Of uneven platforms and novice train travelers!

Platforms by loose definition are raised, level surfaces. But not the platforms I am talking about, and certainly not the ones in what I call "small town North India"; they may be raised but they sure are not level! Let me explain ...

Novice passenger A to food vendor X: Bhaiyya, C1 coach kahan aayega?

Platform food vendor X: Thoda aage jao madam.

Novice (and doubting) passenger A to food vendor Y:  Bhaiyya, C1 coach kahan aayega?

Platform food vendor Y (standing three feet away from vendor X): C1? Aunty peeche jana, bahut peeche, pul ke paas!

Now Novice Passenger A is a novice who is seriously worried and nervous. For those who know that worrying is my favourite hobby, no prizes for guessing that this tortured soul is me!

But seriously, wouldn't you be worried if two people you think would be absolute experts on the matter gave you diametrically opposed pieces of advice? Wouldn't you start running a wild mental marathon, first in one direction, then in the other to find Coach C1?

Don't laugh at me - I happen to be a very smart person who anticipates problems so they can be tackled smoothly when they appear, and yes I assume they will appear, and no there is no "if" they appear in my mind! So I anticipate that I am going to have to run helter skelter to find my coach in the two minutes the train will stand at the station, and I start planning and strategizing (I hope this word exists, but I don't care if it does not) in my head how I am going to accomplish this feat. And don't tell me I can jump onto the train anywhere and then find my coach, because I have been there and done that and repented - pulling my stroller through nine, yes nine long coaches, and nine (or was it eighteen?) really heavy connecting doors between the coaches, (each of which swung back real hard and trapped either me or my stroller suitcase, whichever went second), to arrive at my reserved coach and seat was no fun at all, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise. So I have decided it is better to run my crazy mental marathon before boarding every single time I need to catch a train!

Anyway, having decided on my strategy I usually find a crowded, well lit spot on the platform. As I stand there practising my moves and improving on my best timing in my mind I am surrounded by large circles of squatting men, women and children, weird looking "holy men" with dreadlocks and loin cloths, and stray, wild eyed and hungry looking dogs. The children often take a walk to the edge of the platform to empty their bladders, the women in bright, gaudy, shiny sarees have their ghungats pulled well over their faces, and the men (the weird holy ones included) stare unabashedly at everything with breasts (size immaterial)! The dogs seem to be there only to add to my worries about contracting rabies, and of course to sniff at all the garbage, every snot and phlegm smear, and every rivulet of god-knows-what on the platform!

As it happens, when the train finally pulls into the station and begins to slow down I am able to read the coach numbers, and am able to walk to my coach at a much more leisurely clip than expected (but that may be because I have practised so hard in my mind)! As I start nearing my coach I begin to see people standing and waiting patiently for the train to come to a halt alongside the platform, in stark contrast to the mad scramble and excitement my mind seems to register amongst the squatting men, women and children as I begin to move away from them to find my coach. Instead of the motley shapes of the bundles and sacks of luggage of my erstwhile platform companions, here I see small, neat little strollers, laptop cases, and smart handbags. Office style shirts, American style shapeless bermudas, basketball shorts and sneakers, smart salwar suits, small, compact groups of people consisting of mom, dad and just one or two children, or lone, successful looking young executives, and prosperous, portly businessmen pierce my consciousness and inexplicably I begin to relax...

I board the train, find my seat and wonder why I did not see these blessed and beautiful people when I arrived at the station. Fool, my rational brain tells me, you did not see them because they did not arrive at the station a whole hour and a half before the scheduled arrival of the train. I realise that if they had arrived at the time I had arrived, or I had arrived at the time they had, I would not have needed to ask anyone where Coach C1 was likely to be. I could just have stood with them and waited for my train to arrive, because the railway platform is a microcosm of India, and because the reality of India's deep divides is as visible and tangible on every single railway platform as it is in its schools, colleges, housing complexes, markets, food habits, and just about everything else!

Now I know you would expect that the next time I have to catch a train I will take the easy way out and just seek out the laptops and branded sneakers on the platform. But you have another think coming... . Maybe my irrational brain is stronger than my rational brain, because I know I will continue to arrive ninety minutes in advance of my train and relive the agony every single time!