**NOTE: I am posting a Trip report in this Forum after a really long time. So, please do spend some valuable time and read it, your feedback is most appreciated :)**

At some point in life, one would come across a blatant denial; it is right to your face sometimes. The reason for that would be unclear at that moment, to understand that it was for the greater good would take a certain degree of maturity. Now, if one really were that mature, the argument/debate would not have reached the Boiling point,...
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would it? A casual conversation between Amma and myself, brought me to write this trip report, a recollection of a decade old drama; a set of incidents that I would never forget, this trip culminated in me getting my first ever cell phone. Amma & I had a good laugh while talking about the trip. Thankfully Appa was not within earshot distance, he wasn’t amused then, I am sure he wouldn’t be now either. Read on.

July 2010.

I was awaiting the imminent Semester End Exams. The first year of my 4-year Engineering course was about to conclude; I was contemplating going on a long-distance solo trip. Appa, who was then posted in Chandigarh, had invited me over. With permissions obtained from all quarters; the only ordeal that remained was, the ticket booking. Anyone who has planned a train Journey in the holiday season would know the pains involved in just planning a trip in that period; let alone book confirmed tickets in short notice. My saviour came in the form of the then newly introduced 2269/2270 Chennai – H. Nizamuddin Duronto Express. It was one of the first Duronto Express trains to be started. Back then, these were (in)famous for not having any commercial halts between source & destination.

Armed with just a copy each of South Zone TT & a Trains at Glance; I used to wonder, “All intermediate stations are marked as no halt, how will they drive for such long distances without halting?”. It was around the same time that I learned of terms like ‘Technical Halt’ and ‘Commercial halt’, their meaning and significance. Nearly a year into its introduction, the Duronto was yet to find any takers. I was surprised that it showed availability in hundreds, even a week prior to the Date of Journey. Its contemporaries like the Karnataka Exp, Tamilnadu Exp, Rajdhanis and others; were up to the hilt in WL. In short, there was no way of me going to visit Appa, but for 2269.

With a wide grin, I booked the ticket in the PRS counter close to my house. I was excited to be trying a new class of train. Appa used to visit Patiala often, his bank’s HQ was located there. They were all official trips, and his preferred train was the SBC Rajdhani. Even when he was posted in Hyderabad from 1999 to 2001; he preferred the Rajdhani over the Andhra Pradesh Express, quite simply for its timings. An early morning arrival at NZM, a quick auto ride to Kashmere Gate and a 4-hr bus journey to Patiala – this was his fixed routine; we never got the privilege to board those swanky looking Rajdhani coaches. There was no purpose. His was an official trip, if we got involved, then the expenses would become personal. I yearned for trip in the Rajdhani, for little me, it was a Hi-Fi train.

This trip to Chandigarh somewhat fulfilled that dream. I am blessed that my parents placed enough faith in 19 y/o me to accomplish this near 3000km trip alone. Getting to Chennai was never an issue. There was this tried and tested formula that never failed. 2610 Chennai Express was placed in the platform as early as 05:15-05:30 sometimes. That was the time when the morning arrivals made their way into Bengaluru City. The station ambience was a combination of passengers making their way into the city and vice versa. The Lalbagh Express would leave for Chennai at 06:30 hrs. If one were to arrive sometime before the Lalbagh left, there was a high chance that one could find a good no. of seats in UR coaches of the 2610 to be empty. All passengers headed to the common halts would board Lalbagh and the ones remaining would trot on to pf2/3; wherever the 2610 was placed. This was a formula that had a very high success percentage. Of course, it came at a price, you would reach Chennai 2.5 hrs after the Lalbagh, while sacrificing a similar amount to reach SBC early. But if time wasn’t a concern, then this was a good deal.

I took the first bus from near my house and rushed to SBC. I didn’t leave anything to chance. I reached well before Lalbagh departed. The UR ticket in my hand was purchased the previous day itself. I scouted the Lalbagh Express for any available seats. But of course, all WS were taken, the middle and aisle seats were vacant in some places. I would rather stand in the door for 6 hrs. I quickly went to pf 2. Royapuram’s WAP-4 22783 was in charge. The big white elephant’s entry into Bengaluru was still a few days away. Lalbagh was led by another WAP-4 (whose no. I don’t remember); 06:30 hrs and it departed on time. I had managed to find myself a comfortable WS in the business end, in the 3rd coach from the loco. The speciality of 2610/09 and Lalbagh in those days was that the first two UR coaches were vestibuled non-AC Chaircar coaches, which meant the Pantry guys could come over to sell their wares. Thanks to this arrangement of SBC CDO, Breakfast, Lunch and Chai were sorted.

We departed at 08:00 hrs sharp. The acceleration was as normal as it could be. We had all of 17 halts to dispatch between source and destination; and those were the reasons the ‘Express’, as 2610/09 was fondly addressed in our house, was popular with the masses. Long story short, it was quite the normal journey to Chennai. I had Idly-Vada for breakfast, Cutlets were never to be missed, Lunch was Veg Biryani, and the Chai was always there. I kept tabs regularly, all expenses were to be explained at home. And as usual, I went to the door near Tiruvallur, doorplating for the last 42 kms; watching the locals and the afternoon departures zip by was heavenly. The only downside to traveling in these first few UR coaches was the crowd that greeted you in Chennai. This train went back as 2607 Lalbagh Express and the passengers rarely walked down to the length of the pf, towards the empty coaches at the Signal end of MAS. Once again, I have done this too and even after 10-15 mins of the 2610’s arrival, I have managed a WS in those coaches. Unfortunately, the people rarely seemed to get that; and I literally struggled my way out of the coach, against a charging crowd; as soon as the 2610 came to a halt on pf 3 of Chennai Central.

After a quick gulp of Chai from a nearby stall, I made my way out; took a Local train from Chennai Park and headed to my grandmother’s place in T. Nagar. All my grandparents had this habit, a good habit I would say; they could get ready – bath, baggage, food, and all; at as early as 03:00 hrs for a train departure of say, 06:30 hrs or 07:00 hrs. It rubbed on to my parents as well, who then passed it on to me. I informed my grandmother of the Duronto’s departure time and she was ready.

‘Tiffin ku Idly eduthukariya? Madhyana Sappatuku enna pannatum? Rathriku vandila edavadhu paathukuriya?’ (Shall I make Idly for breakfast? What do want for Lunch? And will you manage the dinner on-board?); her questions bombarded me with the usual dose of love and affection. I assured her that the fare for food was included in the ticket. Despite my assurances, she tried to convince me that the Railway food was usually tasteless and insisted that I take home made food. This time though, I stood my ground. I was going to board a new train and I wanted to see what it had to offer. The following morning, I woke up, finished my bath, bade her goodbye, and walked towards Mambalam R.S. The T. Nagar Market was getting ready for the day. Taking the beach bound local to Chennai Park, I crossed over and entered Chennai Central from the MMC exit. The huge display at waiting area didn’t show any pf no. against my train’s name; so, I walked all the way to signal end of pf 6. Those days, it was my fav spot to spend time in; one could spot all incoming and outgoing actions sitting in one place. The Shatabdi to Mysore and Kovai Exp to Coimbatore made their way out and in a few minutes; my train was shunted into pf 7. I was enraptured by its livery; 18 coaches of Green, mixed with yellow, a few blue and reddish streaks here and there; this was unlike anything I had seen before.

My coach was S4, but I waited till the power of our train was coupled. Erode’s red beast WAP-4 22391 was assigned the duty to haul my 2269 Duronto to H. Nizamuddin. After watching the coupling, I went towards my coach, chained my luggage beneath my seat and settled down. This time too, it was a front facing WS in the business end, and it was a lower berth; S4, 17. 06:40 hrs, we departed right on time. I had travelled from Chennai to Delhi a couple of times prior to this trip; but it all seemed new in this Journey. We passed through the suburbs at Sedate pace, accelerated past the Ennore creek and finally picked up speed near Attipattu. In the meantime, Water Bottles were distributed. Our breakfast was served just as we knocked on the gates of the neighbouring zone. Having opted for Veg, I got bread cutlet with sauce, butter, and jam. A little while later, Chai was also served. Those were the days when I had no clue of what train crossing to expect at what place. With only Table 8A of TAAG as reference, even the smaller nondescript stations were a surprise spotting for me. Each time a train crossed, I watched with the enthusiasm of a kid.

We darted ahead at MPS. The 2269 Duronto was met with surprised looks all along the route. This was not something that could be seen every now and then. We slowly crawled past Nellore and I remember well, the bewildered looks of the people on the platform. The speed show continued all the way to Tenali Jn. As the line to Guntur veered away, we started slowing down. After a painful crawl at about 15 kmph, we reached pf 6 of Vijayawada Jn., well on time. My co-passengers consisted of a Punjabi family of 3 members and a Telugu speaking middle-aged couple. All got down to stretch their legs a bit. The platform was not crowded. There weren’t any people who were going to board or alight. It was a technical halt, I walked up to the loco and back. We left at 12:40 hrs and lunch service began immediately after our departure. I felt like I was being pampered. It was a mixed feeling, I have travelled in Shatabdis prior to that (never a Rajdhani), so up until that point; it was all AC Class travel, food fare included in in the ticket for a non-AC Journey was a first for me.

It was the usual – Roti, Rice, Dal, Curry, Curd, Pickle; the 2269 gulped down miles, I gulped down my food. My only regret was that even Chai was offered only at specified timings, what a pity. About 2.5 hrs of non-stop sprinting later, we looped into Warangal for a halt. It was back to business once we crossed Kazipet Town. I was on the left side door all through till we crossed Wadepally lake, carefully observing the lines that came from Secunderabad via Kazipet Jn. I remembered this spot; Appa had reminded me of his trips on board the SBC Rajdhani and mentioned that there was a spot where it would join the Delhi bound lines from Vijayawada. The freight movement increased once we were past Warangal. The crossings kept coming every now and then, the occasional passenger train and the usual freight; BOXN rakes were dominant in those parts. The brisk run continued onwards till Balharshah. A quick 5 min halt later, we departed. It started to darken soon. Our dinner preferences were confirmed, and service began just before Sewagram.

That curve fascinated me always; I tried to peer through the grill to catch a glimpse of the entire rake negotiating it. Immediately after Dinner, a quick scrutiny of the TAAG told me that Sewagram was a junction of lines coming from Nagpur, Bhusaval and Balharshah. Meanwhile, we slowed down past Ajni, knocking on the gates of the Orange City. It was close to 9, my eyes were droopy, and my co-passengers were already preparing to call it a day. I didn’t get down but decided to observe the station from my seat. All platforms in sight were busy, including pf 1, on which my train was received; so much crowd, but none for my train. As soon as the starter was given, we were on our way, lights off; it was time some much needed rest. But my mind and body refused to get along that day. At every ‘jerk’; I woke up, we were either slowing down at a huge curve (Itarsi); or skipping a big station (Bhopal/Bina); the advantage of having a lower berth was well utilized.

The following morning, I was up by daybreak. We were approaching Jhansi and most of the people in my coach were still asleep. I freshened up quickly and decided to be on the door for some time. The guy on the middle berth was yet to wake up, so sitting upright at the Window wasn’t an option. I got my first decent cup of non-dip Chai on the platform at Jhansi. We left exactly at 6 am. The speedy run began, and the shakes of the coach seemed slightly more than the previous day. It was many years later when I learned about the slightly higher MPS, Hybrid-LHB Coaches, sectional speed etc. Now this territory was completely new to me, I was passing through the Jhansi – Delhi sector in daylight for the first time. Pure bliss, that’s what it was. Gwalior, Agra Cantt., Mathura and all other stations; I was seeing them in daylight for the first time. We had accumulated some delay on the way and reached H. Nizamuddin at around 11:00 hrs.

Here is where things were about to spiral out-of-hand and I hadn’t an ounce of an idea. Wading out through the crowd, I showed my ticket to the Examiner at the exit, carefully avoided all Taxi Drivers, found a ticket window, and asked for a local train ticket to New Delhi. I knew that Delhi had Metros but wasn’t brave enough to go out, explore and try getting from NZM to NDLS by any other mode of transport. I came back in and descended the flight of stairs on to pf 3, where a local was to arrive at 12 noon: from where? No Idea. To Where? No idea. It went to New Delhi station, and that’s all that mattered. From a telephone booth on pf 3, I called both ends, Bengaluru & Chandigarh and let them know of my position. Almost out of the blue, it started raining and amidst the heavy downpour, announcements started ringing that the local that was coming was expected any moment on pf 1, not 3. It was a tense few moments when I rushed to pf 1 through the FOB and reached just in time, only to be shocked at the crowd hanging from the doors of the Local. The rain didn’t seem to bother them. A wave of people got down and I found enough space to haul my luggage and get in; no door for me, not in that rain.

Having reached New Delhi, the continuing rainfall deterred me from exploring the station. My onward train to Chandigarh – 2057 Janshatabdi Express to Una Himachal, was already parked on pf 10, having arrived some time ago from Dehradun. Trouble was just around the corner; I didn’t know as yet, that’s it. What I didn’t do in NZM, I sat down to do at NDLS; finding myself a seat in front of my coach, D5, I started recollecting and jotting down the expenses over the last 30 hrs. Just as I was finishing up, announcements came in, some of delayed trains, and to my horror, one of a cancelled train – my Janshatabdi to Una was cancelled. There was a bridge collapse somewhere near Panipat apparently and thus the JS stood cancelled. I stood there confused; unsure of what to do. I didn’t have any known relatives to spend the night with or know of how to get an accommodation at the Station itself. Scouting the Station for a telephone booth, I finally found one on pf 16; I immediately called up my father and asked for a suggestion on how to proceed further.

The announcements also mentioned that passengers could cancel their tickets in the PRS counters of the station and full refund would be provided, for what joy? I got back Rs. 120 and spent Rs. 150 just getting to the bus stand by Auto. I was fleeced, I knew, but I had to get to Chandigarh asap. So, I didn’t argue. Appa had suggested I board a bus to Chandigarh from Kashmere Gate ISBT. Here too, he strictly cautioned me against boarding Punjab Roadways (PRTC) buses as they tended to go into smaller towns for dropping passengers before reaching the destination and asked me to take bus of Haryana Roadways (HR), which ran point-to-point. He had been doing this for years now; his experience mattered. But in the hurry to board a bus, I saw one coming out of the Bus station with boards reading ‘Chandigarh’ and simply boarded it. It was after purchasing the ticket (Rs. 155); that I realized that it was a PRTC bus. The cleanliness wasn’t all that bad, it was pretty decent. But the bus didn’t seem to go all that fast at all, HR buses were overtaking us every now and then. Even the dhaba we stopped at was one of the shabbiest I had seen. All the while, Appa’s warnings were echoing in my head, and I had no choice but to stay put.

There was a road accident near Ambala, a truck had jumped on to the wide Median. Another collision had happened close by too. This just added to the woes. A kind co-passenger, a Sardarji; gave me his phone to call up my father and let him know of my position. With multiple factors contributing, the delay kept mounting up. The distance from ISBT Kashmere Gate to ISBT Sec. 17, Chandigarh was about 260kms, we covered that in about 8 hrs that day. Appa and Paati (Grandmother/Daadi) had come to pick me up, we took an Auto home, and I just crashed on to the bed, I was so tired. The next few days were spent in exploring a few places in Chandigarh, the beautiful locality called Khuda Ali Sher, a one-day trip to Haridwar and mostly taking relaxing walks around the locality with my grandparents. Quite surprisingly, my Daadi didn’t learn any Punjabi or Hindi but had managed to teach the local Vegetable vendor some Tamizh. I was literally shocked when he said ‘Ammaji, aaj Takkali (Tomato) 1 kilo, 12, le lo, le lo’ using a combination of Tamizh, Hindi and hand signals to convince her; Salutations to her.

Continued…