So my cousin decided to get her daughter married. That’s no revelation, that’s what girls from Bihar do for sure – get married, and if you are from Mithila – the forgotten land of North Bihar, you do it over 5 days of the actual wedding ceremony!
The mandate from my cousin was very clear, attend with all the family (Kid, wife & mother), and be in early enough to help with the preparations. Well it was very tempting but I opted for a solo trip of three days. This was going to be a big fat Indian wedding as the bride’s parents were well to do with a strong standing in the society. This would reaffirm their ascent to the elite society.
A lot of deliberations and possibilities were explored and discarded. One could take a three day long train journey from Bangalore, get onto the private buses/taxis/trekker etc. Being less adventuresome, my plan was to reach Patna by air, take a train that takes you to the destination Saharsa – a small town (about 50 Km from the Nepal border). Seemed the most convenient route was:
Land at Patna at 1230 Hrs, reach the railway station after a lunch stop on the way to comfortably board the train – Koshi Express that departs Patna at 1655 to reach Saharsa at 2215, in time for a hot dinner and kick off the extreme gastronomic indulgence.
It all went as per plan till I reached the Patna station and boarded the train, aptly guided by the giant electronic display directing me to the platform number 8; barring the minor oversights like no signs on the foot over bridge and the missing number on the platform as well. Luckily I was counting and I reached the train and my designated reserved seat in the AC chair car by the window – chosen via internet booking a week earlier. The coach resembled the looks of the platform; very clearly confirming the democracy so richly treasured in this part of the world – no discrimination in terms of class, status or kind of ticket you hold.
It is also important to understand that this was the marriage season and that too one which had come after a long lull of auspicious dates. During these times you begin to wonder about the probability that every person in the world will be at a place different from the location where the most important family marriage will be solemnized. As the train moved I realized that the coach was full to capacity. There are about 75 seats in the coach, arranged by an aisle with 3 seats in one side and 2 on the other. The person at the window on the side with three seats (like myself) were slightly better off because both the seats adjacent to the aisle had two passengers each and in a space-constraints-defying -miracle, they could even claim some bit of the seat next to them though railways had clearly tried to put partitions between the seats!
The aisle was another miracle street- two passengers standing adjacent right through the length of the coach and few even propped up on the top of the seats back rests. There were few oversized bags that created vital lung space, especially where a kid or two didn’t find it convenient to park themselves. Another miracle to experience was the hawkers’ maneuver in the aisles with everything from newspapers and magazine to “jhalmuri” (puffed rice snack, bhel equivalent of the east), boiled eggs, cucumber, roasted peanuts in the pod, fresh tea-coffee kept warm with the kerosene stove attached to the kettle and modern snacks like chips, biscuits and chocolates, right where you thought another person wouldn’t fit in. The art of balancing the oversized baskets, secured tightly to their chests with most innovative ties is a lesson in dynamics.
The train started on time and I was suitably impressed. There was news of a train being fed to arson by the Maoists not very far from this place. The fact that the activists had apologized the very next day for their deed saying “we regret the action as it adversely affected the very people they are fighting for” – surely meant that they would not commit the same error the next day, right? Well, one can’t really plan for such things and such decisions should be made before embarking rather than letting it shadow this wonderful ride. It’s only when one steps out of their shielded protected backyard that the reality and seriousness of these threats dawn on you.
As the train chugged along, the activities in the coach began to heighten. Some seasoned travelers were more prepared and quickly unpacked their bag of goodies. The coach quickly started smelling of the freshly cooked savories. I smelled the ubiquitous mango and stuffed mirchi pickles. The aromas of common spices like roasted cumin seeds, asafoetida, fresh coriander, garlic and so many subtle ones created due to the infusion of the spices and the preparations. The fresh earth smell of wheat flour mingled well with all the accompaniments. One would certainly want to drop inhibitions and beg for a bite or two, but I could not get around to doing that.
I comfortably retired into listening to my music with the ear phones cutting out the ambient sound progressively marching towards new crescendos in a symphony with the constant clatter of the train on the steel tracks. I barely had the time to drift into the train rides in Bihar I had as a child, when I was suddenly jolted back to reality by sudden brakes and howling wheels. The cry in the coach was “the train has caught fire!” It was rather confusing as the sentiments of the news seemed more sedated than desperate. Quickly the severity of the situation was realized as an overpowering burning smell began to engulf the milder smells and flavors I spoke about.
The first reaction was of course panic. Being cloistered in a steel cabin with no visible way to come out would surely not make anyone wait to be toast before screaming for help. Keep in mind that we are talking about a coach packed to the brim and any sane mind would take less than a moment to realize that there is no way out. But one can really not expect the common mind to be sane, can we? It was pandemonium. Suddenly the coach seemed to be fuller than what it appeared the previous moment. People were trying to climb on each other and the coach became a gravity defying spacecraft cabin. It seemed that everybody had a prayer on their lips and a resolve to reach that fast disappearing gap in the door.
It was rather strange how I took in this whole experience. It took me a moment longer than others to understand the impending peril. This would be my grand curtains! The natural reaction – run for your life! came first and I tried lunging to the door. Then it dawned that I could salvage some of my belongings. I was somewhere in the middle of the compartment. The realization that I had no chance of making it to any of the doors came next. I’m not the kind who would give up so easily, neither I am of the sort who believes that there is a God designed for such predicaments. I amazed myself by thinking about the emergency exit – possibly due to the experience of nearly a million air miles and the multiple security drills and announcements I have been involuntarily subjected to.
Of course no one else was interested in that innocuous sign on either side of the coach clearly marking out the emergency window exit. I sighed with cautious relief, what’s the chance that the window might not be designed to break easily? Anyway, I never had to test that as sanity returned to the coach as quickly as the pandemonium had erupted. The alarm was false and there was no need to evacuate. There were some mixed cries of relief and life returned to the usual excitement in the coach. Some analysis – a standard approach to any minor or major event, directly or indirectly impacting their lives, followed the event and the reaction to it. Anyways, I thought that probabilities were clearly stacked against any such event happening again in this journey. I returned to my own reflection and soothing the nerves with some water and switching to easy music on the music player.
The next break in my peace was an animated discussion, actually more of an argument. I gathered it was about the current state of governance in the state. For the lesser initiated, it might help to know that Bihar saw a change in the power equation as the decade old government lost to a newer local party and there have been some marked changes (improvements) in the state of affairs. But then you still have some very devoted old faithfuls. The famous Indian democracy got free play here and quickly the two parties seemed to have run out of points to debate and got to the free-for-all fist fight. Like a possessed ninja warrior, one of the guys lunged into the air and delivered a couple of humiliating slaps on the other guy! What ensued was hour long mediation on the part of the other debate participants. Somewhere near the arrival time, the conflict was resolved and I started to wonder about the arrangements for me to get to the marriage venue from the station.
The main streets of Bihar can be intimidating for even the locals. The lack of regular electricity supply means that the street lights are not functional. It is most advisable not to venture out on one’s own. I asked the ticket collector the expected time of arrival. “The train is about an hour late” he said and I informed my hosts accordingly. One of the utilities that has been able to defy the general state of affairs is telecom. You can get uninterrupted cellular network coverage right through the state. 11:15 would still not be too bad to reach, I thought to myself. That meant I had about half-an-hour to organize myself and be ready to disembark. With the tinted glasses and virtually no light anywhere in sight, it just meant that I had to wait for the train to arrive at the destination. After countless stops and starts and false alarms of arrival, the train finally came to Saharsa station. It was 11:45 PM, so I technically did make it to my destination the same day!
My hosts had a reception committee awaiting me at the platform. For the first time since the evening, I actually felt at ease. I will spare the details of the stay at the wedding – another prime candidate for a blog sometime!
While this trip did leave a lasting memory for me, I drifted a few times thinking of the countless commuters who do this journey many times over. Then, is it not true that it takes an outsider to appreciate the nuances. My return ticket was booked on the same train but I had a resolve – till the current memory is overwhelmed by a more exciting one, I am not stepping into a Bihar train in a hurry…
Pratima & Randhir's blog 