Romancing the rail

Romancing the rail

It was first day first show for SUDIPTO MONDALon the Mangalore-Bangalore train that flew past sights that surpass description

Photo: R. Eswarraj

CURIOUS CURVES Words like breathtaking, spectacular and stunning seem like ridiculous and meaningless clichés to describe the beauty

April 16, 1853, 3.35 p.m.: The first commercial passenger train to run on Indian soil left Bombay’s Bori Bunder for Thane, with a 21-gun salute. The train had 14 railway carriages and 400 guests.

December 8, 2007, 3 p.m.: The first commercial passenger train to run on the broad-gauge railway line between Mangalore and Bangalore left Mangalore Central Railway Station for Bangalore. The train had 16 railway carriages, 90 guests, 25 journalists and around 300 ticketless travellers. There was no 21-gun salute. In all the 154 years that the railways has been romancing the people of this land, the relationship has been an ‘on now-off again’ affair at best — doused by the drudgery of familiarity and estranged by the recklessness of both parties. And both parties have been scandalously promiscuous too. While the railways embraced freight ahead of passengers, the passengers on their part have spent countless nights travelling in newer, faster and swankier modes of transport.

But on Saturday the railways made the first move to bring the relationship back on track. In one charming move, it swept the people of this region off their feet and whispered inaudibly – come fall in love again. The dream of a passenger train between Mangalore and Bangalore, passing through the picturesque Western Ghats, is finally a reality.

People responded to the call by the thousands. Travelling great distances they made themselves present at every junction, station, level crossing and clearing in the thickets between Mangalore and Hassan, and waited for hours just so that they could wave at the train of their dreams as it chugged.As the train passed through some cricket fields and volleyball courts near Puttur the games stopped and the players broke into spontaneous celebrations to welcome the train. As it made its way through remote areca plantations, paddy fields, and villages, people took a minute off from whatever they were doing, to just stand and stare.

By around 5 p.m. the swelter and salty air of Mangalore is replaced by an unmistakeable nip; the vegetation turns greener, thicker; the landscape becomes increasingly undulated — the mighty Western Ghats can’t be far. Sure enough, 25 minutes later we are at the Subramanya Road railway station, the foothills of the Western Ghats.Journalists, busy interviewing passengers till then, suddenly jumped out of the train and made a dash for the engine — cameras, equipment, bags and all. Before the engine driver could protest they made themselves comfortable on the front sidings outside the driver’s cabin, when space ran out they filled the cabin too. These are ring-side seats and the show is about to begin.Early bird gets the worm and we are left with no option but to take the next best seats in the house — the brake van. In an attempt to duplicate the effect, that our counterparts in the engine are enjoying, we decide to stand on the footboard of the compartment.

Suddenly there is a churning in the stomach. Our grip, on the handles tightens instinctively and we avoid making any sudden moves. We are standing on the footboard as the train is crossing one of the first bridges. There are no sidings to prevent us from plunging into the thousand-feet gorge. We do not move because it feels like if we do, it will throw the train off balance and send all of us careening to the bottom of the earth. We finally give up attempts to get a better view from the footboard after we are slapped by branches of trees that are trying to reclaim lost ground from the railways. Shoving our faces through the window grills seems to be the next best option.

For the next two hours, until we reach Sakleshpur, our faces remained stuck the grills. It was just impossible to take our eyes off the Ghats that unfolded before us — emerald green as far as the eye can see, zigzag streams and waterfalls cutting a silvery gash through the otherwise impenetrable foliage.

The 57 tunnels, 110 curves and 241 bridges that make up the route simply defy description. It is only common knowledge that reminds us that these are man-made structures otherwise they look like they have always been here. The rust-coloured bridges that connect the cliffs look like extensions of rocks which are also of the same colour. The creeper covered tunnel entrances look more like natural caves.

Words like ‘breathtaking’, ‘spectacular’ and ‘stunning’ do come to mind but they are just ridiculous and meaningless clichés. We tried taking pictures too as you can see. But we haven’t managed to capture a fraction of what we saw. To describe the sights that zoomed past that grilled window is an exercise in futility. The regular trains, unlike the inaugural one, will run by night. Unfortunately it will be some time before you can see what we did. This is the first time in more than a decade that these scenes have played out in front of an audience. Alas it is also the last show until further notice.