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Foreword
This wonderful piece of writing is the end product of imagination of a young boy in his teens and his fascination for Trains and Indian Railways. He might have written it just for his love of traveling in trains and then of course he involved his own created fictional detective “George Wilson” and his assistant “Raghuvir”
The story was written in August 1993 and was lost in the attic of his house. After much persuasion and difficulty it was brought out and here we have it.
The Names of Cities, Trains, their timings and some other facts mentioned in this story belong to as they were in the year 1993.
-Ravindra Khandrika
16 September 2014
Snails on Wheels
1. Introduction
“Raghu, I’ve got a brilliant idea today. Guess it!” Wilson was in his usual mood during the supper.
“Well, maybe you are planning to buy a video camera so that you can record all your cases.” That answer from Raghuvir was just meant to reply to a question and he did not guess it any way. It was not in proportion to the least with Wilson’s experiment.
“I’ve planned an adventure. You are accompanying me. “
“I cannot trek along jungles or climb up hills. Neither can Bhabhi”.
“Oh! She cannot do this adventure. But you must. By the way it isn’t anything like that.”
“Oh! Come on, Wilson out with your idea please”, interfered his wife.
“Well, I’ve planned to go around India in a passenger train.” Wilson said in his usual cool tone.
“That makes no adventure. Travel in a goods train and it can be counted”, replied his wife. Raghuvir nodded in support.
“A passenger train as per my dictionary is the one that stops in almost all stations en route and not-an-express train.”
“Are you kidding?” Raghuvir cried.
“About the definition?” asked Wilson.
“No. About your adventure!”
“O…….Our adventure. I’m very serious. I’ve contacted the Railway authorities and they gave me an itinerary and to this moment, half of the journey is planned.”
All this time, Raghuvir was busy coming into his senses after the shock.
“By the way, the journey begins from Kanyakumari in Tamilnadu and even ends there.” Wilson completed his meal by that time.
“So you are making a real loop?” asked Raghuvir.
“We…….We are making a complete loop along the boundaries of India except into the NEFA.” Wilson clarified.
“Will it take about 10 days?” Raghuvir asked mechanically. His face was as expressionless as that of a cow.
Wilson gave a little smile.
“The first half of may take about 13 or 14 days.”
“FIRST HALF?!?” Raghuvir almost fainted. “So we’ll have to travel another half of the journey after that?”
“Obviously. You never do half the journey do you?” Wilson walked away into his bedroom after explaining Raghuvir how helpful it would be to know the informal class of the people. To which Raghuvir asked what he’s going to do with the knowledge. As usual, Wilson never cared to answer the question.
It may remind you of the novel “Around the World in 80 Days”. But there is a basic difference between the two.
The friends of Phileas Fogg thought the journey to be practically impossible since it is too short time to travel round the globe. Fast was adventure in those days.
Now, we live in rocket speed age. But however the passenger trains seem to be the living fossils of the Bullock-Cart speed age.
Any way going fast is no adventure. Around the world, it hardly takes 48 hours. The adventure lies in how slow you can travel by the vehicle invented to go fast! So, the idea of travelling the perimeter of India (along the boundaries) by slowest mode of travel in Railways – The passenger train is not a bad idea. Give it a try if you’d like to experience the thrill of it, or the frustration of it. The itineraries are planned as per the passenger trains available during May 1993.
2. The Journey Starts
By 1:00 pm in the afternoon, we were on the bench of the Kanyakumari terminal station waiting for our first passenger train (I suppose you know, I mean – a slow train) of our journey – better call that adventure. Since I’ve made some arrangements with the Indian Railways and got specially prepared passes for travel in the slowest available means of rail travel in India, I need not run out in every station and stand in queues for a ticket. In Delhi, I sat with the officials and explained about my programme. After they made sure that I wasn’t joking or kidding, they sat along with me and we made an itinerary thorough which my friend & I would travel along the perimeter of India. However, we could not go into the Assam loop (NEFA side). After some tedious workout with the Railway guides, we came out with our plan.
Total distance covered: 8961 Km. Our tour’s got an interval too.
Since the journey is by slowest means of transport by rail, the price was very - very reasonable. I was Rs475 per head! But – between you & me, the railway guide’s price table made it up to just Rs370. I asked the same that why there’s been such difference. Instead, they should be able to give me some concession. I learnt from them that the ticket from Kalka to Shimla would charge more than the regular price index of the railways. Ok. Let it go. Even if they’d cheated me, 475 rupees for perimeter of India was a great bargain – or it seemed like that, that day.
We change 48 trains from Kanyakumari to Kanyakumari, and travel for 32 days.
The first thing I did in Kanyakumari station was to talk to the SS and told him about my trip and requested him to wire the message to important stations in SR since a TTE un aware of my special pass would suppose it to be a fake and might fix me.
All formalities over. At about 1:15 or so, the train shunted to the platform. There was no rush and we needn’t pull out our hand-kerchiefs for current reservations, as has been the formality in Indian Railway’s unofficial system.
We got a window seat for each other and Raghuvir was happy to sit by the window though he was not that interested in my tour and unhappy about the passenger train.
The Train moved out sharply at 13:35 – on time as per the Railway timetable and though there was no station en route, it travelled as slowly as it could and reached Nagercoil about 10 minutes late at 14:20.
Even though it started on time at Nagercoil but God knew when that happened – the train reached Tirunelveli about 1 ½ hours late.
After another train journey from there to the station where I discovered that it seemed to be the most complicated name to spell in my whole itinerary – VANCHIMANIYACHCHI. We were tired very much. We felt as if we ran along the tracks from Kanyakumari to …..to this station. I wondered why we were tired that much even if we’d travelled by a train. So, we ran to a double bed retiring room (Railways) in that very station where we had to stay for that night as per our itinerary and though it was not up to our expectations (which were low enough to be fulfilled), there were two beds, the most important requirement, and we slept. (We reached Vanchimaniyachchi at 23:45 just 10 minutes behind schedule) and slept unaware of what was to happen next, and with satisfaction that DAY-1 was friendly.
3. Not a QUITTER
I was just getting back into senses after a good night’s sleep when suddenly I realised that I was in a railway retiring room and not in my own house and I was to catch my train at 7:30. I looked into my watch – 7:15. I should not‘ve slept that soundly. I kicked Raghuvir and he woke up with a scream, we changed our dresses without having a bath and rushed to the platform. It was already 7:30 and I saw no train on the platform but a huge crowd as like in a mela. I enquired someone about the train. He answered in Tamil (most probably it was the language he spoke)
“Raghu, had I asked him in Tamil?” I doubted myself if I’d began speaking in Tamil.
He nodded to say no.
“But he answered in Tamil is it?”
“It happens”
So we ventured to ask someone else. Similar reply but this fellow used different syllables. Oh! My! He spoke in English! He spoke out so fast that I thought for a moment that he was speaking in Tamil.
Anyway no problem. The train had to come from Tuticorin and running late by 15 minutes. (It had to arrive at 7:15).
A steam engine puffing vigorously pulled the train into platform and everybody ran into it as if they hadn’t seen a train for years. Raghuvir tried desperately to reserve a seat through the window but it was not possible. So we had to stand at the door near the toilets. The bogie was too old. It looked like that the toilets were not flushed from at least two or three journeys. It was horrible. We wanted to go deep into the bogie but it was not possible. We even tried to get out but that too went in vain as people were hanging at the door on both sides, were a little notice board said that “FOOTBOARD TRAVELLING IS PROHIBITED”. Since it’s harmful, nobody cared to look at it.
The train moved out of the station and we realised by the smell that we were not the only people who haven’t had a bath. But the influence of the toilets was more frustrating. The train was moving very slowly at about 25Kmph. We were sandwiched from both sides and we could not escape the scent of toilets.
It seemed that nobody was getting out but at every halt, somebody was getting in. The population explosion was easily felt. At Some station, the train stopped nearly for 15 minutes for crossings. We didn’t expect that so, we could not get out of that bogie. Finally, at 11:30, the train reached Virudhunagar (70 minutes late). At this stage, there was a little space to look around if not to sit. We jumped out of the train and then, we remembered that we forgot to eat our breakfast. So, in no mood to eat at that time, we drank delicious coffee at a vendor’s shop.
In the next bogie, we got some place to sit even if the toilets position was no better than the previous one. For the first time in the day, we sat on a bench. Though it seemed that it would be better if we stand up, we washed out that idea.
We reached Madurai after a slow and frustrating journey, at about 14:30 or so in the afternoon (1 ½ hrs late). That’s the second time we reached late by 1 ½ hours.
We had our South Indian special thali meals outside the station, since the cafeteria of the station was closed. It was not a very big hotel but the treatment was warm. As and when those guys learned that we don’t know Tamil, they might’ve thought to charge more and you don’t believe, it was Rs15 per plate and it wasn’t worth half of that. Along with eating we had to do the job of keeping away the flies.
We could not eat much and we came out and wandered around the city as our train was at 18:00hrs. The city was not bad, and the weather good. While we were walking, somebody picked Raghuvir’s wallet. Though it did contain only about a hundred rupees, it was a prestige question to let him go. So, we chased him and caught him. Suddenly he pulled out his knife and it left my hand red with blood. But Raghuvir did the fight and the police made the job easier. The police insisted that we report the incident and even the hospital refused to treat my hand unless there was a police interference. The wound was paining and at one stage, I almost fell down due to loss of blood. I pulled out my ID card and they treated me freely.
Another farce was at 17:00 in the evening when the doctors refused to discharge me as I was too weak to walk.
“But I have to catch the 6 ‘O’ Clock train.” I said.
“You can go tomorrow morning, sir.” They insisted.
However, we could come out at 17:45 and within 15 minutes, we had to reach the station about 8 km away. So, we went by an auto and told him about our train. That fellow was enthusiastic and drove as fast as he could. We were at the station sharply at 6 O’ clock and the announcement was being made that the train would be leaving from platform 4. I was not in a position to go there from the first one, so we chose to cross the rails. The train was already moving when we caught it. I almost fainted but lucky enough to control myself. There was no seat but looking at my wound somebody offered a seat. Poor Raghuvir had to stand all the two hours.
“It isn’t late yet. Let’s catch a plane or TN Express in Madras and go back to Delhi.” Raghuvir suggested. We argued about it while the train stopped and started at a couple of stations before reaching Manamadurai at 20:00hrs, right on time. I took rest on a bench while Raghuvir went to look for a double bed room. He came back along with the station master and two RPF jawans.
“What’s the matter, Raghu?” I enquired.
“This man doesn’t believe in our tickets.” Raghuvir was very much frustrated. At no time this fellow liked the idea and as the situation was serious, he could not tolerate that.
“Show me your ticket or walk with me into the cell.” Said the station master and he showed no respect or curtesy. I got angry. What does this fellow think of himself?
“Show me your identity.” I asked.
He pulled out a paper and kept before me.
“I think that it is a fake one.” I answered back.
“Arrest this fellow. We will look into it afterwards.” He ordered.
“Stop there” I shouted and the jawans obeyed.
By that time, it had been a show and people gathered around us.
I pulled out my ID card and on looking at it, the station master’s facial expression turned. That fellow thought he could make some money out of my valet but I was….. am no fool.
I filed a complained against him for not being courteous to passengers and illegal use of power. I posted one copy of the letter to Madras headquarters and left one with him. He prayed to withdraw but as I was already feeling bad with an injury, I was in no mood of forgiving this fellow and shrug off the insult.
“Listen to me at least now. C’mon. Let’s go back to Delhi. It doesn’t look like an adventure. It is foolish.” Raghuvir advised once again.
“I’m not a quitter. Face problems and enjoy success from it. I lectured.
He kept mum, most probably fearing of a bigger lecture from me if he interfered once again.
Our train to Madras from Manamadurai was at 01:00hrs in midnight. Unable to sleep freely and feeling drowsy, we spent the time.
4. Travelling and travelling slowly.
Our journey to Madras was far better than the previous day. The train came on time and though we could not sleep, we found place to sit near the windows. This was the longest journey (487km) in a single train. I took 18 hrs. The train was fast and a great relief except in the morning. The train wasn’t that packed and after an eighteen and half hour journey, we reached Egmore (Madras) station at 19:40. By that time, I got fever because of the wound on my left hand and suspected a septic. We took an auto and on the way bought some medicines for myself and an alarm clock.
I realised that the journey was very frustrating. The trains were too slow, never maintained well and not given preference over express trains (of course!). We checked in to a grand hotel and had our dinner and took rest for a while. Then, when we called for an auto at about 10 pm, that fellow charged 1 ½ on the meter. First I thought it was punishment for not knowing Tamil, but alter I learned that they charge it from anybody during nights.
Our train was at 23:55hrs and it was shunted into the terminus at about 23:15. There was a goods wagon, another parcel car followed by some four passenger bogies. What more!
From here, we thought our journey should be less frustrating since we will be going on Broad gauge for the next few days. The train wasn’t half full when it pulled out of the station at about 00:20. I fell asleep and awoke at about 05:15 or so when the train reached Gudur. Raghuvir was still sleeping. Now, the train began to see people.
The Southern Railway was over.
We were to see the Charm of South Central and all of it in Andhra Pradesh.
Even I was not feeling that bad now and as was usual for the last three days, that after a few hours journey I got a headache most probably because of the toilets or super saturated population with cigarette or beedi smoke and diesel or steam, and unbelievably slow speeds of the trains, it wasn’t like that this time. I don’t know why.
We had our coffee and brushed our teeth and the train pulled out from Gudur at 06:00 (20 minutes late). But in the next station it had to wait for crossings – two express trains and according to a fellow sitting before me, the first one was Kerala express (to New Delhi) and the next one was JammuTawi. (Only he should know from where it was coming). In the next major station Nellore, we had our breakfast and the train reached Ongole at about 10:30. I spelt that Ongol’e but my fellow passenger laughed at that for some time and finally preached me that e was silent. Yes he was correct. I checked out with the Hindi name on the station board. While coming out, we showed our passes to the ticket collector. He looked at it, then at us and let us go. Good God! We thought. He did not create a fuss.
We went to the enquiries and enquired about the passenger to Vijayawada. That fellow did not care about us and was busy talking with his colleague. So I raised my voice.
This time he was prompt. He told me that the train will leave at 12:20 and advised me to take my ticket from the counter nearby. I wanted to tell him that I’ve got my pass but could not dare to.
We did not go out into the town and spent time wandering in and around the station. However, by 12’o clock we finished our meals and got into our train. It looked like it was a very train that brought us from Madras. The journey was ok except that it stopped in some big stations for a long time.
One of our first surprises was that in Vijayawada station, the train bound to Vizag, as they called it, short for Visakhapatnam had been cleaned up and when we got back into senses, the train almost reached Vizag – right on time with its powerful diesel engine.
By this time, we practically got bored of travelling slow.
It was 5th day and we didn’t cross even the peninsula. Raghuvir was very uneasy. We went into the city and bought few cassettes for our ‘Walkman’ which was the least hope of entertainment in drastically slow trains. Even books won’t do. I completed the three novels I brought from my home and so, sold them second hand to a retail book keeper.
Our train was at 18:30 in the evening. So we checked into a hotel far away from the railway land and prayed for solicity. But we were luckless. By 12 noon somebody rushed into my room, banged us left and right and began to search our bags for money or something. We understood the situation then and got into action. They were four in number and very much surprised by our retaliation. After a little melodrama, we managed to throw one out of the window, one locked up in the toilet and one driven out of the room, the last tied up. Meanwhile, the police came in, just as in movies – but nobody took a shot in the air. Here, the police did not make any nuisance and asked if I would like to file a case. After I said no, since I know the cumbersome process involved, they went away along with the three of the four burglars.
It did not end there. While we were returning to the railway station through a relatively quiet lane, two of them stood on the road hindering our autorikshaw. Raghuvir jumped out and kicked them so suddenly that I too did not expect that fellow to act so fast. He banged their heads and kicked them in their stomach with his Bata shoes, they rolled down with pain. I wondered how did they came out of the police station.
Any way we forgot that and until Mughalsarai, our destination on the eighth day, the journey went smoothly (and slowly) through the “Rasgulla” lands of Orissa & Bengal. In between we did not have enough time to look through the city as our trains were ready, within two to three hours gap. At Mughalsarai, where the train reached about one hour late, at 2155hrs. We got some difficulty in understanding the style of language of the pan eating Bhojpuri guy who was very frustrated when we asked him to repeat for the fifth time where we could find an A.C Lodging hotel. Finally he spit out the pan just beside us, and first abused us as deaf for not able to get to his words, and then came up with some audible language with his hands showing the directions, more understandable.
5. A Holy Dip
Our train was moving along the fertile lands of UP and suddenly I found a snail moving along the parallel track in the direction of our train and in no time, it overtook our passenger train. Our driver got angry and wired to the authorities to send a train on the parallel track. The Rajdhani express crossed and I looked at the dead snail. Poor creature. Though I cursed the driver of the Rajdhani express, later I felt that it wasn’t his fault. He was going so fast he might have ignored the tiny animal. Even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t stop for a snail to get out of his way. He’s got all the freedom in the world to do it and nobody would hang him for that. Why was Raghuvir shouting out my name in between? Even I was being shaken violently. Suddenly I awoke. Good lord! I was dreaming all the time. It was already 07:30. Though you may feel that dream to be a foolish writing, on taking a second look, I thought about the snail. Could she have expected that her life would end so abruptly under a man-made high speed machine? I wanted to dream about that more but I couldn’t.
We gave a look around the city and though clean at some places, it looked no better than a large village. We go to the station back at 16:00 hrs and made enquiries about the train. The station was very crowded and the situation was such that you couldn’t hear the announcements about the arrival and departures of the trains. Raghuvir managed to throw his hand kerchief on a seat and we got our seats near the windows. As and when the train moved out of the station, almost everybody began to light their ‘Beedies’ The fellow sitting beside me was a sadhu. I did not believe in these guys. He said a few words of praise and requested the co-passengers to donate him some money for his expenses. I gave him 5 rupees through everybody treated him like a beggar by just giving him 10 paise or 25 paise coins. I saw his face turn very embarrassed at their act & I just wanted to boost his morale.
So, that made us friends and though he talked something of the holiness in taking a bath in Triveni Sangamam – the place where three holy rivers meet, I did not pay much attention. He asked me if I was going to Allahabad on pilgrimage.
“No”
“Have you taken a bath any time there?”
“No”
“Then why are you heading for Allahabad?”
“I’ve to change the train to Kanpur.”
“There are trains which go directly to Kanpur, aren’t there any?”
At that point I decided to tell the truth to this fellow and though I said I did not believe these guys, I couldn’t either tell this one a lie or shrug him off without an answer.
So I told him my aim and explained him how it would help me to get in touch with people of India and how thrilling and adventurous it would be.
He gave a little smile and acknowledged my poor construction of sentences in mixed Hindi, Urdu and English. That guy was speaking perfect Hindi and was very careful to avoid any Urdu or Bhojpuri word.
He was very upset when he learned that my name was George Wilson. But I assured him that I belong to no religion except being an Indian. That boosted his confidence in me and taught me that India name came from the word “Sindhu” – the river or ‘Hindu’ and so, anyone who ever lived in this land is a Hindu and it is not a religion but a culture or a way of living.
After some time, that fellow got drowsy and slept. But before he slept, one thing he said moved me.
“You are spending this lot of money for your enjoyment- mental it might me. But a quarter of it would have taken a helpless fellow on his most important mission – a job in the next town or about a month’s dinner for his whole family or to pay the doctor and medicines to cure his beloved. And many would be trying in vain to get that money. And what comfort do you see in spending that money lavishly?”
The immediate answer I got was this, “I tried hard to get this money. I am a detective and I even received unkind treatment for being harsh to the murderers. Don’t I deserve to spend that the way I like?”
“So the way you like is to spend that lavishly on big bannered hotels and unnecessary trip? What good it has done to you? Or any other person who is desperately waiting for his chance to have the luck? Had you given a little of the total expenses that you would throw away like this to a fellow deserving a help, it might not do any good for you but it would do miracles for that fellow. Give a second thought over your adventure to nowhere, just hanging over the trains and staying in luxury hotels.”
I didn’t give a second thought to it and that’s the reason why I hadn’t been as great as Vivekananda or Gandhi. Even if I had, I wouldn’t stop my adventure. Even if we are doing a foolish thing – don’t let that idea die out in the middle of the execution. That’s what I believe.
“Just go on until you reach your destination. If it does no good to any one, it does no bad either.” I told Raghuvir who used the Sadhu’s preaching as a weapon to stop me from my destination.
Meanwhile, the train pulled to a stop as usual in one of the stations. But there was only one difference. It didn’t move out. I enquired the station master and he told me that a goods train derailed and this train might leave after 24 hours when the track would be restored.
“Sorry, no bus facility for tonight. We’ll provide it tomorrow early morning as it is not possible in the night you see.” Explained the station master and offered me a blanket and mattress to sleep on. There wasn’t a bus facility after 8:30 and I couldn’t catch a lorry since it wasn’t on the highway and except bullock carts returning back to the village, there seemed to be no way out to reach Allahabad, about 46 km away. I‘ve got to catch the train to Kanpur at 6:10 early morning and it was 9:00 in the night. The train ought to reach this station at 8’o clock. I thought for a few minutes and got an idea of which Raghuvir was horrified more than when he heard of our journey.
6. Off to Allahabad.
So, as a part of my idea, we reached the station master and did the talking.
“But I can’t allow that. It is against the rules and even we don’t have any trollies right now in the station. We’ve to get that from Allahabad itself. So, I’m sorry.” He explained.
I think it is understood that I requested that fellow a trolley which can be pushed (man-handling) on the rails. So, only one alternative was left for us. Walking along the tracks or say –trekking.
When someone becomes desperate, he will launch a revolution. Same was the case with Raghuvir. He became so disgusted that at one point, he even asked me to continue my journey alone and he would go home.
Not to say, the journey itself was like that. There were wooden benches, rarely cleaned floor and toilets, unattended fans and all that. I don’t think anybody can travel along that type for more than 8 hours. If he did, he’s either of my type or helpless to afford more money for some comfortable travel.
Somehow, I managed to oblige Raghu to trek along the track and as we were packing-up, I saw some fellows observing us.
Though it was nothing to worry about, I thought it would be better if I carry my gun in my pocket instead of my bag. So, the idea was implemented without anybody’s notice.
So, off were we, as I calculated if we walk at a brisk speed, we would cover the 46 Km in about 5 hours. It was about 10 in the night and I expected to reach Allahabad by 3:30 in the early morning.
Just after 3 km of trek, at 10:25 or so, we were stopped by some bandits. It should not be taken as a surprise since even at 10:30 in the day, public places like banks are being looted and people murdered on highways.
There were three of them and we were exchanging looks, when I heard slight movement of steps from behind. I knew what to do. I pulled out my revolver and turned around and shot him down.
I took that as a risk. I suspected if those fellows had got guns, so I threw myself down immediately after the action. But it wasn’t so, they only had knives and Raghuvir showed them his own revolver and saw that they never moved from their places.
They might not have expected that from us, just normal travellers but what I thought was how could he expect anybody to travel in the night – that too walk along the tracks, unarmed?
Suddenly two of them started the action. One jumped on Raghuvir before he could click the trigger and another jumped over me like a tiger. I did not expect that and since I was lying down, I could not position my revolver. I just rolled aside to give him way straight on to the ballast, at that time, we were on the right-of-way itself. That fellow was too enthusiastic- he rolled over to me with his knife but by that time, I stood up. The third fellow kicked me as and when I got up as if he was waiting for an opportunity to topple me down with that. I rolled down into the fields and my bag remained on the track. How greedy! That fellow was already trying to open that before he could use his knife to do the job. I shot at his hand and with that shot, everybody cooled down. The fellow who had got the bullet looked at me and it seemed as if he was surprised to see the revolver remain in my hand even after the forceful shot he gave me.
They took to their heels and Raghuvir ordered them to stop by firing in the air. He searched their pockets at gunpoint and then I realised his intention.
These were the fellows I’d seen in that village. If they’d come here earlier than us, they had faster means of travel than mere legs. So, I too joined him by aiming at the three so that Raghuvir could concentrate more on their pockets. And out he came victorious! Two of them had cycle keys and on taking that, he kicked one of the fellows so hard that tears rolled out of his eyes. Then, Raghuvir pushed him into the fields. I did the same to the second fellow and only one was remaining. The injured guy. I searched his pockets and came out with his wallet and noted down his address (actually, I tore out that piece and kept in my pocket and at gunpoint, asked him where the cycles were. He pointed, and after confirmation left him. He was so bleeding that he almost fainted as we left him. The other two thought that we killed this fellow and ran away.
So, happy at having got some luxurious means of travel (not exaggerated actually – you will know the luxury of a bicycle if you’d walked 3 km). So, we kept going on road and when the road began to go away from the tracks, we shifted our road to the right-of way. We crossed the stations where people were sleeping mostly after waiting long for the train to come. We even crossed the derailed train where no one attended except a constable. At that place, we were travelling on road. The road was terrible with regular irregularities and three planar. It was very rough and at places, it seemed better to walk than ride those bicycles – which myself was riding after a long gap of about 20 years.
Within no time we reached a main road and travelling along at 03:00, we reached Allahabad by that very main road and by 3:30, we were in the station. So tired, we walked to the enquiries and asked him to confirm the train. He gave a positive reply in a drowsy mood. So, up to 5:30, we took rest and again went to the station. There, that fellow gave me the reply I did not want to hear. The passenger was cancelled. I learnt that a passenger had to come from Mughalsarai and that very train had to change its name as LKA Passenger, our scheduled train.
I’ve got no passenger train to Kanpur except that one. But there’s a superfast Chauri Chaura express scheduled at 8:15 from Allahabad and it is running late by 5 hours as it had to come from Gorakhpur. I was assured that many trains are being diverted via Varanasi, but by no way, I found I could get my connection train at Kanpur to leave at 16:50. And if I don’t get that, all my itinerary would be shattered and I didn’t want to jumble up things and expected to go in a systematic way as planned earlier. But there was no possibility of continuing my journey with the same itinerary. I began to think.
7. The Interval
Just, I cannot afford to go by another means than train as already I skipped 46 km of train journey. I got an idea, I could just wait here for the day and continue the same next day. My itinerary would be unchanged and I would cut short my 52 hrs break in Shimla to 28 hours so that no delay is continued.
I spoke to Raghuvir who was very happy to listen that we won’t be travelling that day. We were so tired that we checked in to a 3 start hotel and fell flat.
By evening, we recovered and visited the Triveni Sangamam, where three rivers meet. Raghuvir asked where the third river, Saraswati was. Only Ganga & Yamuna joined there. I just told him that the third river was a myth. In fact I’ve never been to Allahabad before, so I don’t know much about it. Once my wife visited and gave me a long lecture about the beauty but I never cared to listen. Alas! If at all this fellow could see the Saraswati River, he would laugh at my geographical knowledge.
I happened to meet a palaeographer who was also a charlatan and he told me that there actually existed a river Saraswati but it flows underground.
Underground? What did he mean? But Raghuvir soon took a dup and agreed that he felt some water force from a third direction other than the visible Ganga & Yamuna. The next morning, we reached the station as early as 5:15 and got into the train as soon as it was shunted to the platform.
It was all mechanical up to Shimla except the journey from Kalka to Shimla. That part was spectacular and terrific. At 9:15 in the night we walked into the station master’s office to request him to allot a double bedroom for us at Kalka.
“You were expected yesterday.” Said the Station master.
I was very happy that somebody was observing my timetable. I explained him the reason for being 24 hours late.
“I received a call from Oberoi Clarkes hotel yesterday night. They wanted to confirm the rooms booked for you by the ITDC at your own cost. I suspected that you are probably running late by a day as you haven’t checked last night into my doubles (railway slang to say our station’s double room – retiring). So I postponed your reservation for tomorrow early morning.” And before I could say thanks, he gave some more good news.
“By the way, on your ticket sir, you can travel by our rail motor car rather than the passenger train and so, your wish to travel through a passenger train remains intact. And even then it is just an interval at Kalka, isn’t it?”
His words made sense. On our journey we were accompanied by a family which had to enthusiastic children and just watching them along with the magnificent Himalayas was our entertainment along the route.
According to one of those children, there were as many as 103 tunnels along our route and as per the other kid, there were 18 stations enroute.
Shimla was at 2075 meters above mean sea level and the setting was breath-taking.
In the background the snow-caped Himalayas and below them, lush green valleys, what more does one need than a place like Shimla to rest for a few days. I made friends with the rail motor car driver on our way to Shimla, who told me that though the spelling’s actually Simla, people call it Shimla and the name is derived from ‘Shamla’ another name of Goddess Kali.
The place Shimla itself was a holiday resort and as and when we reached it, the chilly weather welcomed us into it heartily where great Himalayas hosted the party. The place was very cold. At about 2:30 in the afternoon, we walked up 2 Km to Jakhu hill from where we had a magnificent panoramic view of the city and its breath-taking surroundings.
I was given a tourist guide booklet on Himachal Pradesh which I stopped reading after a few pages for the fear of remaining there and forgetting about the other part of journey.
It was so tempting that for once, I decided to continue my one-day-delay and stay the full quota of 52 hrs which is not enough to stay staring at the snow-capped spectacular Himalayas.
An adviser at Oberoi offered me to take to a place and after he promised to drop me back, we went to Narkanda about 65 Km from Shimla and OH! My! It was a skiing base. That was the place if you love cold. There was the unparalleled views of the eternal snowline. We participated in the grandeur of skiing for a while and that Oberoi fellow –Sanjay Sharma was his name, led us through a short walk to the peak –Hatu and if you had ever been there, you will know why we went there. A beautiful 200 degree panorama from Kinner to Kedarnath was worth gazing at.
A jacket’s a must there. A muffler will protect you from throat and ear problems and there, a blink of an eye looked like a waste of time as we’d miss a split second of the beauty.
From there, on the advice of Sanjay Sharma, we went to Chail, just 45 km away from Shimla. And using his authority, he showed us the famous Chail Palace, now a hotel named ‘Palace Hotel’ and we saw the cricket ground, and even played for about 15 minutes, just as a privilege. You know why? It is the highest cricket ground in the world!
We returned back to Oberoi and it was about 11:00 in the night, I thanked Sanjay Sharma very much for his invaluable treat in his hotel and offered him the charges of petrol in his own truck, by which we roamed. He resisted and as a favour, wanted me to give him the itinerary and recommend him for the same kind of pass I had. I readily agreed and told him my experiences in the first half and later, after completing the whole journey, I wrote him about the other half.
I heard from Raghuvir’s mouth for the first time, a word of praise about my trip.
“It is worth every minute of struggle we encountered from Kanyakumari to this beautiful place through the rail-motor car, which made our journey more picturesque with its old ‘Ford Truck’ shape and spectacular engineering marvel of railways which build the track through the “Shivalik range.” He Said.
Yes, if you go through some exasperating situations and arrive at a place like Himalayas, you will feel as if you’ve landed in paradise by mistake.
Next day, early morning we road through the Himalayas around Shimla in the truck of Sanjay Sharma and by 12:30 after having our lunch we were at the station, resuming our great journey by SNAILS ON WHEELS, the passenger trains.
8. Unexpected Entertainment for Wilson.
We were fresh once again and returned back to Kalka. From there onwards, the journey back into the heat was not that enthusiastic. If you keep travelling that lot, you will lose your interest and as I did, keep waiting for your destination with a blank face. Enroute, I met different classes of people and in that respect during the second half of the journey I met a divergent variety of people, more than during the first half. On our 18th day of journey, we boarded our scheduled train to Sadulpur at Hanumangarh, and Oh! My! There was so much rush that we couldn’t even think of getting into it. Worse than in Tamilnadu where we had to struggle at the toilet corridor. So, Raghuvir and I ran to the Guard’s compartment and made him agree to let us sit with him.
All the way, during the journey, it was fun to watch that poor fellow running between the opposite side doors to exchange signal with the driver. And at times, he whistled so furiously that I wished to snatch that from him and throw it away. But, any way he let us into his private compartment and we were the underdogs.
Sadulpur gave us an unhealthy welcome. We reached at 1:00 in the afternoon and after we completed our lunch and just came out of the station to wander about in the town (as we got our next train next morning at 9:45), two fellows captured us! Just like to capture a wild animal.
One just pushed a revolver into my spinal region and the other got hold of Raghuvir. We were ordered to follow without creating a fuss as they threatened to shoot us. We did and they led us in a car to some building. We were made to stand in the middle of a huge hall and about four ‘goondas’ attacked us. We never exchanged shots, they just closed in on us. They checked us and succeeded in spotting my penknife which I kept underneath the collar on my shoulder. They laughed victoriously at it and threw us into an empty room. I did not understand what they want from us. Nobody talked to us there, they all seemed to be some “Yes Boss” type creatures. At about 6 ‘o clock in the evening, somebody opened the door and a fellow in suit entered the room
“Don’t look at me like that, Mr. Wilson.” He said. “You don’t know me as you’ve never come across me.”
“Why are we kept here?” I asked, “What do you want from us?”
He just gave a little smile and extracted a packet.
“Have you played a game called ‘Identify’ in which you’ve to identify the figures on cards? Of course, it is for 3 year olds.”
“Better come to the point.” Raghuvir recommended.
“OK. Now, Mr. Wilson, I will show you a couple of photographs and you will identify those secret agents and give us their addresses.”
“Why do you want this? You certainly seem older than 3 years” Raghuvir said.
That fellow was just standing in front of both of us and on hearing that, he walked to Raghuvir, gave him a slap and said “Don’t talk more than you are expected of.”
I used this chance, jumped over him and got hold of revolver and pointed it at his head. Everybody there remained stunned and before they recovered, I ordered them to keep their guns down. Raghuvir snatched the photographs and his memory calculator and we slowly began to walk out. Raghuvir was guarding the backside of us so that nobody dared to charge on us. We came out of that building and a police van stopped in front of us. For a few seconds, I was so relieved. But it remained for a very short span of time. The inspector came to me and said. “See mister you cannot kidnap a citizen. On this very charge, I’m arresting both of you.” He ordered two constables to take care of us and snatched the revolver from my hand.
“Thank you, inspector. You came right on time. Otherwise, these two fellows were threatening to kill me. They’re showing some photographs and asking me to recognise them.” The fellow said. I was surprised at his marvellous acting and the splendid art of dialogue delivery.
“I’m sorry sir. But we will not leave these fellows. You may go now, sir.” Said the inspector very respectfully.
“Ah…well….er…well…thank you inspector. But this fellow had snatched away my memory calculator &…….er…..memory calculator…..That’s all.”
“Well sir, you do come to the police station at about 8:00pm and your things will be returned. Right now, I ‘ve to take these two to the police station and deal a lot with them.”
“Why don’t you listen to us, inspector?” I commanded. He was a little surprised.
“I am a detective and this is my assistant. Now, we’ve been kidnapped by this fellow and his gang and brought here. We neither belong to this place nor is this building ours. How can you arrest us like this brutally?”
By that time, the inspector looked a bit worried.
“Look mister,” he said and came close to me. “You keep your mouth shut and follow to the police station, or I will have to treat you badly. You understand? Good! Now this is Mr. Lunilal, assistant superintendent of police, so, don’t try to be over-active here.” The inspector however introduced that fellow who was then in “Mufti” as they call it.
This ASP, I heard was a very notorious police official and Sharma, my friend and a senior CBI officer told me that he got information about a police officer in Churu district, and that he is taking part in anti-national activities and just wishing to investigate him. So this must be that fellow. Sharma told me all this, just the night before I left to Kanyakumari on my adventurous holiday.
I was led into the van and we rode away into a police station. The inspector led us into a room and made us sit in chairs. He ordered all the constables to get out and locked the door.
“Inspector, believe us, we….” I wanted to say something but the inspector signalled with his finger-on-lips and I got it and kept quiet.
“You are in the right place Mr. Wilson. All this is just a part of the drama.” The inspector whispered.
For once, I understood nothing. But slowly everything was getting settled.
Finally I learned, with some hints from the inspector that the following had happened.
Mr.Sharma, the CBI official, deliberately leaked the news that I would be reaching Sadulpur on the particular day so that the ASP Lunilal might try to take advantage of that. He had been asked by the enemy intelligence department to provide them with the information about suspected Indian secret agents and he got the photographs taken by the intelligence department themselves and also by the ASP and some by his allies. In order to know their biographies, their names and their addresses so as to kill or trap them in their country. Who else would be of better help than I, as I know many of them.
So, as I would be unprotected Lunilal planned to kidnap me and learn those names. This Lunilal most probably was working for some enemy spies. So he did kidnap me and Raghuvir. The police just wanted this and they followed us to his den. The police knew I was no fool and as Sharma told them, in about half an hour of the arrival of Lunilal, I would turn tables and get hold of him and so did I. Then, I would search his pockets and get the things so that he might not misuse them. Then the police enters the scene and catch us along with the important photographs and his calculator. All that happened as expected by Mr. Sharma and played a key role in this drama only to trap Lunilal, red-handed.
We changed the complete set of photographs with those of criminals and packed them as it was when we snatched from Lunilal.
We noted down a few telephone numbers from the memory calculator, but were unsuccessful in opening the ‘secret’ section of it.
Suddenly, a police jeep stopped in front of the police station. We recognised it as the ASP’s. Immediately I tore my shirt and Raghuvir his as the inspector went to open the door.
“Inspector, I want my memory calculator.” Ordered Lunilal as he entered into the room.
“Just you wait sir, I will teach these fellows a lesson. They call themselves detectives. This idiot says he is George Wilson and this muddy his assistant! Why on earth will they kidnap a police?” inspector acted superbly.
“I know nothing. Give me the calculator.” Ordered ASP.
“Yes… Sir.. here …sir” Inspector handed him the calculator. “You got anything other than this from their pockets? They were showing some photographs.. or something and asking me to identify them. I want them for reasons of security. Give me.”
The inspector gave him the packet which he dropped into his pocket and walked out after smiling at us.
Just as he walked out to his jeep, telephone rang. It was a good news. The men arrested from the building where we were caught, agreed that they worked for Lunilal and their voices were recorded.
I got an idea. I said to the inspector if we could follow the ASP to his house and blackmail of force him to open the secret data of his memory calculator, it would be most useful for the case.
So we did follow him in a taxi as doing so in police jeep would be fooling. That ASP was staying in a guest house and on seeing inspector at the gate, we were allowed in. By that time, I changed my shirt with that of inspector’s temporarily. (He was in his uniform).
On seeing both of us the ASP was stunned. We dragged him at gun point into a room where his servants would not be watching us. We terrorised him that the real photographs were with us and they’ve got his fingerprints, and we didn’t touch them. It would be a point in the court. We even threatened to kill him with his own revolver and later say that as he tried to shoot us, we managed to snatch it and when he almost jumped over us shot him. CBI and the police are unmatched at telling tales, you know.
At last, that fellow surrendered and by that time, the sub-inspector reached there with arrest warrant. It was already 11:00 in the night and so, we packed off to our railway retiring room to take rest and get ready for our train at 9:45 next morning. After shaking hands with the inspector, who- because he was selected by Mr. Sharma to do the job was a very sincere fellow. I left the rest of series of arrests that would follow of the enemy spies, our won anti-national elements, to Mr. Sharma and the inspector and fell asleep. It felt that I was in this case only as a prey in a trap on seeing which a mouse runs into it and gets fooled & trapped.
However, this was an unexpected entertainment for us during our long boring train journey.
9. The Last Lap
After that, all was mechanical. Travelling in a train getting out of it, waiting for another one, taking rest if got time and catching another train. At times, I even felt that I would be travelling like that for years together.
The longest break (except Shimla) enroute was at Dadar, where we were surprised to find that only one passenger train runs towards Pune. We had to wait there for 20 ½ hours.
The journey was a splendid experience. Though you get bored on going by passenger trains, you‘ll develop yourself mentally and physically afterwards. That’s what I felt.
Our last lap of the journey was very paining. Almost at every change from Bangalore, we had to make a night halt.
We reached Bangalore on 27th day and it took 5 days to reach Kanyakumari. Worse, we had to make a night halt at Trivandrum, just 87 Km from our destination- Kanyakumari. We could not sleep that night. I could not believe myself as the train almost reached Kanyakumari, that I had really made such a fantastic trip around India.
“Is it all really over? Or we have to take another train?” Raghuvir asked as we stepped out of the train at Kanyakumari. He could not believe his ears when I said ‘No’. It was not that easy to forget the great company the trains gave us and it was new all the way.
We returned to Trivandrum next day early morning by the Bombay express, after visiting the Vivekananda rock and the beautiful merging of Bay of Bengal & Arabian Sea with the Indian Ocean.
From Trivandrum, we took the 11 ‘o clock flight (Air India domestic service) to Bombay and from there, 15:30 nonstop flight to Delhi. By 6 ‘o clock in the evening we were home!
Thank you.
George Wilson.
So, that was the story of a detective who ran around India in 32 days. Here is the itinerary based on which, I wrote the story.
Kanyakumari – Tirunelveli – Vanchimaniyachchi* – Madhurai – Manamadhurai* – Madras* – Ongole – Vijayawada* – Visakhapattanam* – Palasa – Bhubaneswar* – Howrah* – Kiul – Gaya – Mughalsarai* – Allahabad* – Kanpur – Rae Bareli* – Bareilly* – Saharanpur* – Ambala Cantt – Kalka* – Shimla*** – Kalka* – Ambala Cantt* – Bhatinda – Hanumangarh* – Sadulpur* – Ratnagarh – Mertar road* – Marwar* – Mahesana* – Ahmadabad – Surat* – Dadar(Bombay)* – Pune – Miraj** – Hubli – Arsikere* – Bangalore* – Salem – Erode – Coimbattore* – Shoranur* – Ernakulam – Kottayam* – Quilon – Trivandrum* – Kanyakumari.
The Towns indicate the stations where a train was changed and the star indicates the change of date.
From – Siva Ram Chandra
8th August 1993
One Last Word
After 21 years of writing this short story, I could find it, thanks to the motivation by Lakshmi Pathi Khandrika, my cousin who actually mentioned this story among the ones that inspired him to writing and reading when he was a kid. I am honoured. Ravindra Khandrika then took pain to read through the story, hand written in a small note book and digitize it for me.
Their inspiration and encouragement from all around, I present this story to all of you. Just a note to think, I had not travelled to any of the places mentioned in the story, not even one. Whatever details I could get from libraries, news papers and books around helped me build the story. Weird as it may sound, google did not exist to help me with the maps, hotels, etc on a virtual trip or else, this could have been a travelogue! Thanks for reading
(Sivaram Chintalapati, 19 September 2014).
THE SNAILS ON WHEELS
George Wilson Series - 8 THE END
That was a very good read. It is interesting to note that you got the facts & details in the days when there was no internet. Now we can't imagine searching anything without Google. I wish you get George Wilson out of retirement or holiday where ever he is & give him some more cases. :) Waiting for more stories from you .
ReplyDeleteThanks Ravindra for the comments. It would be good to revive the character and write more, but sadly, ideas and time are in short supply. I do plan to dedicate time to write some thing, may not be fiction, but some thing. Let us see how this goes.
DeleteIt's really interesting to imagine a small boy dreaming so deep. It's so thrilling to read and imagine I almost felt as if I am... In that place. Wonderfully written.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much.
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