A.B.C.D - Apache, Brindavan, Corona, Danishpet

A Railfan’s plans are subject to market risks. Read all train related updates carefully.

21^st of March would be the day I say Tata to AIG. Two days later, I’d ride from Coimbatore to Mysuru, then Bengaluru, a little north to Hyderabad, and reach Chennai by the end of the week. My bike would complete 50k on the odometer before it turns 5. Life’s good. Corona Virus says hello.

The first change happens because of the pandemic. 20^th March, the Friday would be my last working day. I leave directly for Chennai on the 21^st. 493 kms and two halts at Salem and Ulundurpet would mean approximately 8 hrs for the journey. This wasn’t exactly how I wanted it, but who can fight COVID-19.

By Friday evening, there were more reasons to change plans again. A Ghaziabad WAP5 class locomotive, usually rare in the southern part of the country was coming with the Mumbai Nagercoil Express that goes via Salem, Namakkal, and Madurai. Corona or not, I was not going to miss out on clicking it. My railfanning stints are usually solo and with least possible human contact, so if you’re planning to bash my ideas, do read on before you do.

Danishpet is a small village at the base of the Yercaud hills in the Eastern Ghats. At km 310 from Chennai, it marks the end of the mini ghat section that begins at Lokur. A very picturesque railway station, which, for reasons unknown, has never attracted railfans in hordes. If not for Corona, a railfan from Bengaluru and I would have trekked these hills a week from now, but that’s now cancelled for good. Yet, if I make a small detour in my ride to Chennai, I could still manage to capture the WAP5 here.

The train reaches Salem at 15.35 hours in the afternoon. Salem is a two and half hour ride from 

Coimbatore, and Chennai is a five and half hour ride from Salem, on my Apache, at my lethargic pace. The perfectionist in me comes out only when I travel. I should reach my spot neither early nor late. A good 20 minutes is the minimum time I require as buffer and waiting for more than an hour for a single train in any kind of weather is a strict No.

Exactly at 10 AM, Dhvani Bhanushali ka break up ho gaya. Half an hour later, I left from RHR Singanallur for Chennai. My bike’s engine and transmission weren’t exactly at their best. This meant that my Maximum Permissible Speed was restricted to 80 kmph, just like the recently screwed up Andhra Pradesh Express, but let’s keep that for later. A good breakfast and a full tank meant I was all set to go.

Two and half hours later, as predicted, I was riding over the numerous flyovers of Salem. Now, if there’s a ratio of Area of City to Number of Flyovers, Salem would beat New Delhi hands down. I went past the junction where the bypass to Chennai splits. Finally at Omalur, I stopped by to have my lunch. National Train Enquiry System said the train I am supposed to capture had departed from Kuppam, which gave me a good two hours before it would reach Danishpet. I was 20 mins away.

Mushroom, as people close to me would know, is my favourite food. Soup, Mushroom. Starters, Mushroom. Gravy, Mushroom. I understand that the variety on my platter has mushroom for improvement, yet I chose Mushroom Biryani for lunch again. 30 odd minutes to finish it and I hit the road again, reaching Danishpet around 14.30 hrs. The train had just reached Doddampatti, giving me ample time to set up camera and decide my angle of capture.

Meanwhile on whatsapp, new updates were received that the Brindavan Express to Bengaluru had gone with Diesel locomotives. Tondiarpet WDM3A twins had hauled Brindavan for the first time in decades. The last time this happened as a regular event, I was not born. If at all such rare events had occurred in the post 90’s era, I had either not been old enough to cover it, or it just never happened. My point is, I had to witness and record this once in a lifetime event. As it is, surviving Corona seems pretty bleak, so why miss the action.

The WAP5 cleared with Nagercoil Express at 15.15 hrs, giving me around two hours for the 125 kms to Patchur, where Brindavan is expected to cross around 17.15 hours. Given the Thoppur ghats in the way, added to the existing Permanent Speed Restriction (PSR) due to Engine issues, this seemed pretty far fetched but I was willing to try. In a six lane road, if three trucks are climbing on all the three lanes in one side, at 15, 16, and 17 kmph respectively, it doesn’t matter if your MPS was 80 kmph or 130. This was precisely what happened in the Thoppur ghats. Creating opportunities, I somehow fought my way through the mighty trucks, reaching Krishnagiri junction by 16.30. Now it was time for Brindavan to depart from Kuppam, which it arrived at 16.45 hrs.

Leaving Krishnagiri after a short break, I accelerated along the Bangalore – Chennai Highway. The highway crosses the Bangalore – Chennai rail route at four places between Krishnagiri and Vellore, namely Patchur, Kettandapatti, Vaniyambadi and Pachakuppam. If lucky, I could get the Brindavan Express at at least two of these places. I reached the bridge at Patchur and NTES said that Brindavan was 1 km to Somanayakampatti, which translated that I had missed it by less than two minutes. The rail route from Patchur to Vaniyambadi takes more than 30 minutes thanks to the useless detour via Jollarpettai Junction, whereas the Highway continues straight and at 60 kmph, one can easily reach in less than 20 minutes. The bridge at Kettandapatti is the least aesthetic and in no time I went past it without bothering a second glance.

As I glanced at the sunset that was going to be beautiful, yet in the wrong angle for my video of Brindavan, a guy on his Fazer 250 hit the divider at more than 130 kmph, less than 200 metres from me. Thankfully, a good number of people gathered around him and called an ambulance which reached the spot in less than 5 minutes. The last update I got is that he was alive while being shifted to the ambulance and his helmet had pretty much been the only reason he survived.

Meanwhile, Brindavan arrived and departed from Vaniyambadi. The sunset was actually beautiful on the Tondiarpet WDM3A twins, and I did regret being amateur with using the DSLR, while also regretting not even attempting to click a photo along with the video I recorded. There are times when you get greedy. Now I wanted to reach Pachakuppam before Brindavan departs Ambur. Did I mention that there were clouds looming when I was clicking the sunset at Vaniyambadi ?

The sky opened up and it was a downpour as I rode along in the torrential rains towards Ambur. In less than five kilometres the skies were clear and road dry, yet precious time was lost. As I came to a halt at one of the two signals at Ambur, NTES confirmed that the train had already crossed Pachakuppam. There was no race or chase, as for impact I brace. Home was the only destination and at 1830 hours, I still had 150 kms to cover.

A dinner break at Ranipet meant I finally reach home at 22.15 hours, one full hour after Brindavan reached Chennai Central. As long as I reached home before Corona struck, I should not be having much regret. 560 kilometres from my place of stay in Coimbatore, via Salem, Danishpet, Vaniyambadi, and Vellore, I had reached home on my Apache. Safe, not sorry.

ABCD. Apache, Brindavan, Corona, Danishpet. 

Wishing a Happy Quarantine’s to all the readers. Do watch the video of the trains captured at https://youtu.be/NqdpvRCZx4o

First Humsafar Express at Egmore - Action Filled Evening With Amazing Twists!!!

The first Humsafar Express to touch Chennai Egmore had absolutely nothing going right as it was trolled even in its fag end of the journey.

PROLOGUE

From being before time a little before Bhopal, to being 1 hour late at Bhopal, 2 hours late at Nagpur, 4 hours late at Balharshah, 5 hours late at Vijayawada and finally 12 hours late at Chennai Egmore while being 9 hours 42 minutes late at Tambaram, courtesy some serious slack.

The train departed Vijayawada soon after I woke up, at 5.40 AM in the morning. Given that it had just 2 halts, I expected the train to be given full priority as there was no other train in front of it, although the high priority Pinakini Express was chasing it, albeit with more halts.

The screw up started around 10 AM at Nellore. Humsafar was looped at every alternate station and overtaken by Pinakini, Bangalore bound Sanghamitra, Shalimar - Chennai Express and the Ongole - Gudur MEMU. Added to this was a line block near Odur that blocked the trains that were now ahead of it.

PRESENT

A fine run from Gudur in Southern Railway meant the train reached Chennai Beach by 5.00 PM. However, there was yet another problem at Egmore. Two trains, Pondicherry - Howrah Superfast and Villupuram - Kharagpur Superfast were diverted via Chennai Egmore - Rengiunta instead of the usual route of Thiruvannamalai - Vellore Cantt - Katpadi - Renigunta. This lead to absolute chaos as the number of platforms at Egmore proved absolutely insufficient.

Chengalpattu - Kacheguda arrived at Egmore as per schedule and departed at 5.05 PM. This was followed by the Puducherry - Howrah SF. Both departed from PF 6. Then, Chengalpattu - Kakinada Circar Express entered PF5 even as Kanyakumari SF left from 4. Villupuram - Kharagpur followed Circar onto PF 6. Sethu left from PF 9 and Boat Mail was shunted onto the same. Meanwhile, Chennai Beach was in chaos. There were Humsafar and Jodhpur - Egmore SF waiting at Beach, Tamil Nadu Sampark Kranti at Washermanpet and it was the evening peak hour as well. Once Circar departed, there was an announcement of Humsafar arriving at 6 PM. It was 6.20 PM and Tirumalpur Fast entered the PF5 where Humsafar was supposed to be berthed. Meanwhile, the Vellore Fast from Melmaruvathur arrived on PF4. Kharagpur SF was still on PF 6. Both the locals left and Humsafar finally arrived at 6.40 PM, taking a good 100 minutes for the 4 Km from Beach to Egmore. As soon as Humsafar arrived, Kharagpur SF left. Chengalpattu Fast was coming on PF6 and Cholan arrived on PF4.

EPILOGUE

Out of the blue, Chengalpattu Fast and Humsafar departed parallel from Egmore. The fast local was switched to the A line at Kodambakkam as the rake of Pearl City was waiting on the B line to be shunted to Egmore. Humsafar followed the local to Tambaram, finally reaching at 7.42 PM, late by 10 hours 42 minutes.

A Bluetiful Date....

A blue eyed girl in a blue salwar

A blooming flower in a blue metro car

A blueberry bird flying afar

A blue hued love beneath the star

He would have loved to call it his fist date with her. Having known her for many years since school, he had started talking just weeks before. He had been stunned by the pace at which they grew close. A replica of himself, he had missed knowing for years. He reached her office a few minutes late. It didn’t matter as the delay was mutual, just like many other stuff. They had planned to both wear blue.

He mentally swooned as he caught sight of her exiting her workplace. Drop dead gorgeous seemed lacking as English didn’t have the adjectives to describe her. Time stopped, as did his eyes. They were awestruck and stuck on her face, drinking in her beauty.

Chennai’s traffic meant they went by the Metro and not his bike. He was glad as he just wanted to keep looking at her. Metro was also the fastest way to Anna Nagar from Ashok Nagar. Anna Nagar is a heaven for foodies and couples. So, the bike was laid to rest in the parking as the train whooshed into the station.

Memories hit hard, harder than trains probably. He was controlling his tears.

An Italian restaurant in Anna Nagar was the destination. The foodie he was, he couldn’t understand how she could eat so less. The ice cream was less of a disaster as she ate more. As she gracefully ate a spoon of ice cream, he couldn’t help staring open mouthed. He was melting faster than the butterscotch on her lips.

 Food apart, he couldn’t figure out what was going on in her mind. Was it a date? Was he acting stupid? Desperate idiot seemed more apt to him. He decided that it would be the worst idea to kiss her and tell her that she was the most beautiful woman he had set his eyes on. Holding her hands was bliss and he still didn’t know if it was a date.

It was a bad idea, he thought. He wanted to know, he knew. He blurted out after contemplating for long. “Do you think this is our first date?” Silence.

He knew he had screwed it. History was repeating. Regret for his words.

“Yes”, she smiled. Ecstatic failed to describe his emotions. Alcohol would have never made him so high, ever. A grin he had long lost, was slowly beginning to come afore. A story was beginning.

Two little people, each draped in blue, one beautiful couple, together like glue.

Deep in his heart, he knew. It was the beginning. A beautiful story that would lead to yet another tragic end.

First Day Show, The Race Against Fate to watch KABALI !!!

The release of Kabali, starring Superstar Rajnikant had created unprecedented waves across Tamil Nadu and many parts of the country. Many companies had declared a holiday, well knowing that employees would avail of a leave even if it hadn’t been declared. A college had postponed its examination so that it won’t be a hindrance for the students to catch up with the action. Meanwhile, five students race against time to complete their work at college and also catch up with the movie, before leaving the city on their respective trips.

22^nd June 2016. The college was buzzing with almost everyone in class having purchased the tickets for Kabali, scheduled to release the next day. Being a Marwari, despite being born and brought up in Chennai, Tamil movies seldom fascinate me. However, the teaser of Kabali had induced excitement in me to watch the movie at any cost. With Saaluvesh in the squad, an ardent fan of “Thalaivar”, it was all the more important that we catch up with the movie on the first day.

We, despite the frenzy, hadn’t got the tickets as we didn’t feel like standing in the scorching sun just to get measly tickets. By afternoon, we realized that Mayajaal had still not opened the booking. We rushed to Mayajaal despite our indifference for the horrible screen quality there. Nikhil, Pranoy and Guru decided to stay at Mayajaal under the pretext of watching some horrible movie to get the tickets. Three hours later at college, we were cursing our luck as we had to stay back and receive our racing team’s car from the transporters who were bringing it from Delhi. Pranoy and Guru had got tickets at a theatre near their house, courtesy their school friends and we five were stranded.

By 7PM, we were at Vandalur, sitting on Saaluvesh’s car wondering if the day could get any worse. The truck driver was from Nagaland. He wasn’t ready to deliver the car by the night as the trailer had developed a technical snag near Madurantakam. Ragu and Vinay were trying to contact the travels dealer from the college while we were counting the number of cars crossing Vandalur signal. Utkarsh, a friend of Saaluvesh, studying in SRM, came as a God sent, as he welcomed us to his room at Potheri. While the phone calls were being exchanged between Ragu and the truck driver, we were trying our level best to understand the “Railfan” talks of Utkarsh and Saaluvesh, to no avail though.

With our phones charged and information received that we had to drive up to Madurantakam to get our project car, we dreaded at the sight of a long dreary night ahead. Meanwhile Nikhil and Saaluvesh were trying to find tickets in theatres far away from the city such as Vaniyambadi and Ambur. The very thought of watching a movie sitting in broken chairs and without AC was nauseating and Prateek was frowning at the very thought of spending on such a long trip. Thankfully, Saaluvesh had to leave for Trichy in 24 hours and this wasn’t to be executed.

Four hours later, we were sitting in the car, near Madurantakam, in the truck parking bay. The local truck driver from Kelambakkam, who was to shift our car to college was yet to arrive. The rain, thankfully, kept us awake as we waited like vagabonds in the middle of nowhere and cursing our luck. Meanwhile, Ragu and Vinay broke the news that they had got the tickets for Kabali at a theatre in TIruporur. That was the reason, they had been late to start from college. I could just visualize our gang as the goats for the night’s sacrifice to the Almighty, for say, the sake a successful box office run for Kabali.

The truck driver arrived at half past one and then began the humongous ask of shifting our race car from a huge Nagaland registered trailer to a mini truck. The hydraulics of the trailer caught my attention though. It was interesting to see the huge door open as the hydraulic pumps were being activated electronically from the truck’s battery. It included some technical “jugaad” but let’s have that story for another time. After about thirty minutes of work, the car was loaded on to the smaller truck and we were all set to leave.

Our group is full of vegetarians although some eat egg at times. The sight of non veg is nauseating to me but I could still see the sacrificial goats getting slaughtered and the names Sandip, Prateek, Nikhil and Saaluvesh engraved in bold on them. Ragu and Vinay drove off under the pretext of getting a smoke while we had to trail the mini truck to ensure the safety of the car. It also included explaining to officials that the car was ours and it was not being stolen, if stopped and queried. The only luck that went our way was the lack of any such untoward incident. Untoward incidents could also mean a hungry Saaluvesh getting pissed off in the middle of the road and refusing to drive further. His stomach however decided that we had had enough and didn’t disturb us.

At college, it wasn’t the best of works as the lab was locked and the key was with the HoD who was more than a hundred kilometres away. However, as the negotiations were on to decide where the car was to be parked until the morning, Saaluvesh realized that tickets were available for Kabali at C3 cinemas, Chengalpattu and Nikhil rammed Saaluvesh’s car into Vinay’s. It’s not every day that someone rams a car from behind into the only other car parked in over hundred metres long and twenty metres wide parking lot. Damages were nil as the speed was about that of a sloth but it was enough for Nikhil to never drive Saaluvesh’s car again.

Five tickets were booked for the afternoon show that begins three hours after noon. Saaluvesh decided to board his train from Tambaram instead of Egmore and Nikhil believed that he could convince his dad to take his Fiesta. To be frank, Nikhil’s fiesta has a better AC than Saaluvesh’s dZire but despite being a good driver, Nikhil was yet to obtain his license, which meant he never brought his car. He believed, using Saaluvesh’s name would be good enough to get his car. I was fine with going by train, but the theatre was a good eight kilometres from Chengalpattu railway station and on the highway, which translated into poor connectivity.

The security guards let us park our race car next to the automobile department, but only upto nine in the morning after which, it would be seized or dismantled if not removed. I didn’t believe they’d do that but it wasn’t my headache. We had suffered enough for the night and the lack of sleep was immense. We drove to Besant Nagar beach. It was about to be four in the morning and Saaluvesh felt we could spend an hour at the beach rather than disturb his parents’ sleep.

Halfway towards the sea, we heard the police siren and a warning was issued that we report to the patrol vehicle immediately. We were asked not to venture towards the sea until five, which meant Saaluvesh preferred dropping us at Broadway. He dropped me near my house and Prateek somewhere near his house. I know for sure Saaluvesh would never visit Prateek’s house even in a life and death situation. He’d invite Prateek over but would never return the visit. Reasons unknown but I just know he won’t.

A sound sleep and eleven hours after midnight, I was calling Saaluvesh but he was snoring away in glory. Akshay, instead of Prateek, was coming for the movie. It was an hour since noon when Saaluvesh finally turned up at Nikhil’s house in Tambaram. Being late is something he doesn’t like but somehow ends up late every time. It was a shock to me that Nikhil’s father asked Saaluvesh to drive. He himself expected Nikhil to drive. However, the lack of a license, or loss of a license as claimed by Nikhil, meant Saaluvesh was to drive. Saaluvesh is good enough a driver to drive any vehicle without much fuss. His claim of not being to adapt to different vehicles seems a lame excuse to me. We reached the theatre with five minutes to spare. The melee meant we got to our seats five minutes late but it also meant the movie would begin ten minutes late.

“Naa vandhutten nu sollu. Thirumbi vandhutten nu. Epdi ponaaro, Kabali apdiye thirumbi vandhutaar nu poyi sollu”, the charisma of Rajnikant is just unassailable. It was one of the best entry scenes I had seen in any Tamil movie. I haven’t watched many, so I suppose that’s the best. The movie wasn’t what we expected. The teaser had shown us a mass movie that would be loved by the masses. It turned out to be a class movie loved by people of all classes. The interval had us waiting for more as Rajnikant had been shot and rumours had been rife that Rajnikant dies in the movie. Given that it’s a slow movie, the thrill levels had just reached the zenith just before the interval. The second half was slightly faster. There was some of the usual Rajni effect. The climax was left open as the audience only here a gun shot and don’t know the fate of the don, Kabaleeswaran.

The movie had not lived up to its expectations. It had been way more than that. Walking in to a movie expecting action and ending up with one of the most poignant tales of a don searching for his long lost wife had made our struggle worthwhile. The fact that we travelled nearly seventy kilometres from Broadway, just to watch Thalaivar showed his enormous appeal in the silver screen.

We drove up to Vandalur where we caught a train to Beach. Saaluvesh drove upto Tambaram station and handed the reins of the car to Nikhil as he caught his train to Tiruchy. Nikhil, thankfully, drove his car home without any untoward incident and the sleep that night was satisfying after thirty six hours of work and fun. 

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.

Mental Wreck on a Physical Trek

                One, two, three, four, five..... That was a penta header, my first spotting of one, rather five locos together. The two ALCos at the helm of our train along with a couple at the tail braked as Amaravathi came to a halt. Sonalium, it was, the place from where the trek up the Braganza was set to begin.

                The dream location for every railfan was a trek of one thirds a dozen kilometres away. The ocean of milk, no, not the Milky Way galaxy, the Dudhsagar was our destination. The route is not one where trains whiz past every minute like the suburbs of Chennai or Mumbai. It is a serene route through the Braganza ghats in Goa. All this description is to assert that it is absolutely safe to walk on the railway tracks here unless a snake or a scorpion decides to join the leech in giving you a welcome into their territory.

                The trek began on an enthusiastic note. However I was soon left behind by the others, partly because I wanted to enjoy the scenery surrounding me, more so as I was the fattest in the trio. Wandering in a forest a thousand kilometres from home that I was, the thoughts in my mind were wandering thousands of kilometres around the world. With my college life all set to begin a week later, reminiscence of school life took over. There was an envelope of gloom with the clouds covering the sky and my heart was no different. It was not because I was going to miss my school days. It was because my friends had left me behind, not in the trek, but in life. While my classmates had qualified for IITs and NITs, I was going to join just another university in Chennai. The first quarter of my life was over and I was in wilderness. The jungle surrounding me confirmed my scenario. The only difference between my short trek and the long run was that in the former, I knew my destination while in the latter, I was clueless. The similarity was that I was just going forward in the path ahead, not knowing what lay in store, en route.

                I soon caught up with my friends, not because I ran quickly, but because they waited for me. We had covered a half and two kilometres. The view point for the Dudhsagar had been reached. It was the first week of July and water was gushing in Dudhsagar, covering the entire breadth of the cascade. The sight was a dream that had finally come true. Or did it? My reverie was broken by a swear by my friend. My eyes popped in wonder. It was not the Dudhsagar. Fear not, as we had not reached the Jog Falls or the Niagara. It was the Dudhsagar but a trickle was all that remained. It was not the furious gush that tourists enjoyed during July. The Dudhsagar was a mere Dudh Nala (canal).

                A few arguments and slangs later, my first sign of victory that day emerged as I could convince my friends to stay at the view point in wait of a train. My luck was not as bad as I had cursed it to be as within a couple of minutes the honk of a loco was heard. The icing on the cake was that an imported yellow WDG4 was one of the two locos that hauled the freighter. Seven full minutes after it came to our view at the falls, the entire rake had finished crossing us, a good two kilometres away by track.

                As soon as the train had crossed, continued the trek that we did. This time, thank to the dark deadly tunnels that we had to cross, my friends had decided to slow down. However these tunnels were not going to slow me in any way. I was already walking at the speed my friends were walking after slowing down. As we neared the falls, we were blessed with showers. Although the rain did add to the beauty of the cascade, the fact that, for the first time since I was born, Dudhsagar was not at its raging best during the first week of July. I suppose all the swearing at my luck was indeed valid.

Monotonous Monday Morning !!

My eyes opened up only because my ears opened up to a screech. It was the damned alarm in my phone. A look at the clock told me many Shatabdis across India would have just departed. The time was 0602 hours. An internal surge gave the urge to purge and made me trudge to the washroom with grudge. The first call in the morning was as usual, from mother nature. The next was from mummy asking if my tummy wanted some milk. A sleepy yes and my eyes were looking for my phone. Centuries are reached within minutes in whatsapp when you are members of railfan groups. A sleepy scroll and  "GM" sent to all groups ended my morning tryst with whatsapp. School days are history and college days are mystery but my hand still gropes for a book in Chemistry.


A realization that it is a monday dawns well after dawn when mom hands out the list of jobs to be attended. Giving me a some jobs to attend means an extra job is on the cards. Since I would require the scooter to complete the tasks, I would have to drop mom at her school as well. The rush begins at 0845 hours. Dad is all set to kick the bike and I was already a kilometre ahead with mom. The return wasn't as peaceful. People generally say a cat crossing the in your route won't augur well. It turned out to be a dog this time. Irritation levels reach their zenith when you are forced to brake from 60 kmph to nil just to avoid hitting a wandering stray, thereby risking your life and those of the people trailing you. The traffic was in the reverse direction and thus the consequences were minimal as the need to accelerate all over again was the only frustration. Oops, i spoke too soon. My dad was crossing in the opposite direction and had heard me swearing at that bitch, or was it a dog. Well its gender doesn't matter here, my dad's frown does. Some scoldings were to be received in the evening.

It was just in the nick of time did I realize that I had to go the bank. A quick turn and I reached in time to get the first token of the day. My luck is never generally good with banking and it was no exception that day. A small work which was to end in a couple of minutes took a couple of dozens of minutes to end thanks to the computer getting hanged.

The next job was to pay the mobile bills at the telephone exchange and reaching there by 0928 hours, I knew my day wasn't going to be good. Bills could be paid only from 1030 hours. I decided to finish the final job of the morning which I knew, would take enough time for me to pay the bills enroute home. It was to pay the insurance for the scooter at Ramkay Services which was about a kilometre away. The officer there was good enough to cancel both my jobs for the morning. He wanted me to produce certain documents proving that I was the owner of the vehicle. The vehicle was in my mom's name and all the so-called proofs and documents were with my mom. It was 0950 when I knew nothing was to go right that day.

I decided to take a detour back home via the school I studied in more than 800 days ago. It wasn't much of nostalgia but just a hope of getting a glimpse. The kids were monotonously repeating what the teachers said and I began to pity the people living in the neighbourhood. It was around 1010 hours when I absentmindedly knocked on the doors of an empty house, forgetting that I had the key.

The monotonous monday morning seemed more monotonous than a monotone.

-Ssk