“Window scenes rolling by, steel wheels singing a lullaby… Dive into a nostalgic journey back to a time when train travel in India was an adventure, filled with anticipation, packed food baskets, and fleeting friendships. Relive the magic of childhood train journeys.”
Window scenes roll by,
steel wheels sing a lullaby
childhood drifts with clouds.
Living in a world focused on destinations, I remember fondly a time when the journey was the charm. A time when I didn’t shut down windows to keep away the noise and pollution, but opened them and thrust out my arm to feel the sharp wind. A time when the height of luxury was to have enough comics to last the entire journey.
A time…of train journeys.
All set? Chhuk-chhuk-go!
Trunks packed night before,
tickets tucked in Mummy’s purse
dreams leave with first horn.
April 30th couldn’t come soon enough every year. It used to be the last day of school and a harbinger of that favourite time of the year—summer vacation! Two whole months of unbridled fun with cousins in my grandparents’ houses in Lucknow and Kanpur. And that meant, a 36-hour train journey from Bangalore, where my father was posted.
While there was much excitement for the fun that awaited us when we reached, there was just as much, if not more, for the long train journey. The preparation began a few weeks before, with tickets being booked. My father being in the Air Force meant we didn’t have to book months in advance.
As time came closer, Mummy began making namkeen (savouries) and sweets to take with us for enroute snacking. Closer yet, the trunks and hold-alls would be dusted out and put in the sun to remove the musty smell of the garage. And then finally, the suitcase (called the attaichi) would be pulled out and clothes set. My prep? Filling my school bag (standard Duckback) with books and toys.
Don’t forget the food basket!
Hold-alls, attaichis,
poories, imli rice packed tight
a journey begins.
Finally, the day would arrive, and we would reach the station. First stop? The AH Wheeler book shop—to stuff my bag with more comics. You can never have too many, and 36 hours is a long time for a 7-year-old!
Then on to finding our train—the Kerala Karnataka Superfast Express. There was no direct train between Bangalore and Lucknow, and we had to change at Jhansi. The Jhansi Junction, till date, serves as one of the busiest train stations. Back then, it was the hub for all the trains coming from and going to the south.
Getting into the train was no mean feat. A typical journey would have us haul the following:
- 1 hold-all, with bedding: There was no air-conditioning and no bedding in trains those days. This would include, besides the sheets (and blankets in winter, a few inflatable pillows)
- 2-3 attaichies (depending on the number of people)
- 1 bag for toiletries and change for the route: The toilets in the train had a shower, very useful for the long journey
- 1 wicker basket full of food: This treasure trove would include snacks and food that could service the entire journey in peak summer. Pooris, imli rice and achar (pickles) were the usual fare. Fruits were bought along the way, as were candies (like the ones mentioned here). My father would sometimes get off at a station and get us cold drink.
- 1 surahi (earthen water pitcher) and a few thermos flasks for tea.
Once we had everything in, the negotiations began—who would take the top berth! It had the privacy a teenager sought, but no views. And you could sleep till late. The bottom had the best views and easy access to the food. The middle berth had the best of both, but you had to get up early so that it could be folded in.
I’m bored! What do I do?
Green fields race outside,
inside — books, games, whispered tales
a world within wheels.
The best part of traversing the entire country by train is to get a ringside view of India’s vibrant geography. And that can only be experienced with the windows opened, not through the sealed and tinted ones we find in air-conditioned bogies these days.
On the Bangalore to Lucknow route, the natural splendor of India unfurls like an intricate tapestry. As the train would carve its path through the nation’s heartland—particularly beyond Nagpur—the landscape would transform into a visual feast: dense forests, undulating hills, and a verdant stillness that seemed to stretch endlessly, offering silent testament to the country’s quiet, breathtaking diversity.
For most of the day, my entertainment was either looking out and soaking in this ever-changing view or burying my nose in my comics. The route was also peppered with tunnels, and every time we would go through one, a giddy excitement would take over.
“It’s become night in the day!” we would say. There was also thrill of hearing the thunderous sound the train would make as it crossed steel bridges.
Occasionally, we would spread out playing cards or Scrabble. The best part was making friends with all the others in the bogie. If there was someone my age, my sister would broker a quick friendship. Comics and toffees would be exchanged, and time would pass faster. Conversations, food, conveniences…all would be shared generously, as the long journey would gradually help bring down the hesitation of strangers and turn them into friends by the end. I’ve even heard of marriages being arranged in the process.
Oh no, we’ve reached!
Tracks fade into dusk,
crumbs of pooris, laughter gone
a whistle, then hush.
Finally, the train would roll up to the destination. Those last few hours, as the adventure nears its end, stretch on. It wouldn’t help that before the final station, the train would begin to literally drag its feet and sometimes even stop at the ‘outer’, waiting for its turn at the platform.
All the sheets, pillows, books, and everything that we had spread across the compartment, pretending it was our home, would be gathered and packed again. The only trace of us, crumbs of food, echoes of chatter, and sometimes, a small mark in the corner of the berth with my pen…N.C.
