Anamika's Miscellany |
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Indian Railways Unreserved: Travelling Without a Berth |
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I am sitting on the top bunk of a three-tier train as I write this. It is quite cramped here, since the roof is low and does not permit even one of my average height to sit upright. This is not, of course, the place one is intended to sit in a train, but, being an “unreserved” traveller, I have little choice. Travelling by train in India calls for a strange mix of tact and aggression, whichever side of the fence you may be on. As an unreserved traveller, you sometimes need to be aggressive and sometimes diplomatic in the subtle and ongoing fight for space. You might be fighting for the window seat, for luggage space, or for legroom on the ground (crowded with luggage and other people’s feet) or on the seat in front (a normal and essential resting place for feet on a long journey). Having won the space you need, you then need to fight off attempts by surrounding opponents to encroach upon your hard-won space. This battle can become quite aggressive when the opponent also does not have a reserved seat. To win this battle, you need all the tact you can muster. There are a few rules, which may generally lead to success, though there are no guarantees. First, never ask for space. Howsoever politely you ask, this request is bound to be turned down. The trick is to apologetically inveigle your way into an un-noticed corner of space. If an occupant asserts that the space is not vacant, you are prompt in assuring that you will immediately vacate once the rightful owner appears. (If it seems that such a ploy will be well received, try the weary sigh followed by the “I-just-want-to-rest-my-tired-feet” approach.) Having gained a small patch of seat, you next proceed to enlarge your kingdom through a series of strategic advances. This is easier if the people surrounding you are of the opposite gender. An outstretched leg here, an arm propped for support there, a bit of wriggling and squirming soon ensures a now deep seated (as it were) hold on your area. Once you have thus entrenched yourself, the next battle is retention. It becomes necessary to look the other way when the rightful owner of the seat appears. With any luck he will try to squeeze in next to whoever he was travelling with, perhaps with a few muttered curses about unreserved passengers. If he does address you, you must reluctantly ask him to “adjust” himself, adding that you are travelling only a short distance. (The veracity of this statement is wholly irrelevant: nobody expects the truth anyway.) In this fashion, a train can sometimes end up carrying close to double the number of passengers it was intended to. Seats intended for three seat four or five. Seats intended for two seat three. The upper berths, intended for reclining repose, seat two and would seat more had not the low sloping ceiling forestalled the possibility of anyone (if under average height) being able to sit upright. And for those who with all their tact are unable to procure a seat of any sort or kind, there is always the option of standing in the corridor (creating a greater nuisance by blocking the passage of vendors and passengers) or the space in front of the door, or even on the steps of the door, which offer an uncomfortable and risky perch. Additionally, the malodorous airs wafting from the nearby "conveniences" (toilets) are a hazard which must be braved if such is your situation. On the whole, passengers tend to be tolerant, if not cooperative. Many have, after all, found themselves at other times in the same boat… sorry, train. Unreserved travel, as can be imagined, is not a particularly comfortable means of reaching a place, but it has a certain entertainment value and is also and education – of sorts. The man sitting next to me on this topmost bunk, after peering curiously at my frenzied scribbling (and being totally unable to decipher it) is now noisily engaged in a game of cards with a someone on the facing upper bunk and two others on the side bunk. Tea comes and goes and is bought, haggled over and drunk. A station comes, several people get off, others get on, and then, as the train pulls out, those who had gotten off (just to stretch their legs) get back on and the subtle war for space starts all over again. |
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