Adventure on the Jammu tavi...

The train is spluttering to a stop at Vijayawada station, platform number 7. A full half an hour behind schedule. My head spins endlessly and I can’t see straight. The adventure began in Trivandrum when I arrived at the railway station not to find an ATM in sight. The only evidence of a SBI ATM that remained was the name board. I had around 80 bucks in cash for a 3 day journey. I did not have even toothpaste, talk about meticulous planning! It did not occur to me at the time that I would have to pay for things to eat along the way.

A group of Army jawans(soldiers) were my immediate travel companions. So I got a free unasked crash course on Indian army politics and some amazing revelations that will have to come out in print one day. The second day the hunger hit me, even though I was lying in my bunk most of the day dreaming of snow and sublime yoga poses. One of the jawans matter of factly took out an orderly sheaf of papers containing the train time table that he had printed out. The train would stop at Vijayawada for 25 minutes, according to the printed word. But now that it was already running more than half an hour late, would it still follow the time table?

I would have to leave my luggage behind, go up and down the over bridge and cross all those platforms to the exit at platform no.1. I slowly ascended the steps with the calm steely exterior of a Zen monk but with the palpitations of a lovelorn teenager. After coming out of the station I found 2 ATMs. After swiping the card in the 1^st one for 4 expletive filled tries, I moved to the second one. Ah finally the sweet sound of the machine dispensing cash!

I sprint over supine bodies, cows, luggage and other unidentified objects to the entrance. Near the entrance I slow my pace down and casually walk in. I don’t want to be stopped by the police on ‘suspicious’ circumstances. Mangled uncombed hair and beard stubble makes me definitely look shady.

I break out into a run once out of sight of security and every time a train sounds a horn somewhere I imagine my train pulling out of the station. Finally as I dash down the steps to the platform a guy coming up casually says: ‘The train’s pulling out, go fast yaar’. Shit, shit shit, why now at the final stretch?! Before I know it I am on the platform, by the train. The ‘stranger’ bastard had lied to me. The train was still there. I catch my breath and with the snug feeling that only money can evoke, go to buy a vegetable biriyani.