The next day spent in the train was unarguably the most
comfortable in the whole trip. We toggled between the two coaches and most of
the time was spent in planning and mapping the expedition and in calculating
the top speed of the train. It was always a mystery and something that I always
wanted to know from my childhood days. Now, I had the technology to do so and that
is the built in GPS in my mobile and after spending initially around 10-15
minutes to lock-in onto the satellite, tracking the train even at its top speed
of 112km/hr was a breeze. Even after spending time in all kind of activities,
train travel leaves a lot of time to be filled in and when you have a lot of
time to do nothing but see things pass by, you start thinking of the life gone
by. And when you spend quality time with no one but yourself then you really
get to know yourself.
Interestingly at our original RAC berth, the young claimant
of our yesterday’s tripartite division of lower berth never came down to
proclaim his property. And, whenever we toggled back to the RAC berth and in
case if we found him sitting there he would politely leave the lower berth and
move up to the upper berth. Even when told to comfortably sit in lower berth. However,
more perplexing was when during our discussion over itinerary we needed a pen
and I looked up to the upper berth and asked him if he had a pen. He had a
disappointing look at his face, he looked around for the pen which mostly
wasn’t there and he searched for some 5 minutes trying each and every nook and
corner. I was about to peek up to the upper berth to say ”That it’s ok”. But
then he was actually coming down, I guess the pen search was already abandoned
and probably the nature’s call had taken more priority. But then he started
looking below the berth probably for the sleepers but surprised that he was
pulling out his luggage and then suddenly popped two pens. I was surprised at
the length of effort he put in to give us the pen and more interestingly the
overnight change in the attitude towards us.
At dawn, Kolkata was still wrapped in a blanket of fog as if
though shielding itself from the pinching cold. But the sun rays had their own
wish to pierce and puncture the fog and wake up the old slumbering city, which
once in its golden days was at the center of everything. Slowly but surely we
were moving towards our final destination, Howrah. Although late, we reached the Howrah station
at around 7.45 a.m. It was time to come out of the cocoon and step into the
unplanned world.
The first task was to answer the morning call which started
the hunt for the upper class waiting hall. It was like waiting hall just wanted
to be left undiscovered. The initial direction arrow heads led our footsteps to
a neat and clean grand reception, well all my instincts and guts were saying it
can’t be the waiting hall but you never know miracles do happen in Indian
railway stations if the railway minister also happens to be state chief
minister. So, with hesitation I asked the person at reception “Is this the
upper class waiting hall?” The answer was quick to bring me back to reality
“No, it’s a restaurant cum hotel. Go back and take the left for waiting
hall.” While retracing the steps
backward first left had a narrow
staircase winding upwards with people queuing up on it, which looked like a
reservation counter queue and next left on the passage way was straight away
taking us out to the taxi stand.
We followed the winding staircase already narrowed with the
queue of the people, there was no sign of the waiting hall at the first floor,
we asked a guy who appeared to be someone working there and the answer was to
follow a narrow passage way with the rusty old closed windows and the cobwebs
adding to its vintage ancient look. And finally we arrived at the upper class
waiting hall a dilapidated room with some old benches lying around, to an
uninitiated traveler the naming convention in India can be misleading wondering
if it was named so because it’s in the upper floor or probably to keep the
general public at distance.
After the morning business done to satisfaction, it was time
to book tickets to our next destination Siliguri. And you come face to face
with the Marxist state. We wanted to
start moving towards our destination as soon as possible and the possible ways
to either take the train or the bus. The next train was in afternoon at around
2.00 p.m. So the best shot was to take the bus and we headed outside the
railway station and you get the first glimpse of Kolkata still slowly peaking
through the fog cover trying to get started in the cold morning, a cold breeze
from the Hooghly river touches your face. And after getting the clue of the bus
station from the taxi driver, we headed towards the Hooghly bridge, the old
steel bridge still standing tall, keeping the legacy of the British still
alive.
The task was simple go to the other side of the road and
catch a bus going towards the other end of the bridge and most probably it
would be going to the bus stand. There
were only night buses for Siliguri and the other option was to hope on local
buses and get to the destination but people advised against it given the
condition of the state buses it was well justified, we would reached Siliguri
but it would have left us with an aching body crying for rest instead of
sightseeing. So , after our breakfast at a road side food joint at the bus
stand, we headed back to the railway station to do our reservation.
There are number of main entrance to the Howrah station and
every entrance appeared to have a booking counter and when approached the
answer was to go to the next building. And you really get to know the real
meaning of pillar to post. After asking at each of the counter we reached the
last building and the answer was go to the next building in front. Well, It was
time to repeat the cycle again but before we do that the situation demanded a
root cause analysis and it appeared that instead of asking for the tickets in
the specific train, we would ask for the ticket to Siliguri. As, we were
looking for the unreserved tickets and not for reservation, bingo! We got into
next reservation counter long queue and we had our tickets to Siliguri.
It was time to go for a little sightseeing in the Marxist
state capital. And we looked for a cloak room to keep our luggage. And we did
found one with a long queue, processing one passenger at a time with the easy
go attitude. After keeping the luggage it was time to head towards Kalighat,
now that was my friends choice as he had already been and seen Kolkata.
The railway bus stand was like a chaotic maze with the buses
coming in and then displaying themselves on a semi circular ramp, the
interested customers trying to catch a glimpse of its nameplate and jumping
into it. For amateur customers like us navigating the maze required guidance
from the experienced customers or taking a direct approach of asking the driver
or conductor. Ultimately, after numerous
trade dialogs we got our bus to Kalighat a rickety bus made of wood, when you
walk over it each and every wooden piece creaking to say go slow or you will
break me. And you wonder why this bus is still operational, when it could have
easily made into a prized possession of an antique collector.
After a bumpy ride
in the rickety wooden bus we reached our destination Kalighat. Now, I don’t classify myself as a believer
nor a skeptic. I like to maintain the status quo between the two sides and that
some people would call as being agnostic. But I don’t mind accompanying the
believers. However, Kalighat is famous for more than one thing and when you get
to the street that leads to the Kali temple, you would see the materialism and
spiritualism side by side. On one side of the street you would see all the shops
selling all the materials for the puja and everything that leads you to the
spirituality and on the other side of the street you would see vividly painted
girls demonstrating themselves to catch your attention and get a customer.
At first glimpse it may appear as two side locked in a
war. But then you wonder why should
these girls choose this place for their business. It would require extra effort
here to get a customer then in a place anywhere else. And when you look a little deeper into the
past and then you start thinking if these girls trace the roots back to the
ancient devdasis, who initially were to please the gods but actually pleased
the servants. And then you also wonder with Kali comes tantra naturally and if
they helped the ascetics to satisfy their carnal desires to reach nirvana.
After all nirvana is a state where you don’t have any more desires and how can
you reach there if you haven’t satisfied all your aspirations.
And when you get near the temple you don’t get any glimpse
of any spirtuality but you come face to face the materlistic way of the
so-called brahmins readily packaged spiritual tour. Courting you all the time
trying to guide you and choose all the items for the tour, but today they
caught the wrong guy and after dodging all the touts we just went around the
temple, that was enough to rub the spiritualism on our souls.
After the lunch, it was time to head towards the station at
around 1.00 p.m. By the time we reached the station it was 1.30 p.m. And
after buying the India travel guide it
was time to get our luggage from the cloak room and catch our train which was
about to arrive at the platform around 1.55 p.m. And when we reached the Cloak room came the
shocker there was a long queue at the cloak room window, we thought it was the
queue for keeping the luggage and then we went in directly through the door in
a hurry to collect the luggage. And were sternly told that we need to get into
the queue and wait for our turn to collect our luggage and that punctured the
balloon of our hopes. Looking at the queue there was no way to catch our train
to Siliguri as it was already around 1.45 p.m.
And a closer look at the queue showed some familiar faces, the young
claimant of our lower berth was in the middle of the line and then passengers
from my upper berth were at the end of the queue. There was a struggle to make the decision whether
to get at the end of the queue or to start pleading or bribe the person at the
core of the business doling out the luggage. But his stern words had not left
any room of going back into the cloak room. And when you don’t have any option
left you generally approach the familiar faces for help and the most likely
choice was the young claimant inching closer to the head of the queue. We
approached him smiliing ”Hey long queue.” And waited along
side him to make it look natural for others as if though that we are all
together, and after some struggle with the mind the request popped out “Hey can
you get our luggage as well. We need to catch our train in next 10 minutes.” There was hesitation and after some time he
took our reciept. There was now hope but
then he said that if the counter guy accepts only one receipt then he is going
to give his first and the ray of hope that had come suddenly disappeared with
the same speed. As we approached the counter along with him, he said ”You can
come in to the queue and stand in front of me. ” Our only apprehension was that
the people in the back of the queue should not shout at us. Stepping in and out
of the queue, we tried to convince everyone that we are in line. No one shouted
and we reached the counter gave our receipt and quickly ran in to collect our
luggage. Gave big thank to our young claimant and started running towards the
platform where the train had already arrived it was around 2.10 p.m and the
scheduled departure was at 2.15 p.m.
Tip1:
When arriving at your destination in the morning after an overnight journey. If
you are a budget traveler look for a good restaurant for breakfast and you
would be treating yourself to good food and a clean toilet. Public toilets in
India are mostly very filthy and dirty.
