Wednesday, August 2, 2023

The train to Irinjaalakkuda


 "Executive" leaves the Kozhikode railway station at 6.40 am. When I left home, it was 6.27. I am notorious for not carrying cash with me. Since I am traveling alone today, just before leaving, I ensured that I had taken 200 rupees from the box in which we keep aside the money to pay for the water cans. I was almost sure that I wouldn’t reach the railway station on time. But, time was not a key factor today. I was prepared to take a bus to Trichur and from there to Irinjalakkuda if I missed the train. At the same time, I didn’t want to take Premith’s efforts for granted. He had booked my to and fro tickets on Tatkal yesterday so that I could travel comfortably. So, I decided to give it a try with the train. I managed to get a rikshaw from infront of the beach. The rikshaw driver helped me reach the station at 6.39.  The meter showed 58 bucks. I paid him 100 bucks and there was no time to take the change. I thanked the auto rikshaw driver and told him to keep the change. I almost jumped out of the rikshaw and rushed into the platform. When I entered the platfom, the train was ready to depart. I didn’t have the time to check the coach position. So, I got into the train through the first open door which I happened to see. The seats were filled and there were some passengers standing too. 

Most of the passengers appeared to be working people traveling on season tickets. There were law students preparing for their exams and I could hear them reading out and discussing some definitions of privacy in Malayalam. I am a general compartment person & I prefer sitting in those airy compartments with open windows. But at the same time, I recently realised that I have now developed an enochlophobia. I just can't go to crowded places. Crowded malls & restaurants are where I find it the most difficult to be in. I was ok to travel without a seat until Irinjalakkuda. But, today being a working day, I was worried about the season ticket holders who might crowd the compartment.

I thought it was better to find my reserved seat. I opened the app which Dhanya had asked me to install on my mobile phone. Ixigo. And tried to spot the coach position of the chair car. Sigh! It reminded me that I am growing old. My eyes could not decipher the small images & texts. It is time to switch to progressive lens, but I have been postponing it.

I checked with a fellow passenger who appeared to be a regular passenger in the train and got an idea that the compartment could be in the front.

I got down at Feroke and started walking on the platform looking for the chair car. But, I couldn't find the car. The train stops hardly for a minute at Feroke and when I heard the siren go off, I got into the train again through the nearest door.


This time, it was a relatively less crowded compartment and I decided to sit in that compartment which had a friendly vibe. Most of the passengers inside appeared to be season ticket holders here as well. They travelled with just an office bag. 

I didn’t feel like moving out of that compartment. What if the guy who told me about the chair car was wrong and the chair car was in the back? What if I get into another compartment and I find it really crowded? Why should I leave this compartment where people were friendly and cooperative? I felt a bit lethargic and in a comfort zone.

Parappanagadi, Tanur, Tirur - I could see stations passing by.

I missed Premith. He wanted me to travel comfortably and had booked my tickets. I felt sorry for him.   

So, what if I don’t find the seat, give it a try at least. What are you scared off? Get into the smarter and confident version of you. Someone told me from within. 

I just got up and started walking towards the front. Everytime I passed through the gangways and over the  metallic couplings that connected the compartments, it felt like I know the in and out of trains. It built a feeling of intimacy with the train.    

“Paalam pori Palaam pori.. “. A Hindi speaking man was selling banana fritters. I am not good at Hindi, like many Keralites of my generation. Thanks to Seetha, the cook we had in Bangalore. She had helped me get rid of my inhibition to speak in Hindi.

"Bhayya, yeh ac compartment, kis taraf hein? Aapko maaloom hein kya?" I gained some confidence and asked him in my broken Hindi. "Or aagey jaana hein". He told me. I kept moving towards the front.

After passing by two more compartments, I saw a TTE and asked him about the chair car once again.  He confirmed me that the chair car is just more two compartments ahead.

It felt like a win when I found the compartment. I had overcome my lethargy. The vibe inside was totally different. A lady was walking through the pathway in a purple coloured silk saree and she was followed by a formally dressed man who looked slightly older than her. I waited until they passed. 

My seat, seat number 8 was occupied. The man who was sitting there had dozed off. I checked with the man in the adjacent seat whether this compartment is C1. He said with a smiling face that it is. Hearing me speak, the man sitting in my seat woke up and I asked him whether it is his seat. He said no and if it is my seat, I can take it.

He moved out and I thanked him and occupied my seat.

I was a bit hungry. These days, my body keeps reminding me that I am growing old. I get a migraine if I don’t sleep well. I also get a migraine if I don’t have food on time.

I hadn’t taken my breakfast. I was only left with 100 Rs in my purse. I wasn't sure whether the vendors who sell food would accept the payment via google pay. I was a bit hesitant to ask them about google pay or to ask them upfront how much does the bread and omelette would cost. One of the reasons was that I was not fully sure whether I will be able to make that conversation in Hindi if at all these vendors are Hindi speaking. But, then again, I pushed myself and bought a bread and omelette and had it. It only costed me Rs.50 and I was left with another Rs.50 as cash until I got down. That was a relief again. 

When I went out to discard the empty breakfast box in the bin, I noticed that the space near the door which is usually occupied was free. The view to the outside was refreshing. I stood near the door for a while, captured a short video and posted it on my Instagram feed. 




I came back and sat on my seat. I read the story “a small, good thing” from the book cathedral, which a  friend had sent me sometime back. 

The man sitting beside me was getting calls frequently on his mobile phone. He was talking about construction. I assumed that he is either an engineer or a business man who is into construction business.The civil engineer in me wanted to have a conversation with him.

The train had stopped at a station. From the tinted glass, I somehow sensed or made a guess that we were in Shornur. I was in a mood to make a conversation with the man sitting next to me. I asked him whether the station we are in is Shornur. I also asked him where he is getting down. I used “sir” to address him. I don’t know why I do that. But I got it from my mom. I have been trying to change that habit, but it is not happening.

Anyhow, the man didn’t really like me conversing with him. Probably, he is like my spouse & hates talking to people. Or may be he just didn't like me. Unlike earlier, there was no smile on his face and he was visibly unhappy about me talking to him this time. 

I didn’t want to bother him again. I opened the ixigo app on my mobile phone and checked the running status of the train on it. It seemed like a user friendly mobile app. I was right. We were in Shornur. I missed the friendly general compartment.

When I got down at Irinjalakkuda, Dhanya was waiting for me there with a smile. It was worth taking a day off from work to travel all the way to meet her & spend a day with her and her parents. But, I regretted not sticking on to the seat I found in the not so crowded general compartment.




Journal of a directional dyslexic

Within a couple of days of me receiving my new job offer, my manager told me about an offline event in Spain. The job was supposed to be a f...