Thirty two hours. That's how long I've been sitting on this metal beast, and I swear, the next time I attempt a solo, long-haul train journey, i will carry a company of atleast three. I'm currently done in the aroma of stale air, perched like a nervous pigeon on the Upper Side Berth.
My mission to conquer a web series? A total failure. Seriously, watching one entire season is an actual achievement, and I gaveup halfway. The boredom was so potent I started trying to socialize which, for me, is like attempting to land a plane in a hurricane. Still I attempted this time.
...........
I struck gold right below my berth today a guy casually mentioning he’s a pilot in the Air Force. Just like that. He talked about performing in the Air Show as if it was some neighborhood event. The man listed stunts the way we list grocery items.
Right beside him sat another character: a fellow with a bright red tilak, a heavy moustache, and that furious “don’t-mess-with-me” look. His army-green bags were stacked near his feet. In a deep, commanding voice, he said he was in the Navy, heading back to his city.The whole scene felt like I’d accidentally boarded a defence-forces conference on wheels.
And then, in the adjacent compartment, there was her in pink-flowered salwar kameez, black sweater resting on her shoulders, a glossy pink hairpin holding a reverse ponytail. She was playing with a one-year-old baby (really hoping that baby isn’t hers 😅), laughing and chatting with her family, completely unaware that she had become the highlight of my journey.
Meanwhile, I sat in my seat, admiring the her beuty and the scenery and typing all this nonsense while she unknowingly turned into the most distracting chapter of my train ride. Pretty doesn’t even begin to cover her.
And then it happened - our eyes met.
Instant doom.
I snapped my gaze away so fast even my inner voice started screaming, “Mat kar lala, mat kar!” Because if I held eye contact any longer, her family might just look at me and go full “behenshod, yeh kya dekh raha hai?”
Self-preservation mode: activated.
I retreated back into my shell, and thirty minutes later, my social battery was completely fried.
.......
Finally, a stop! Bhubaneswar! I got off the train for some glorious, un-recycled fresh air. As I was walking two coaches back (in search of the sacred train snack, biscuits and bananas), I had a glimpse that my phone was still on my seat, charging. How silly am I
Just as I grabbed my bananas, I noticed a whole family near me: a very well-dressed, slightly formidable Auntie, her husband holding a 2-3 year old baby, and a 5-6 year old son holding his other hand.
I bought half dozen of bananas and a packet of amul taaza for my oats.
And then, the train whistled, jolted, and started moving.
Auntie let out a primal scream that cut through the station noise: "Train start aindi! Padandi!"
I saw them struggling, running alongside the Sleeper coach door. I couldn't just watch. In that split second, I wondered, Why did the whole family decide to debark for a casual stroll? But there was no time for judgment.
This was the moment all those punishing gym reps earned their keep. I grabbed the Auntie and hoisted her up into the door. Then her son. The Uncle scrambled in after them. Adrenaline was pumping.
The Uncle, panting, was profusely thanking me. I wanted to look him dead in the eye and dramatically say to them, "Choti bacchi ho kya?" to the whole panic-stricken crew.
I wisely held my tongue, settling for a stern, "Just be careful, why did everyone get down?" before walking back toward my coach, feeling simultaneously heroic and exhausted.
My Air Force friend was waiting, looking genuinely worried. "Yemindi ra babu, intha late yenduku?"
I gave him the entire, breathless play-by-play. The boarding struggle, the screaming Auntie, the banana purchase he whole mess.
And there it was. My dear, patient phone. Sitting right where I left it, waiting for my sweaty, victorious hand to unlock its glowing screen.
The moral of the story: long train journeys are tough, but they're guaranteed to give you at least one good story.
