A day in the life of LIFE

That's right! This is precisely the train number of the "Kaveri Express" that runs daily and transports around 1276.5 people(15 coaches multiplied by 60 seats + unreserved + kids + vendors + ticketless travellers) between the metros of Bangalore and Chennai.

I had this psychological feeling of associating a train journey with summer vacations, for a train journey signified a looooong trip. Not anymore. I've very well joined the bandwagon of Indians who travel more often than they visit the restroom.

The 6221, departs at a convenient 23:45 hrs, thus providing lot of allowance for those office goers whose place of work does not mandate enough travel, which most Bangaloreans would find as close to the ideal state Carnot's engine.

After a hefty meal(I've said this before, My mother believes food is unavailable in Chennai), and a tearful farewell (they were more tears of joy though Ma doesn't admit it :)), I reached the Bengalooru city railway station at around 23:15 hrs. It's that time of the night when the stray dog on the street thinks he's the lion of the area, and hawaldar Pandu, is busy having a beedi to beat the cold weather.

The railway station as ubiquotious across India, as the Medu Vada in an Udupi restaurant, was however totally different from the sleepy city in being up and running 25*8.

I dragged my stuffed suitcase along the rugged platform and reached my coach S5, after a long walk that was as far as Dandi from Sabarmati.

I gleefully pulled out my ticket and matched S5 54, against the reservation chart that still smelt of fresh glue with which it had just been pasted.

S5 52 Santo Ben F 56
S5 53 Santa Singh M 78
S5 54 Lokesha M 28

S5 55 hey! wait a minute, 54 was supposed to be my name, unless of course my parents got fed up of calling me by the same.

I checked and re-checked!. I thought that Indian Railways was testing my logical reasoning ability and tried rearranging the letters of Lokesha to get my name in place. I then said to myself, "Abraca Dabra, choo!" still no luck. The time was 23:25. twenty mintues to departure.

I started swearing against my travel agent who I thought had bungled things up. but no! the date and train number were right.I decided to check if my berth was occupied, else I would sneak into the same and hold onto it for dear life.

As I approached the berth, I saw a 28 year old "boy" who was a macho already asleep on the berth, with his shoes at the far end. I hate it when people put their footwear on the berth thereby treating the railways as the Indian Government's dowry to them. Guessing from the namology, I figured the guy had to be from Karnataka. Not wanting to be beaten up into a pulp by the body builder, I broke into Kannada in the most reverent of tones, "Saar #54 nim berth a? nandu kooda ade ansuttey". (Sir, is this your berth? I seem to have the same number too). I expected the man to retort with annoyance, but Mr. Lokesha was more than willing to help.He allowed me to park my luggage under his berth and volunteered to sort it out with the TT. His ticket had apparently been confirmed from an RAC.

As we marched upto the TT in the adjacent bogie,"S S Sharma". I enquired, "Sirjee, zara yeh ticket dekh sakhtey hain? dono mein ek hi number hai? " He turned out to be the wrong one. We travelled to the other end of the compartment and bumped into the "real" TT.I read his nameplate "R. Selvamani". I've realized that speaking one's mother tongue adds the extra touch to the conversation. I decided to test my Tamil skills. I muttered "Saar, inda ticket koncha paakringla. Randa ticket ley orey number da irukku".(Sir will you please see these tickets they same to have the same number). By now, Mr. Lokesha thought I was going to speak Mandarin and Swahili in my next conversation.

The TT pleasantly smiled at me and said,"Saar! Ungod Class AC ku upgrade aairukku".(Sir, your class has been upgraded to AC). As pleased as punch, I triumphantly scorned the II sleeper bogie and sang praises of Lalooji even as Mr. Lokesha announced to his fellow passengers the news which was perceived by the others as if I had set a new Olympic record in Kabaddi.

It was 23:42. Three minutes to reach the compartment that was a good 5 bogies away. The gymnastics of Nadali Dementia(Should be Russian! and the relative of the Scientist who discovered Dementia - temporary loss of memory)did help me reach in time.

Once onto the train and after settling into my seat,I discovered that it was side upper! Groan! I muttered..And shortly I saw some passengers raising an alarm with a Railway police officer about unclaimed baggage right behind my seat!!

What happened to me in the Side berth? Did the unclaimed baggage contain some contraband substance that blew up? Wait for the next blog for more details on the same. Reporter Tintin would be back live :). Please dont go anywhere and do take good care of yourself