. “And anyway, the train is nearly empty. Who would want to bomb it now?”

But the thought still lingers in my mind. I am reminded of that explosive dream that I had – the one about the aircraft. “If we’ve to die today, we will!” I bravely declare. Within a few moments, a loud noise makes us jump.

Somebody had slammed the door of the coach. If this were a Tom and Jerry cartoon, you would have seen those different colored cats numbered 1 to 9, jump out of Tom’s body. Thankfully, the strange man is back. He profusely thanks us and leaves. We had finally reached Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, Mumbai.

The first thought I voice after alighting from the train was: “Man, this place looks no different from Chennai Central!” Thankfully, no Mumbaikar hears me.

And then, I sprain my leg.

Quote of the Day: The discussion between us, was about attending marriages and other family affairs.

"I never attend any functions" I declared...and then after a pause, added: "Only subroutines". SS was speechless.

Pic of the Day: Between Pune and Mumbai, nestled on the banks of the Indrayani river, lies the small village of Kamshet. As we speed along in the train, for a few seconds, the river gives us company. This particular location was made famous in the 1990s by the song, "Mile Sur Mera Tumhara"