A hot summer day of '90s. I was playing in the streets with my friends. This is called Gully cricket - a very popular form of game in India. The narrower the alley the better fashioned the game is...
Well anyway, what I'm going to talk about here is not the cricket or its modified version to suit our convenience, but its obviously much more than that...
My father shouted from the door of our house and I had to return midway my inning with the bat in one hand and ball in the other. I thought I'd get some reprimand for overplaying. O hell, don't think my father used to scold me for every l'il things, as he rarely did. But to my utter disbelief he told we are going to Calcutta. It was the time when I could not even pronounce it properly, forget about the spelling.
The small village kid, for whom a cycle ride would cause a chin-breaking smile, a ride in the train was like getting the way to heaven. I was overwhelmed by the thoughts that surpassed me in the next 2 hours and finally I was awake at Asansol where the bus landed us for boarding the train.
I read about dreadful train journeys by some authors whom I could not recollect then - their treacherous experience and horrified depiction left me afraid until I got into the seats and amazed seeing nothing happened.
As the journey begins, one co-passenger lighted a bidi (Cigarette like material with natural packaging), I hated this the most while people smoke. I felt so bad about them and for myself for accompanying them. I felt miserably ill at times during bus rides for this smokey matter. Now of course, the scenario is lot different.
Various hawkers came with their ferries at unbelievable rates and with delicious cuisines (don't blame me, those things were not available in the village where I used to live). But my father commented about the hygiene and did not offer me anything. And then after initial hiccups, he got me a thonga (pack) of Jhalmuri (a spicy chilly-aloo filled puffed rice like Bhelpuri). I kept myself busy eating from the pack till the end of the journey while looking out from behind the window.
It was pleasure to see the trees running backwards, it was hard guessing your own movement, I mean the train's. It was a lifetime experience I thought that I would share with my friends while I get back. Running trees, I thought for a moment, they won't believe me for sure.
Oh yes, I forgot to mention about my attire. I came out in the same dress I was wearing while playing Gully cricket as there was almost no time left for me. Even I came out wearing Chappals (typical bathroom slippers). So this way, after about 4 hrs. of journey we reached Calcutta while the clock is touching noon.
The Howrah bridge stood in front of my eyes. I could not believe myself. The only sight I got of this earlier was in the pencil box cover of my best friend. I was jealous about his worthy possession and he used to show off too. It is sooo big and across the wide Ganges & it was looking awesome under the sun. Hence we proceeded towards the City of joy. The Eden Garden's lush green pasture, the height of Shahid Minar, incomparable traffic of then Calcutta were all new to me and I was gobbling with my eyes and retreating my mind.
The day went on, we had food in some restaurant - that was so delicious even today my taste buds feels for it. Finally the time came to return, the very same day as Sun set we were back to the compartments yet again for the return journey. There was no possibility to get a seat in a coach occupied by daily passengers unless you are of fairer gender. The playing cards, never ending arguments on so-many-diversified topics were order of the day in the train. While we boarded the train it seemed a l'il too occupied but as it started moving it seemed a bit more spacious - even the hawkers and beggars found their way through.
Finally we got back by the evening just to find the last bus has left for the day. My father planned immediately to surprise his sister. So the journey was not finished but has just begun...
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