bls31
October 2nd, 2009, 01:06 PM
TO MUMBAI AND BACK
PART ONE
Friday afternoon, with the empty roads, the drive to New Delhi station is smooth till the cab hits the CP then crawl, especially at the entrance to the station with people , cars, taxies, busses, autos- an amalgam of men and machine, in desperation to some how catch their respective trains departing Delhi more or less simultaneously.
I am told the Mumbai Rajdhani leaves from Platform No 3, I rush, bag in hand , a bit too heavy for me yet too light to merit a Coolie, a tribe that I try to avoid , jostling and being jostled, pushed and pushing , up and down the high over-bridge, with innumerable steps to climb and descend . I land at near end of the long train. Huffing and puffing, ultimately, I manage to locate Compartment ‘I A’ at the far end and to next to the engine.
Compartment ‘C’, with me as the sole occupant, the AC humming pleasantly, the double glassed window isolating the noise and the typical, unsavoury, aroma of Indian railway stations, after the torture of the last half hour and so, is heaven indeed. And now starts the pampering: aromatic, cool, wet napkin to sooth the by now burning forehead, welcome glass of apple juice and a soft pillow to lean on. Soon the attendant unfolds a table and sets a tea tray; real crockery and cutlery with a plate full of sandwiches, samosa and sweet from Haldiram.
Dinner is served early, four courses; with soup then a starter, a starter of a full meal, followed by a typical North Indian main course (Chicken and Dal makhani) to gorge on and to top it all Ice-Cream along with a packet of mouth freshener. Railways just forgot to provide a tooth brush and paste to nicely round it off.
The bed is dropped down and the bedding spread followed by frequent queries from the indulgent staff about the creature comfort, evens the temperature of the AC.
I visit the toilet : from the half open window, the unseen vista, blanketed in the pitch dark outside, falling rapidly behind, the train hurtling forward with breakneck thundering speed, the frequent tooting by the massive engine, the rattling of the wheels over the not so smooth rails, the swaying, swinging, the up and down movement of the small enclosure in all it’s three dimensions making it difficult to balance; all combine to create an unnerving and uncomfortable feel accompanied with a perceptible tension forces me to soon return to the benign environ of the sealed cocoon of compartment ‘C’.
From Bombay central to Hotel in Andhari (East) even at 8.30 in the morning It takes, with traffic snarls, jams and a Stop - Go of just creeping ahead, all of a torturous two hours.
Mumbai looks so different than the Bombay of yore that I remember; unswept, stinking with debris of crumbled buildings, diggings on either side of the road with the centre verge taken over by under construction ‘Mumbai Metro’, ‘Mumbai Mono-Rail’,’ the Elevated Road’ from East West highway and the innumerable partially dug, water filled trenches housing assorted cables, strangely with no activity visible then and even when visited later.
Bombay, as I remember, always had Jhuggis, resting cheek and jowl with ‘High-Rise’s’ in posh areas. Mumbai as I see has ubiquitous Jhuggi clusters with an odd shining high rise, a glass and marble edifice, bang in the middle of the cluster. It makes a bigger eyesore, in an eyesore.
Trying to escape from the artificial environ of the Central AC , I come out of the gated hotel to catch some fresh air to be hit by the foul smell emanating from stagnant road side pools and the sight of filth around to promptly retreat to the room: a room with a view through the large picture window, but sadly it is a view of a vista of a sea of Jhuggis- spreading far to the horizon and climbing up the slopes of the distant hill.
That was Mumbai Next to Delhi Part Two
Bls31
PART ONE
Friday afternoon, with the empty roads, the drive to New Delhi station is smooth till the cab hits the CP then crawl, especially at the entrance to the station with people , cars, taxies, busses, autos- an amalgam of men and machine, in desperation to some how catch their respective trains departing Delhi more or less simultaneously.
I am told the Mumbai Rajdhani leaves from Platform No 3, I rush, bag in hand , a bit too heavy for me yet too light to merit a Coolie, a tribe that I try to avoid , jostling and being jostled, pushed and pushing , up and down the high over-bridge, with innumerable steps to climb and descend . I land at near end of the long train. Huffing and puffing, ultimately, I manage to locate Compartment ‘I A’ at the far end and to next to the engine.
Compartment ‘C’, with me as the sole occupant, the AC humming pleasantly, the double glassed window isolating the noise and the typical, unsavoury, aroma of Indian railway stations, after the torture of the last half hour and so, is heaven indeed. And now starts the pampering: aromatic, cool, wet napkin to sooth the by now burning forehead, welcome glass of apple juice and a soft pillow to lean on. Soon the attendant unfolds a table and sets a tea tray; real crockery and cutlery with a plate full of sandwiches, samosa and sweet from Haldiram.
Dinner is served early, four courses; with soup then a starter, a starter of a full meal, followed by a typical North Indian main course (Chicken and Dal makhani) to gorge on and to top it all Ice-Cream along with a packet of mouth freshener. Railways just forgot to provide a tooth brush and paste to nicely round it off.
The bed is dropped down and the bedding spread followed by frequent queries from the indulgent staff about the creature comfort, evens the temperature of the AC.
I visit the toilet : from the half open window, the unseen vista, blanketed in the pitch dark outside, falling rapidly behind, the train hurtling forward with breakneck thundering speed, the frequent tooting by the massive engine, the rattling of the wheels over the not so smooth rails, the swaying, swinging, the up and down movement of the small enclosure in all it’s three dimensions making it difficult to balance; all combine to create an unnerving and uncomfortable feel accompanied with a perceptible tension forces me to soon return to the benign environ of the sealed cocoon of compartment ‘C’.
From Bombay central to Hotel in Andhari (East) even at 8.30 in the morning It takes, with traffic snarls, jams and a Stop - Go of just creeping ahead, all of a torturous two hours.
Mumbai looks so different than the Bombay of yore that I remember; unswept, stinking with debris of crumbled buildings, diggings on either side of the road with the centre verge taken over by under construction ‘Mumbai Metro’, ‘Mumbai Mono-Rail’,’ the Elevated Road’ from East West highway and the innumerable partially dug, water filled trenches housing assorted cables, strangely with no activity visible then and even when visited later.
Bombay, as I remember, always had Jhuggis, resting cheek and jowl with ‘High-Rise’s’ in posh areas. Mumbai as I see has ubiquitous Jhuggi clusters with an odd shining high rise, a glass and marble edifice, bang in the middle of the cluster. It makes a bigger eyesore, in an eyesore.
Trying to escape from the artificial environ of the Central AC , I come out of the gated hotel to catch some fresh air to be hit by the foul smell emanating from stagnant road side pools and the sight of filth around to promptly retreat to the room: a room with a view through the large picture window, but sadly it is a view of a vista of a sea of Jhuggis- spreading far to the horizon and climbing up the slopes of the distant hill.
That was Mumbai Next to Delhi Part Two
Bls31