This wasn’t the usual Coromandel
Express ride: the one that starts at 9:05 sharp and makes you smell mustard oil
all the way. This one was minus the friends; one that makes you think that that
the true essence of life is to be busy; one which brings out the realization
that everyone has something worthwhile to do in life that being on a 26 hour
train journey is the last of their things to do. With a mind full of hope of
getting my passport finally stamped, I boarded the Coromandel Express which
started at 8:45 a.m., again, sharp.
The Calcutta Chromosome is a good
train read. Although it had a few bits and pieces of a futuristic Calcutta, it
wasn’t too different from the present day city. Only a few cities have that
charm to not let time take over and Calcutta will be at the pole position,
every single one of those times. She is a city that has all that the future
holds, and yet can coexists with the past simultaneously.
A simple example would be the transportation system in Calcutta. Get down at Howrah -> take a ferry to Babu Ghat -> walk around the old British architecture buildings, whiling away time with a Kachori and cha around the court corners -> hop on a tram -> get down at Esplanade -> take a metro to Park Street -> have nimbupani -> come back in a bus to Madras Café -> have a tummy-filling South Indian meal -> head back to Babu Ghat. Whaddya know - it’s already dark! For anyone not from East, the sky becoming pitch dark at 5:30 is a phenomenon, but that’s how our IST standardization works. Welcome to Calcutta – the futuristic city of the ‘60s!
A simple example would be the transportation system in Calcutta. Get down at Howrah -> take a ferry to Babu Ghat -> walk around the old British architecture buildings, whiling away time with a Kachori and cha around the court corners -> hop on a tram -> get down at Esplanade -> take a metro to Park Street -> have nimbupani -> come back in a bus to Madras Café -> have a tummy-filling South Indian meal -> head back to Babu Ghat. Whaddya know - it’s already dark! For anyone not from East, the sky becoming pitch dark at 5:30 is a phenomenon, but that’s how our IST standardization works. Welcome to Calcutta – the futuristic city of the ‘60s!
My train to New Jalpaiguri (it took
me some Bangla training to get the pronunciation right. So let’s just call it
NJP) was at 5:30 p.m. It’s the December cold that makes the matki-cha wala, a
millionaire (in paisa terms) on the platform. Burdwan (or Bardhamman or
Vardhamman) invoked the Bengali in me, but it was after office hours and it
wasn’t difficult for me to put him on the “Hobe Na” mode. One gets to meet
interesting characters in a train journey and the most common thing amongst
them is the level of distrust their eyes convey. “So, you are travelling alone
eh? I despise you! And don’t think you can steal my kid!” Perceptions change
when you take out a withered copy of 1984. Then they trust you like how they
would trust a condom. “I trust you, but I pray that you don’t tear up that
trust and prove to be a rogue”. Tell them that you are a pseudo-intellectual
from NIT-IIT, and you are already family. No one pays any heed to that pseudo-intellectuality
though. Brand plays and pays for the free luchi puris that you just shared.
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| The only good photo I took on the trip |
Kamrup Express was on time and NJP
was cold. Cold to the extent that the juvenile pleasure of smoking without even
lighting a cigarette was possible. I waited and waited for a train from Delhi
which was already 4 hours late. Prashant finally made it to the NJP station at
around 9 and soon after, we went searching for shared autos to the Siliguri bus
stand. The last bus to Jaigaon was about to leave at 11:20 a.m. and we were
lucky enough to get seats on the overcrowded bus. Taking the hilly terrain into
consideration, a journey of approximately 150 km would take us about 5 hours.
The hopes of seeing the sun setting in India looked glim, but the excitement of
being in a different country for another 10 days kept my spirits up!
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| Photo by Prashant Arora |
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| Photo by Prashant Arora |
With broken Bengali, we found our way
to the border. We paid the share-auto-guy in Rupees and he returned the change
in Ngultrums. Our first ‘phoreign’ currency exchange! With much fascination, we
crossed the border. Wait, wait! Hold on for a minute now. I had to take a step
back and peer into India before moving forward. Oh my Gawd! What is this place?
Is this how Bangladeshis feel, when they step into India? Serene, clean,
orderly, lesser people and smiling ones too (bloody they even use indicators to
take a turn). Welcome to Bhutan – the land of the thunder-dragon and I hope you
are not carrying any cigarettes!
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| Photo by Prashant Arora |
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