An Unforgettable Train Journey

One afternoon when I returned from shopping with my sister, I found an envelope in our letterbox: a call letter from a petrofil company near Baroda, Gujarat, India.

My sister was not very enthusiastic. From Calcutta, Baroda was about 2000 km away. We had no relatives or friends to help me there, but it did not deter me from travelling to such a complete unfamiliar destination. 

The company offered a second-class to-and-fro fare, which prompted me to try my luck.

Although I told my sister that I was excited to see new places, I was a bit nervous when I boarded the train late in the night from Howrah station. I was travelling to an unfamiliar place where the language was different and I had no idea how I would find the company which was nearly 20 km away from Baroda.

But as I took a seat, I noticed that the girl seated on the opposite side appeared somewhat familiar. Then I recognized her: Easha Banerjee. She had changed so much since I last saw her. She had put on weight, and the sindoor on her forehead announced her marriage, probably to someone from her community since I know her friend Basu was still a bachelor. 

“Hello, Easha” I greeted her. “Long time no see! Where are you going now?” I inquired.

 “Are you Bijoy or Jayan?” She asked impulsively. She was not sure whether I was my twin brother Jayan.

I was amused. “I’m forever known as Bijoy, your classmate and friend,” I said to confirm that she was my friend. “I’ve not changed my name since.”

She laughed, “I’m happy that you still consider me your friend. Well, I’m going to Baroda. And you?”

“Same place. I have got an interview to attend.”

“Me, too. What a coincidence!” She exclaimed, looking cheerful.

I was surprised to learn that we were going to the same company and she would be my competitor.

“I find you’re married. Where is your man?”

“He could not come. He has an important case at the high court, and he said he could not spare five days for a job that I was not interested in.”

“How come he is involved in a court case?” I asked.

“Idiot! He is a criminal lawyer, and he always gives more importance to his work than his wife.” There was a subtle hint that not everything was fine. “And so, I decided to go alone. What’s there to be afraid of? And besides,” she lowered her voice and said, “I have a small revolver with me, a licensed one. Ashutosh said to use it if threatened with violence, and he would see that no harm came to me. But I feel that it would not be necessary now since I’m not alone; you’re with me,” she whispered with an enigmatic smile.

“Who’s Ashutosh? Your dad?”

“My husband, you blockhead!”

“How do I know? You didn’t invite me to your marriage,” I grumbled as though I was hurt for forgetting me when such an important function took place.

But actually, I was not sorry for not inviting me. Basu was her boyfriend for some time, and yet it turned out to be a passing fancy and his name did not find a place on her invitees’ list.

“Well, if you’re selected for the interview, would you migrate to Gujarat?” I probed.

“Are you mad? I’m presently very comfortable with my husband at our own house in Park Circus, and I don’t intend to stay away from him in a strange place for a meagre salary. I’m going to Baroda only because it doesn’t cost me anything to travelling. We’ll reach there on Sunday morning, and I will have all day to see some of the interesting places there.”

“I see,” I said. I didn’t enquire whether Easha's husband was a workaholic or whether he had taken her outside Calcutta. Probably not.

The train had picked up speed and was going through some unknown places. It was past eleven, and we decided to go to sleep. Easha had the opposite lower berth, and I was on the upper berth. I had only a bedsheet to lie on and to support my head, I had my right hand as a pillow. Sleep was hard to come.

In the rhythmic movement of the train, most of the passengers seemed fast asleep. When the train stopped at a station, five tall, hefty, somewhat rough and uncouth men entered our compartment, talking in a dialect somewhat similar to Hindi. They were so loud and rambunctious that shattered instantly the calm scenario hitherto prevailed. Four of them carried long lathis (wooden rods) in their hands. Since it was a reserved compartment and all the berths were occupied, I felt apprehensive.

“Get up!” one tough-looking character, about six feet four inches tall and equally well built, prodded a window-side elderly passenger with his lathi. When he saw I was awake, the tough man turned to me and barked, “Hey, get down here at once!”

I had read about dacoits robbing train passengers at night in those parts of the province, and perhaps they would take away all the money I have.

Trembling with fear, I slowly got down. 

“Yes, what do you want?” I asked, trying to show I was undaunted, but my voice sounded almost croaking. 

“Thakur Balasingh Saab[1] is here,” he announced in a conspiratorial tone. “And we are going to sleep here. Vacate your berths immediately.” The latter part was an order.

“This’s a reservation compartment. I've reservation up to Baroda.”

“What reservation? This is India. Here everything is free now. Don’t you know that we got independence from the British in 1947? Move back without obstructing our way, you idiot. So far, nobody has dared to question us,” he muttered, glaring at me.

"But, sir, I've to travel a long distance…" I started pleading with him.

"What distance? Don't you know that you're now travelling through Thakur Saab’s territory? He will decide who sleeps where. Understand?” He hissed irritably. 

I was fortunate that he did not knock me down with his lathi. The other men had similarly woken up three more passengers and asked them to vacate their berths. “Now, move away. Thakur Saab will sleep on the lower berth.”

Immediately, one of the militant men, who looked like their leader, occupied the lower berth with a blissful insouciance. The tough-looking man then turned to Easha and prodded her to get up. “Wake up, man, I say, wake up.”

I was afraid that Easha would take out the revolver and start shooting at these lowlifes. Then there would be complete chaos, and I could kiss my interview goodbye.

Easha removed the bedsheet that covered her from head to toe and got up hesitatingly.

“Oh, it’s a girl,” Thakur Saab exclaimed from his berth. “Let her sleep there.” And finding my surprised look he added, “We respect women.” Turning to his men, he growled. “Ask the man in that upper berth to come down, and you people sleep on those vacant berths. Then switch off that damn light,” he commanded and closed his eyes, trying to sleep.

I stood there some more time unable to understand what was happening. I decided to complain to Train Ticket Examinor and get his help.

“I’m sorry, I cannot help,” the TTE vehemently refused to listen to me. “Thakur Saab believes that since the railway line cuts through his land, he has every right to travel by train free of cost at any time of the day with his men, and no TTE will ever stop them. These people are ill-mannered and belligerent characters and if I start questioning them, his men will throw me out of the running train. I’ve no intention to have an altercation with them,” he expressed his helplessness.

I remained there for some more time. I wondered whether I would have to stand on the train till we reached Baroda.

“They are harmless people if we don’t provoke them,” the TTE remarked on seeing me still standing there. “My suggestion is that you bear the inconvenience for a few hours since they will go away after some time. Till then, try to find someplace to sit.”

“Where are we now?” I asked.

“We’ve just left Jamshedpur,” he informed me.

I looked at the watch. It was 2.30 am.

Dejected, I returned to the part of the compartment where I had my berth. The tough-looking man occupying my berth seemed to have fallen asleep. He was using my bag as a pillow. Three of the evicted passengers were squatting near the door. Without any demur, one elderly passenger had spread out a sheet on the linoleum-lined floor and tried to catch up with his interrupted sleep.

I was wondering what I was supposed to do now when Easha called me in a low voice.

“Bijoy, come and sit at the edge of my seat,” she offered.

I was happy to get somewhere to rest my weary body. I looked at Easha in the dim light of the compartment, wondering how innocent she looked. After some time, I felt drowsy, my head seemed too heavy, and I would have tripped over to the floor when she nudged me and said, “Come and sleep by my side.”

Perhaps she felt sorry for my helpless condition. She moved herself a little sideways to give me enough space to lie down. It was an embarrassing situation, but feeling very tired, I wanted to lie down somewhere.

“Don’t get any fancy idea in your head,” she whispered. “Remember, there are people in this compartment, and if you commit any mischief, I will put a bullet through your head, and that would be the end of your story. So sleep like an obedient boy.”

I obeyed it. But I could not sleep when a young girl was lying by my side. Our bodies touched each other when the compartment swung as the train travelled through bends and curves, stirring tender emotions in me. But I feared that any wrong move on my part would prove fatal if she decided to test her revolver. Presently, as if in a trance, she put her arm around me and drew me closer to her. I did not resist. I could feel the warmth of her body, and I feared that she might wake up and express annoyance; instead, she embraced me tightly, and I expected she would give me a warm kiss. She didn’t. She was in deep slumber, and perhaps she thought it was her husband sleeping by her side. I could not help thinking about what someone had said on an earlier occasion: “It is no sin to sleep with another man if the wife constantly thinks that it is her husband who is with her.”

I was enjoying the great feeling when suddenly the light came on, and I found the tough man and others getting ready. Embarrassed, I caringly took away her arm from my body and sat up. 

“Saab,” one of the men tenderly touched the shoulder of their master, “We are nearing our destination.”

Thakur Saab opened his eyes and looked around without any interest. Rubbing his eyes with his rough hands, he regarded Easha and me rather curiously and posed a sudden question in his usual gruff voice, “Your wife?”

I nodded my head and replied, “Yes.” He must have seen us sleeping with our hands on each other on one berth. Easha appeared fast asleep and did not hear all these disturbances.

“Good match,” he endorsed. “God bless both of you!”

I wondered how he would have reacted if he knew Easha was somebody else’s wife. Thankfully, he did not probe further.

Turning to his men, he asked, “What time is it, Hardev?”

“Four-twenty, Saab,” Hardev, the tough man, replied, looking at his watch,

“Right time. Did you get a good sleep?”

“Yes, Saab,” the men said in a chorus.

If he had decided to travel for another hour, I could have enjoyed the warmth of Easha for some more time, I thought. I wanted to strangle him. I had heard about many spoilsports, but Thakur Saab was the worst among them. 

Suddenly, as if he could read my mind, Thakur Saab turned to me.

“What do you do for a living?” he questioned me in his usual throaty voice.

“I don’t do anything now. I’ve no job, Sir. We’re going to Baroda to attend an interview.”

“No job?” he was astounded. “Then how do you support a wife? Is she also coming for the interview?”

“No, sir. My wife is not coming for the interview,” I blurted out quickly. “She wants to see some places in Baroda, and so I’m taking her,” I explained. “I had a job till a few months ago, but when I fell sick with typhoid and could not attend the office for a month, my boss terminated my service, and I’m now looking for another job.”

“What’s the name of that rascal? Doesn’t he have any consideration for his employees? Give me his company’s name, and I’ll deal with him squarely,” he said heatedly.

“Leave him, sir. His work might have suffered when I didn’t attend the office for about a month. I’m confident I’ll find another job,” I said, trying to appease him. If Thakur Saab did anything to my ex-boss Mr Desai, I would be held accountable, and the police would add two and two together and know who the culprit is. I would then be in great trouble.

“Okay, if you say so. You appear to be a simpleton,” he remarked. “I like such people. If you don’t get another job, I’ll give you one,” he offered munificently. Turning to Hardev, he asked, “How about taking this boy into our gang?”

Hardev appraised me from head to foot as if I was some sort of a product for sale. He wrinkled his nose to indicate that he was not pleased with what he saw.

“That would be a bad move, Saab. The boy has no physique, and he is short,” Hardev commented. “In a crisis, he would be of no use to us.”

I was five feet ten inches tall, and yet Hardev found me a wretched dwarf.

“Ah, you said it right,” Thakur Saab assented.

“Now, what work could I give to him?” He asked himself aloud, pondering over my situation.

It was then the train slowly came to a halt at a small station.

“Go and get five cups of tea for us,” Thakur Saab commanded enthusiastically. “That will be your first job. Now run fast before the train starts moving.”

I knew what would happen if I disobeyed.

So I ran and came back balancing five cups of tea in my hands which I handed over to these strange characters.

As they were sipping tea from the mud cups, I waited expectantly for the cost of the tea. There were no thanks or money. So I ventured, tenderly extending my hand, “Sir, paise for the tea?”

Thakur Saab appeared bemused at my request. He began to laugh hysterically, and I wondered whether I committed a faux pas.

“How dare you ask for money from Thakur Saab?” Hardev threatened me, raising the lathi as though he was going to hit me. “Thakur Saab doesn’t pay for tea anywhere in India,” he declared. “Nor his men,” he added in a low voice.

“Okay, okay. I apologise for the slip-up. Forget it,” I said, mentally reducing the cost of tea from the balance of money I had in my pocket.

“Hmm. Try to learn how to respect important people,” Hardev cautioned, glaring at me. It was new knowledge to me: gangsters were also respectable citizens!

I felt belittled when Hardev collected all the empty mud cups from others and turned toward me with a strange order, "Throw them away."

I accepted the cups weakly and moved toward the window to dispose of them out of the open window. 

I could not understand why he did not do it himself without handing them over to me, but I refrained from voicing my objection loudly for fear of their lathis.

The train was running at high speed. I just stood there like a clown in a circus. A few minutes later, the train slowed down and hesitatingly came to a stop at Rourkela station, “Now you can occupy this berth,” Thakur Saab said, benevolently as though he was offering his seat to me. There was no apology at all for the inconvenience caused. 

As he was leaving, he turned to me and said, “If you don’t get a job, come to Jamshedpur and ask anyone in the station about me and he will take you in his auto or taxi to my house. Free of cost. I’ll give you a good job,” he promised.

“Thank you, Sir. I shall certainly come to you if I don’t get this job,” I replied, but in my heart, I knew I would never venture to meet him even if I got rejected in all the interviews I attended and stranded without any money. I had a sample of the good jobs that he would offer to his servants.

Thakur Saab and his vociferous gang left as they came making a lot of noise, unconcerned about the sleeping passengers.

The compartment again fell silent, except for the sound of the whirling fans.

Feeling grouchy, I climbed up to my berth and removed the bedsheet I had laid there. It was wet with Hardev’s sweat. Thankfully, he left my bag intact.

Within a few minutes, I slipped into a deep sleep.

(THE END)

[1] Saab means Master