Day Two: The Stretch to Durgapur

The first sunrise on wheels was welcomed by various conversations. Mr. Sharma, the pantry guy, was patiently taking food orders from everyone. I wanted to stay comfortable during the sloppy, sullied, and long train journey so I ordered a light breakfast. A visit to the pantry car a little later in the day was a delightful shock. The catering on this appalling train belonged to a company called “Meals on Wheels.” It was a happier disposition in a moment of distress.

The train reached New Jalpaiguri station and I found some breathing space at an open door. From here, I could listen to the sound of the wheels mixing with the sounds of life outside. As the evening rolled in, a few mysterious and irksome boys barged in and stole the luggage of a college girl. She and other passengers didn’t realize it until the train had left the station. Her berth was now empty and she had lost everything.

Stations flew by—Mariani Junction, Diphu, Kokrajhar, Alipur. At 11:11 p.m. when the train halted at Kishanganj, I still hadn’t reached a deep sleep and wore a frown on my face. I looked through the window and a spotted a stray dog in a seemingly thoughtful mood. He was seated under a bench with a wrapper in his mouth. I smiled as we stared at each other until I noticed a guy sitting on a pile of suitcases. He was looking at me amazed by the silent conversations happening between me and the dog.

On the platform, Coolies, as we fondly called the load-carrying men at the stations, were carrying heavy luggage on their heads and shoulders. They ran from one end of the platform to the other, hopping over people sleeping on the floor, concealed by morning newspapers. The kids on the platform were very much awake, filled with energy and jumping on luggage. Despite the antics, the spectacle at every station was perhaps the same. Some were better lit than others, but the scene was always the same. Different stations and different timing, but always the same story.

A few hours later, the train reached Durgapur. Mr. Sharma scribbled down my breakfast order on a tiny notepad which had aged over time like a fossil. The unimpressive chai with its dull brown color was the thing to wake me up. Yet another morning aboard the Vivek. 

Day One | Day Three