The train was expected to arrive at 8:05 AM and I, along with a friend entered the railway station twenty five minutes in advance, because it is very easy to catch the wrong train. We were looking for the train that had CGL written on its front which would take us to Chengalpatu. It is only logical to ask a waiting passenger if one misses the CGL symbol, however, this is what happened when we asked one such passenger - we ended up in a train that headed to Marina Beach.
Yes, there are some things we learn only by experience because advice cannot get farther in content than "Make sure you catch the right train!" We had to take the wrong one to learn.
The train had reached Tambaram and its velocity had started to become negative, the train moved backwards. "Oh, so this is how the train goes to Chengalpatu.", I thought. Only my friend was sensible enough to suggest we jump off the train before it crossed the station. It was our first day as interns in a reputed company and this is what we were doing - hopping on and off wrong trains.
The mistake wasn't inexcusable though, thankfully. The trains that went to Chengalpatu had to pass through Tambaram and there was a schedule board for the CGL trains. We were convinced we couldn't go wrong again. The next train would arrive only twenty minutes later and we knew we were either going to be just in time or late. All train delays over a year in Japan add up to around a minute. All train delays over a year in India...,oh wait. Delays of a single train over a year in India add up to four hours, I roughly estimated. Yes, the estimation lacked proof but I was well convinced it was way more than a minute. We weren't surprised, we didn't not expect a delay but we thought the trainers at the company didn't expect a delay from us. "Sir, trains in India don't arrive on time.", we were going to tell him, but later realised it sounded awkwardly irrelevant to anything that would surround us there.
The train was going to be late anyway. We turned tourists who had arrived to check out the hustle and bustle of platform number 8 and 9 at the Tambaram railway station from 9:20 AM to 9:40 AM. Yes, the destination sounds too narrowed down, but it was fine for twenty minutes. Just as we decided to walk around, I watched a lady heading our way (the kind of lady Vadivel would describe as Lambadi Pomblai). She seemed like she was in a hurry, but no, she had the time. She paused for a few seconds, made a V-shape with her index and middle finger (just like the victory symbol used by politicians, only laterally inverted), placed it tangential to her lips on either side and shot out a jet of chewed paan with such deftness..,right, I will stop here. The jet ended its projectile trajectory (which would be a photographer's delight to capture) on the railway tracks. She was done and seemed like in a hurry again. Interesting.
We hadn't eaten since morning and we spotted a store. It wasn't hard to spot one, there was one, every ten metres. The store had its menu displayed on the outside. We could choose between "Card rice with pickal, Priyani rice, Leman rice, Sembhar Voda, etc." My friend ordered, "One Voda na."
The twenty minutes had ended and we were interns again. We had decided to apologise to the trainer as soon as we reached, assuming we would be late. The train arrived, overflowing with passengers metaphorical to how no matter how much you try to stuff something in your bag, it cannot be zipped and you decide to let it open. I chuckled as I convinced my friend, "Don't worry da, they're all going to get down here." We waited for a minute and the bag was still open. My friend stared at me. I pointed at the coach that seemed empty. This is one mistake every inexperienced traveller makes, taking to that coach. Any coach that seems reasonably empty is either an only women-coach or a first class-coach. Our tickets were 80 rupees lesser expensive than a first class-ticket but we got on to it and exchanged smart looks glad to have found a seat in such an exceedingly overcrowded train. It wouldn't have been long before a policeman got in to check tickets and fined us 300 rupees each.
We got into a different compartment in the following station where we found space just for the feet. A blind hobo in the coach had dropped his cup which he used for his coins. The person next to him picked it up for him. The man seemed too tuckered out to even ask for money. He probably needed food more than money. Another lady, seemingly a hobo, hopped into the train in the next station with her three children, one, an infant, and the other two that seemed to have just begun to walk. They weren't just toddlers, they were amateur gymnasts that could perform with a still ring. They were done before the train reached the next station and went around with the coin-cup as the mother and the infant sat, waiting, like it was their daily ritual. The woman-peanut vendor went around selling her stock in the crowded compartment. Another vagrant had set up his shop by the entrance, he sold superhero masks.
The journey that began at the Guindy railway station was full of activity, till we reached our destination, Maraimalainagar. We got into a ridiculously over-filled share auto to reach the plant.
"Hello sir, we are here for an in-plant training, here are our confirmation letters. We are extremely sorry for the delay. The train..."
"No no, that's fine. Take a seat in the reception hall.", said the trainer.
Yes, there are some things we learn only by experience because advice cannot get farther in content than "Make sure you catch the right train!" We had to take the wrong one to learn.
The train had reached Tambaram and its velocity had started to become negative, the train moved backwards. "Oh, so this is how the train goes to Chengalpatu.", I thought. Only my friend was sensible enough to suggest we jump off the train before it crossed the station. It was our first day as interns in a reputed company and this is what we were doing - hopping on and off wrong trains.
The mistake wasn't inexcusable though, thankfully. The trains that went to Chengalpatu had to pass through Tambaram and there was a schedule board for the CGL trains. We were convinced we couldn't go wrong again. The next train would arrive only twenty minutes later and we knew we were either going to be just in time or late. All train delays over a year in Japan add up to around a minute. All train delays over a year in India...,oh wait. Delays of a single train over a year in India add up to four hours, I roughly estimated. Yes, the estimation lacked proof but I was well convinced it was way more than a minute. We weren't surprised, we didn't not expect a delay but we thought the trainers at the company didn't expect a delay from us. "Sir, trains in India don't arrive on time.", we were going to tell him, but later realised it sounded awkwardly irrelevant to anything that would surround us there.
The train was going to be late anyway. We turned tourists who had arrived to check out the hustle and bustle of platform number 8 and 9 at the Tambaram railway station from 9:20 AM to 9:40 AM. Yes, the destination sounds too narrowed down, but it was fine for twenty minutes. Just as we decided to walk around, I watched a lady heading our way (the kind of lady Vadivel would describe as Lambadi Pomblai). She seemed like she was in a hurry, but no, she had the time. She paused for a few seconds, made a V-shape with her index and middle finger (just like the victory symbol used by politicians, only laterally inverted), placed it tangential to her lips on either side and shot out a jet of chewed paan with such deftness..,right, I will stop here. The jet ended its projectile trajectory (which would be a photographer's delight to capture) on the railway tracks. She was done and seemed like in a hurry again. Interesting.
We hadn't eaten since morning and we spotted a store. It wasn't hard to spot one, there was one, every ten metres. The store had its menu displayed on the outside. We could choose between "Card rice with pickal, Priyani rice, Leman rice, Sembhar Voda, etc." My friend ordered, "One Voda na."
The twenty minutes had ended and we were interns again. We had decided to apologise to the trainer as soon as we reached, assuming we would be late. The train arrived, overflowing with passengers metaphorical to how no matter how much you try to stuff something in your bag, it cannot be zipped and you decide to let it open. I chuckled as I convinced my friend, "Don't worry da, they're all going to get down here." We waited for a minute and the bag was still open. My friend stared at me. I pointed at the coach that seemed empty. This is one mistake every inexperienced traveller makes, taking to that coach. Any coach that seems reasonably empty is either an only women-coach or a first class-coach. Our tickets were 80 rupees lesser expensive than a first class-ticket but we got on to it and exchanged smart looks glad to have found a seat in such an exceedingly overcrowded train. It wouldn't have been long before a policeman got in to check tickets and fined us 300 rupees each.
We got into a different compartment in the following station where we found space just for the feet. A blind hobo in the coach had dropped his cup which he used for his coins. The person next to him picked it up for him. The man seemed too tuckered out to even ask for money. He probably needed food more than money. Another lady, seemingly a hobo, hopped into the train in the next station with her three children, one, an infant, and the other two that seemed to have just begun to walk. They weren't just toddlers, they were amateur gymnasts that could perform with a still ring. They were done before the train reached the next station and went around with the coin-cup as the mother and the infant sat, waiting, like it was their daily ritual. The woman-peanut vendor went around selling her stock in the crowded compartment. Another vagrant had set up his shop by the entrance, he sold superhero masks.
The journey that began at the Guindy railway station was full of activity, till we reached our destination, Maraimalainagar. We got into a ridiculously over-filled share auto to reach the plant.
"Hello sir, we are here for an in-plant training, here are our confirmation letters. We are extremely sorry for the delay. The train..."
"No no, that's fine. Take a seat in the reception hall.", said the trainer.
