Shirdi Mei Babaji Ka Thullu!

It was a beautiful Saturday evening when our work at Pune ended. Our train to Chennai was on Monday morning which meant about 36 hours to while away. We had planned to pay a visit to the shrine of Sai Baba at Shirdi. Thanks to the name of being an expert with trains, I was handed the responsibility of planning and executing the trip. Since the three others wanted an early morning darshan, they were ready to get crushed in the Pataliputra express that departs Pune at 2055 and reaches Kopargaon at half past one. However, lethargic loonies that my cronies turned out to be, we left for the station from our place of stay, a good six kilometers away, with about fifteen minutes left for our train to depart. Pune traffic isn’t generally very high but when your luck runs faster than you do, even Rahul Gandhi might end up having a better IQ than you. Reaching the station five minutes after the scheduled departure of the Pataliputra bound train hadn’t prevented us from frantically running towards the platform after obtaining our tickets. My instincts told me that we could catch our train at Daund Jn if we had a connecting train to Daund soon.

Spotting a train arriving on some random platform with a diesel locomotive, I ran down the stairs followed by three people who had no clue about what was going on. The destination board read that it was the biweekly express to Chennai from Ahmedabad via Panvel. “This goes to Daund and it will reach before Pataliputra express departs”, I assured my friends as we jumped into the unreserved compartment that seemed quite empty given that we actually had place to sit comfortably. It wasn’t that we didn’t have any trains to Shirdi if we missed the Pataliputra express at Daund as there was the Gondia bound Maharashtra Express around midnight, except that it would be quite late and we would miss the early morning Darshan. However, a backup at Daund reassured me to take the risk of boarding the Chennai bound train.

Our train departed fifteen minutes past nine and five minutes past the scheduled departure. A girl standing next to the Ahmedabad bound Duronto distracted the trio while the mismatched livery was my source of amusement. An hour into hour departure from Pune, our train slowed down as we approached Daund. My worst fears seemed to be coming true. Our train might be left in the lurch, stranded at the home signal as the Pataliputra express might be allowed to depart. A nervous nine seconds later, the change in the signal made me smile like I had got committed with the love of my life. Our train slowly accelerated towards the station. The sight of a WDP4D humming with the Pataliputra express took my excitement to the zenith. I had successfully brought my friends to board the train we had missed. Our train seemed to be accelerating at the same speed of my excitement. The speed seemed a bit too high for a stopping train. Realization dawned upon me as I stared deep at the signal ahead. Ahmedabad Chennai Biweekly Express via Panvel does not stop at Daund.

When you have three pairs of shocked eyes staring at you for misleading them into boarding the wrong train when they trusted your passion and knowledge blindly, the heart desperately wants the brain to command a jump from the door of a speeding train. The brain was however too shocked to react to this situation. A rather late glance at the timetable of the train informed us that we would have to wait until Solapur to alight. Curses poured in at speeds that left the speeding train look like a snail. The fact that I wasn’t interested in going to Shirdi in the first place only intensified their suspecting a conspiracy on my part. The shrill tone of the train rushing into the wilderness through midnight only added to the fear.

Thirty terrible minutes later, the train stopped at a remote station Bhigwan. I urged my friends to alight promising to correct my error. Thankfully they trusted me, though not wholeheartedly. The Railway Police Force personnel at the station and the station master present were sympathetic to our error and said that we could take the Siddheshwar express that comes at a quarter past one to Daund and the Manmad bound passenger from Pune, to Puntamba which is the closest station to Shirdi. A half and two hours were to be spent on the platform in a cold railway station in the middle of a jungle in winter at midnight. As a railfan, I was excited about the prospect of enjoying high speed diesel action in the middle of the night while the human in me pitied my friends for my betrayal.

Sleep had deserted as thanks to being in a deserted station. High speed train action and friends having fun increases the speed of time many folds and this was no exception. The Super to Dadar, Hussain Sagar from the city of Hussain Sagar and the Jayanti Janata from the city of the Virgin Goddess were some of the trains to skip Bhigwan at a high speed. Meanwhile we decided to explore the station. A short walk from the platform brought us to a view that nearly paralyzed us. A lone truck stood along with some  old wagons on a track that didn't seem to have been used for half a decade. The bravest in the group decided to walk some more distance from the track to answer the call of nature only to rush back thanks to the eeriness in the area.

The Pataliputra Express departed Kopargaon, our scheduled destination by that train at half past one, as we sat freezing on the platform watching the Siddheshwar Express loop into the station. Two long dozen minutes later, we pulled into Daund, hungry and tired. Hot Vadapavs and a few lays packets filled our stomachs temporarily as the wait for the passenger from Pune continued. Three hours past midnight and ten minutes past its scheduled departure, the train lazily pulled into Daund. At thirty minutes past three, it departed with about hundred sleepy passengers and one excited railfan who was experiencing his first journey behind a WDG4D class locomotive, although the lead loco was a WDM3A.

It was the season where the nipping chillness begins a few hours before dawn. Since we had planned to reach Shirdi before the advent of the biting cold, we hadn’t carried any woolens. However, thanks to Babaji ka Thullu at Daund on board the Chennai bound express, we had to be in a train travelling at a high speed through the high plateaus during the coldest hours of the day, or should I say night. Of course, the weather that forced the passengers with woolens to stay in the train didn’t prevent the railfan in me to alight and capture a crossing with a freighter at a station. My body was freezing as a loose cotton Tee and tracks were all that covered my torso and legs when the temperature was 10 degree Celsius.

Our train reached Puntamba Jn at eight in the morning as we took a share auto to Shirdi, reaching the holy town at half past eight. The darshan was peaceful and so was the return by a Volvo to Pune but the experience of the journey to Shirdi will remain one that is cherished and consternated for a lifetime for the four of us.