ACROSS THE MILES

THE TRAIN RIDE

My love of trains goes back as far as I can remember.The trains in India are as ancient as India itself, it looks like part of the landscape. Much of the Indian life is lived within sights of the railway station or the train tracks. The Indian railway is not merely a way of going to and from work but rather a solution to the complex demands of family life. Births, deaths, marriage and religious festivals all require a journey home. At the time when I was growing up in India air flights were expensive so most people depended on the train.

My father was home once a year, I looked forward so much to that visit because not only did I get time to spend with him but he would take me and my younger brother for train rides. We would usually go from one station to another but sometimes we would just ride the train all day and then take the return train home. The exciting part was there was no destination.

I remember one such day, scattered showers of the monsoon had begun to appear, I sat by the window in the train, looking out. I could see the rice fields, planting had begun and it was a luscious green. The cool air filled my nostrils, I could smell the fresh earth,the children playing in the fields appeared happy with no care in the world. I wanted to be one of those children, the expanse of the green fields and wild flowers beckoned me.

At the first stop, I see people scurrying back and forth, you can tell the long distance traveler because they always carrying a big trunk. The trunk had many uses, children would use it as a seat, when lunch was served it converted to a table and you suddenly felt like home, it was also used as a back or head rest.

Across the tracks I see many vendors selling food, books, trinkets and even sunglasses. One cannot miss the meals on wheels, hot tea and also vegetables and rice. I always liked the hot masala peanuts which was wrapped in note book paper, after eating the peanuts I would try and figure out what was written and wonder who the book belonged to .

The train thunders on, passing small villages . I see men and women washing clothes by the river and mud huts with grass roofs in the distance. We pass by a bridge and I see cattle grazing. It was a clear evening after a rainstorm, there was not a dark cloud in the sky , the blue color reflected in the pools of water in the paddy fields.

I keep gazing out of the window, the skies slowly begin to get darker and soon all that can be seen is the flicker of lights in the distance which gets brighter as we reach the station. Very few words are exchanged the whole trip, it was a time to see and enjoy the world outside of my home.

Suddenly the train comes to a halt, I feel my fathers hand on my shoulder, it was time to disembark. He gets himself a hot cup of tea and gets us some peanuts. I was too excited to eat. I can feel my fathers hand gripped in mine, as we make our way home. I had been on this beautiful journey and had spent time with my father, I wished this train ride could have gone on forever.