Taking the Konkan Railway in the Monsoons

(22 jun14)

          In the beginning, a monsoon rail journey meant you had to be prepared for stone-falls blocking the tracks. Which meant you could be more than half a day late if you were travelling from Mumbai to Goa or the other way around.

          Along the tracks, villagers would wave, young parents on scooters would point out the train (and possibly you framed by a window) to their kids. At stations, vendors would get in and tell you the batatawada was freshly made at their house just a couple of minutes ago. Hawkers sold berries plucked from shrubs and trees in the woods alongside and packed in teak or jackfruit leaves. The train would move cautiously, not wanted to make sad headlines in the papers the following day.

          As a regular traveller on the Mumbai-Goa route, I’ve become acquainted with the staff that sells food. A senior member of the catering service told me he used to be on the Rajdhani when he was young. He told me someone told him that people thought it was like travelling by air, so posh was its interior. Whether or not that was true, I can vouch that customer service in general is better on these trains than on most flights.

          In the air, if I feel cold, I seldom get a blanket. Hence I have to carry with me a shawl. In the train, even on day journeys, passengers are provided with sheets (in the second class, on extra payment) and blankets (if in an air-conditioned compartment).

          To go by train, I need to reach in time. I don’t have to go an hour and a half early and then sit around watching others read books, play games on gadgets, or yawn.

          On a train journey, I don’t need to wear formals or smart casuals nor carry upmarket bags. I couple of years ago, shabbiness was fashionable and one couldn’t make out by looking at a passenger who was ‘second-class train’ and who ‘business-class air’. These days, though, formal clothes are back in fashion, no more faded or frayed jeans with hand-me-down tee-shirts. Notice that?

          The train and air fares were very different even till a few years ago. Today, some airline fares, if bought at certain times, are less that the train ones. This topsy-turvyness has resulted in mixed folk travelling shoulder to shoulder, which is great fun to watch.

          The staff that handles the food can be quite earns their living through commissions earned through sales. So they waste no time in chit-chat. Unless, as happens mid-monsoon, there’s hardly anyone in the compartments. That’s the time I ask questions and get the most interesting answers. Some of them live long years on the move. Literally. They work by day and at night they sleep in the same train or another, or perhaps one parked in the yard. The only home they know is in the village where their family lives, where they go annually. They network with other staff from other trains and tell me things no books do. Wallet and belt manufacturers from Bengal, UP and Bihar send their maal to Bombay, Delhi, and other cities with boys who, like these staff, also spend their lives catching trains, ferrying samaan from place to place. There’s a novel in every conversation, I’ve never got down to writing it. I remember one chap telling me where the food is cooked, where the rice for the biryani is bought, who fries the papads, who supplies the coffee-cups, conversations I could rarely have in an aeroplane.

          Most of all, the KR allows me to savour the beauty of the west coast. Black buffaloes sauntering across emerald fields. Bright pink and orange sunsets. I’ve always wondered why the Tourism people haven’t thought of marketing views of the country-side in luxury trains on this route. Maybe plans are on the anvil. We citizens are sometimes the last to know.

          The upper-berth-lower-berth skirmishes have been going on every since I can remember. That’s the other big advantage air-travel has over the railways, the first being saving time.

          Ever since the steamships were put away or broken down or sold in scrap, the romance of a Goa-Mumbai journey had reduced. Buses aren’t charming. No way. So the tug-of-war between landing on a runway and pulling into a platform will continue. At least in the monsoons, when Nature here is at its dramatic best. To me, KR wins.