The train was crowded, so crowded that I thought it was just a mass of people with no vehicle. It was overwhelming. But I had to go, I had to make the trip. I perched on the edge of the bench, ducking under the middle berth, where the reserved traveler was still sleeping. Soon the others travelers would wake, go to the common rest room to wash their faces, brush their teeth, and use the toilet, share a cup of tea, or change into their traditional dress to get off at their destinations. It is here that I learn to tie my hair up in a knot so it doesn't fall down. I was here for the duration, my destination was the end of the line, at the foot of the Himalaya where the bus will take me up the hill.
In my mind I traveled back in time to another train, another trip, other company. It was the end of a national rail strike and the trains were crammed with people and animals making up for lost time. In those days, the animals could still travel in the compartment with their people. I can still feel Ko Man Singh's strong hands lifting me onto the train among the crowds.
I looked down the aisle to the end of the compartment. No goats, no chickens. People wear business suits, carry computers and brief cases. A young man jammed in under another sleeping berth catches my eye. What story is he carrying, I wonder?
I never rode the commuter train in Mumbai, but I guess people who do develop a strategy that works.
I have only ridden the crowded train in NYC a few times, and I've ridden the commuter in Beijing, two of the largest cities in the world. I've also ridden Amtrak's Empire Builder from the Midwest, through Northern Montana and the Columbia River Valley to the West Coast, and the Coast Starlight down the outer edge of California. My experiences on Indian trains made me want to do that trip, and I'm glad I did. It's different in many ways, but you get the same rhythmic rocking of your miles. Looking forward to the next trip, someday.
In my mind I traveled back in time to another train, another trip, other company. It was the end of a national rail strike and the trains were crammed with people and animals making up for lost time. In those days, the animals could still travel in the compartment with their people. I can still feel Ko Man Singh's strong hands lifting me onto the train among the crowds.
I looked down the aisle to the end of the compartment. No goats, no chickens. People wear business suits, carry computers and brief cases. A young man jammed in under another sleeping berth catches my eye. What story is he carrying, I wonder?
I never rode the commuter train in Mumbai, but I guess people who do develop a strategy that works.
I have only ridden the crowded train in NYC a few times, and I've ridden the commuter in Beijing, two of the largest cities in the world. I've also ridden Amtrak's Empire Builder from the Midwest, through Northern Montana and the Columbia River Valley to the West Coast, and the Coast Starlight down the outer edge of California. My experiences on Indian trains made me want to do that trip, and I'm glad I did. It's different in many ways, but you get the same rhythmic rocking of your miles. Looking forward to the next trip, someday.
