Going AGRA...

We were at the fag end of our college life. In those days I and my close friends were always in pursuit to go places and accumulate memories for future. College curriculum and money did pull our enthusiasm at times but envisaging the busy professional life ahead we then knew ‘it’s now or never’.

It had only been a few weeks that I and a very close friend of mine had returned from the Maha Kumbh. For us, asking money from our families for another trip was out of question. With just a month left for our beloved college life to end we continued tolerating our boring classes and labs. But soon a plan was to pop up.

The plan was to visit Agra. A group of 5 of our classmates had actually come up with this and four of us were optimistically invited to join them. Initially thoughts of gong to Agra did summon a great interest in me and I could unmistakably sense the same in others. But soon our system tripped. As stated before, money was an issue and seeing my disapproval my other friends also came up with a negative response. Suddenly each of us had some or the other reason which was toppling the plan. Being very close buddies meant either all four went or none of us went.  The plan was pre matured but we didn’t allow it to fizzle out. We reviewed it frequently to keep our interest alive. Seeing the other group plan and book their tickets, we finally decided (unanimously) that we had to go. Even thoughts of missing out a wonder like Taj Mahal were painful.

The base was set. After we convinced our families for the trip finance it was time to book our tickets. We had to make up for the delay in making up our mind. We spent hours at night analyzing and planning our itinerary. We chalked out trains from Indian Railways which would best suit us. Fun part was that we maintained privacy and ensured the other group didn’t get the slightest hint of our changed plans. We also ensured that we boarded the same train from Kolkata to Agra as they did. Rough calculations to estimate the least budget sufficient to manage the trip were made. We finally came down to 2000 rupees. May sound very less but that was what we could cough out. Having less and managing more adds to the fun. Doesn’t it? After patiently spending hours in long queues we booked our train tickets. All set and done we then keenly awaited the day of our departure.

It was 4^th April Thursday. Magadh Express which we were to board was scheduled for a 1pm departure from Sealdah. Just because of our lagging attendance we were compelled to attend a first half lab and then eventually hurry up with our final packing once we returned to our hostels. A quick lunch and boarding the timely bus ensured our arrival at the station just on time. We filled our empty bottles to avoid buying water. Cost cutting was an invisible companion to accompany us. With less than 10 minutes in hand we scurried for our compartment. 

We kept a sharp vision to ensure that our co-group didn’t catch a glimpse of our presence. Finally we get our respective seats and by then the train had already started its journey. We took half an hour to get ourselves settled and then finalized that it was time we gave the other group the much awaited surprise. They were seated not so far, rather just in the next compartment. Feeling very anxious we approached them.  A hard slap on the back of one of them was enough for him and rest of the group to turn their attention towards us. Seeing us they were completely left agape. None of them were ready to believe that we were to accompany them to Agra. After revealing them our planning and how we wanted to surprise them, they were left completely astonished but nonetheless were thrilled to have us join them. Now we were a single group of 9 (final year college mates) heading for Agra J

College friends are the best ingredients one can get in his/her life. Having them in a tour adds cherry to the cake. Sharing our food, buying eatables from hawkers, fighting for cost cutting and not to forget the endless gossiping, all these ensured that we never had a null moment during our journey. Photo sessions had already started, courtesy to the two cameras we carried. Getting down the train at smallest of the stoppages, standing beside the compartment door (at times precariously) and getting clicked individually or in groups (striking next to perfect poses) was such fun. 

The train was catching speed. It was evening and the sun was dying down at the distant horizon. There I was standing at the door with a transgressing look. The train whistling past the trees, the wind hitting my face and playing with my hair. Life couldn’t get any better, I told myself.

Later at night we had to content with the not so good pantry dinner. Then it was time to retire to our respective berths for a tight good sleep. We expected to reach Agra the next day before noon, a thing we were all eagerly waiting for.                                              

                                                                                                                     …………..to be CONTD….

A JOURNEY TO SUFFER

“Make hay while the sun shines.” This saying had been reiterated to me many times in my childhood. But very sorry to say this doesn’t click with me anymore at least figuratively. Waking up early morning with torturing thoughts of monotonicity has been the worst deal of my life. But battling all these with a hollow inner voice of ‘COMEON’ I go through my daily morning routine to get myself ready to face the outer world. But wait, before leaving sweet home a look at the wallet is very very important as the contents inside it tend to play a villainous role in one’s journey.

Being a resident of Kolkata (the City of Joy) I am highly indebted to its public transportation. Speeding buses with their conductors hollering for passengers is a common site on Kolkata roads. But as a passenger the ride in these buses is not that joyous. Interior of buses ensure that one gets the minimum comfort in his/her journey. Courtesy to our ever growing Indian population, you find yourself stuffed with so many others, much much more than the bus can actually accommodate. Packed inside the ill ventilated bus and cooked by the hot, sultry weather the inevitable starts – you break into sweat and drops of it start trickling from your till now immaculate face. At the same time, you can’t really complain about coming in contact with a sweat drenched co-passenger around you. The passenger seat ratio at peak time even reaches a fatal 4 is to 1, implying presence of 100 odd passengers in an average sized bus.

Very soon you find the conductor asking in his loud, rugged voice for the bhara (Bengali version of fare). That is when the pre check of your wallet comes into play. Doesn’t matter how rich you are and how much cash you are actually carrying, what is by default expected from you by the conductor is chutta (Indian version for change) or the exact fare if possible. But beware, before you hand over the chutta please ensure you have enough for rest of the day. You see it’s because every Indian wants change!! And in case if you are handing a 50 or a 100 rupees note then be ready to be on the receiving side for both the change as well as the taunting. Same is the case when you dare to board the bus with any type of baggage. Once you are greeted with rebuke from the conductor and other passengers balancing and finding space becomes the next big thing. 

Surely the conductor is the most happening person in a bus. Stopping the bus frequently for more passengers and stuffing them in the already packed bus or beating the bus and setting up the tone to encourage the driver catch speed are trademark acts of a conductor. Hence the bus is either crawling or moving dangerously at high speed. In both cases the conductor ends up becoming a punching bag on which passengers vent out their anger. Threatening and banging the bus is a very common thing done by commuters to get the bus moving smoothly. Some of the comments hurled by passengers at the conductor are worth enjoying. If you get a seat then its fortunate enough given that the seat is comfortable and you share it with an average sized person and most importantly that you have the confidence of making your way through the crowded bus by the time it reaches your desired stoppage. But hold on. If you see an old person standing beside you then it’s surely charity knocking your door. Like it or not go ahead and do the good deed.

Like any other journey in life the bus journey too provides you with some good people and some not so good people. You can frequently find yourself among short tempered persons who are now and then getting angry on slightest of the pushes or constantly grumbling about how others are standing. Surely the only remedy for tackling such petulant people and conductors are temporary blindness and deafness on your part. It’s always best to put up a stern body language, making it difficult to be dominated by the people around you especially in a public bus. Often it’s the poor people who are maltreated by the conductor. Aren’t they paying the same fare as a good looking lady or a well dressed gentleman?? Isn’t the bus meant for the public?? So why the difference?? 

The bus journey surely takes you through various mood swings. Doesn’t it? At times you feel philosophical (like why am I here? What is the purpose of life?) or sometimes dreamy (like becoming someone like Ranbir Kapoor or SRK or driving a BMW) but the very next moment you feel a bit angry and frustrated when reality bites you. Surely you can’t restrain yourself at times hurling some bad slang at people around you if not openly then at least in your mind. 

But after being transported like animals (as if gadhas)  and going through all those traffic jams, irritating stoppages, pushing, shouting and fighting one finally reaches his destination. Getting down like boarding requires quickness of mind and as it’s difficult to predict where the bus would stop; you can easily find yourself in a precarious situation in the middle of a busy road.

Surely “survival of the fittest” at its best- only understood by people who don’t own a private vehicle.  

 -PRASENJIT CHAUDHURI