15th August 2013
This was the day that I had been
looking forward to for a month. It was the day when I would finally get to go
home after spending two months in college; the longest span of time I have ever
spent away from home! I spent the whole night tossing and turning, waiting for
dawn to come, dozing in and out of consciousness. At 4:45 I awoke to the sound
of my alarm clock ringing. Jolting upright I quickly got dressed and made sure
that I had everything that I needed, especially the ticket. My roommate had
promised to drop me; we left hostel around 5:30 so that we could catch an auto
in time. The Cantonment railway station is nearby, but given that I had luggage
I decided not to walk it. Luckily we got an auto quite fast, so I reached the
station well in advance of my train’s arrival.
My train was to arrive at
Cantonment station at 6:32 am and depart at 6:34 am; I had precisely two
minutes to find my compartment and get on to the train before getting left
behind. Arriving 45 minutes early I decided to wait in the waiting room. I
waited and waited, listening to the people around me, chatter amongst
themselves. I caught snippets of their conversation, about a local train which
had just passed by, and that the next train to arrive would be the one to
Chennai. Looking down at my watch I realized that it was 6:25; I walked towards
the platform and located where my compartment was to arrive. Looking around I
watched as the train entered the station. Nervous about missing the train, for
it stopped for only two minutes, I clambered into it as soon as it stopped. I
noticed that the train wasn’t chair car, quite unlikely for a Bangalore-Chennai
train, but I dismissed the thought as I shuffled along to put my bag in place,
before anyone else did. I watched as an old lady and her husband climbed onto
the train, listening to their conversation. From what I heard, their seats were
number 82 and 83. But how in the world was that possible? My seat number was
83. I quickly got up and went over to ask them; indeed our seat numbers were clashing.
I considered the chances of the Indian railway system making a grave mistake
like this, but they seemed quite slim. By this point in time the train was
speeding along the countryside. Realization slowly and painfully dawned upon
me, and I asked the old woman the question I had been dreading- “This train
goes to Chennai doesn't it?” to which she replied “Of course not! It goes to Ernakulum!”
I had indeed gotten onto the wrong train!
As the realization sunk in I felt
panic steadily rise inside me. I looked around for the chain but there wasn’t
one. Slowly and quickly the entire
compartment came to know of my misfortune! Looking at my panic stricken face
the people around me tried to help me. Some suggested that I get off at the
next stop, (whichever that might be) while others told me to purchase a ticket
and travel all the way to Coimbatore and then catch a train back! Some simply
shook their heads with disbelief; I would too I were in their place! How had I
managed to land myself in such a situation; one that occurs only in movies,
that to for the sake of entertainment! Talking to my mother on the phone, she
laughed with disbelief! I wouldn’t blame her! She told me to get off at the
next stop, so that I could find my way back to the city. Now all I could do was
pray; pray that this train would miraculously stop. And stop it did, at Byappanahalli!
I clambered out of the train,
down the platform and onto a smooth tar road in the middle of nowhere. Sure, I
knew I was in Byappanahalli but where exactly this place is situated with
respect to Bangalore I had no idea! 6:41 am. I looked around and realized that
I had two options. Either I could catch an auto to Carmelaram, where my train
to Chennai was supposed to arrive in exactly 6 minutes (according to my mother-
she checked it online), or I could somehow catch a bus/ auto and travel back
into the city to my local guardian’s house which is in Belandur. You see,
coincidentally my local guardians were travelling to Chennai on the very same
day; leaving at around 8:30 that morning. So I decided to ditch my train (since
the possibility of getting an auto and reaching the next station in 6 minutes
flat was frankly quite unlikely) and find a way to get to my guardian’s house.
Right on cue, a bus drove down the road. I flagged it down, and asked the
driver where it was going, to which he replied “Shivajinagar”. Even though this wasn't exactly where I needed to go, Shivajinagar is a huge bus hub; I could
easily catch a bus to Belandur from there! Getting on to the bus, the driver
gazed with an amused grin at my suitcase; I smiled back, sheepishly. Conversing
in broken Tamil, I somehow managed to tell him that I needed to go to Belandur.
The helpful man that he was, he stopped the bus after a few kilometers and told
me to get off and catch the MA 137 (or something like that, I don’t really
remember all the minute details now, however memorable the experience was!) to
Silk Board.
I stood, staring at the road
ahead of me, wondering where in the world the bus stop was! Intuition made me
cross the road, and right then the bus I needed to catch came bustling down the
road. I couldn't believe my luck! But wait, if I had good luck I would be on
the train to Chennai right now. Never mind, my second bus ride was quite
uneventful but somewhat calming. I realized that I was actually enjoying
myself, however unlikely that might sound! Come to think of it the only time I
panicked was at that instant when I realized that I was on the wrong train. Getting
off the train I gained composure, because though I was in the middle of nowhere
I could still find my way back; it was better than being in a completely
different city! And Bangalore obtained a certain charm at this point in time of
the day; when people haven’t started their busy schedules and the streets are
still quite empty (a sight that is a treat to see in Bangalore)! Looking
outside the bus window I watched the as we passed through a flower market,
followed by a fruits and vegetables one. The vibrant colours, sweet smells and
the cool breeze that veiled my face made it an eventful but perfect morning. On
the way, a woman got on to the bus and sat beside me. When she asked me what
happened, her hand gesturing towards my suitcase, I could do nothing but smile
and say, “It’s a long story”. I soon found out that we were headed in the same
direction and together we got off and caught another bus to Belandur.
In less than ten minutes I
reached my local guardian’s house, waving at my bus friend who continued on the
bus. I couldn't believe that I had travelled all around Bangalore, and after
one train ride and three bus rides I still had not reached home! That would
entail one more mode of transportation, a car. To think that I had been afraid
of travelling by bus in this new city, I now realize that it had been quite
stupid of me to think so. Coincidentally, it was Independence Day; I truly
learnt the meaning of the word independence on that day!
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