14:50 + 00:20! + 00:30!! + 00:40!!! + 00:30!!!!
The experience that follows narrates a recent journey from Ahmedabad to Bangalore undertaken on 17 December 2015. The train was to depart at 14:50; it got delayed by 2 hours. This period-in-waiting has been summed-up in 1100 words.
Since the duration of my visit to Bangalore was a mere month, I was travelling light. The status of the train had been checked before taking an auto for the station. There was no scheduled delay. Honestly, even if it showed a delay in arrival of ‘Bgkt Sbc Express (16533)’, I would have still been on time.
The platform number was visible on the LED screen at the entrance of the station. I made my way to the platform with one bag in hand. The station was not very crowded. There was more space than usual to move around. I re-confirmed the arrival of the train on platform from a man in a ‘chai’ shop. Little did I know that this very man will be a source of wide-ranging banter and endless cups of chai over the course of next 2 hours.
The train was supposed to arrive at 14:50 and I was stationed happily on the platform since 14:00. I like train journeys—the sound of train, the seemingly endless railway tracks. All journeys are laden with infinite new beginnings. In a transit space like a station, that cumulative effect is pronounced by thousands. Sharing new beginnings with people you do not know, will never know; can possibly never know. Whenever I am travelling alone, I always reach the station much before time.
Up-till 14:30, there was no change in the scheme of things as far as the arrival of the train was concerned. I was busy in an internal monologue about the semester end jury that happened a week ago.
At 14:30, the LED screen started the tease and showed a delay of 20 minutes to begin with.
With more time in hand, I decided to visit the chai shop—have a chai and a conversation with the guy running the shop. I do not remember his name but he was 28-29 years old. He told me that the delay for this particular train, that I was to board, does not happen often. He asked me my whereabouts and I told him my plans and excitement of visiting Bangalore from a dry state. We laughed. Another of those things that bonds people in Gujarat—stories of ‘alcohol hunt’ and f**k-yeah-beating-the-system. I ordered another chai. On one side was this chai shop and on the other the LED screen glaring at me. As I turned left, this time around, there was a further delay of 30 minutes. “THE” train would now arrive at 14:50 + 00:20 + 00:30.
Now that I had more time I thought of ways to spend it. ‘Nothing is going to kill my holiday vibe’ was the guiding mantra ever since I stepped out of the college campus . First thing to hit me was the availability of only a pack of cigarette with me. Will it be sufficient for the journey? Why take risk? Usually, if you run out of it, you can get the same on the train from the guys in the pantry. You are charged a little extra, but it’s worth the money for service on wheels. I was too lazy to walk till the main entrance all over again. I asked this man if he had any. He had none. He called one of his friends, with a similar shop in another corner of the station, to get one pack. Preference (in ascending order) of the available brands had been discussed.
One task ticked off the newly built checklist, I called for another cup of chai. This further delay had created a little hustle in the platform. I could see people who were to eventually board the same train now looking at the screen with more intensity. There were more people in-front of the LED screen than before. People with their luggages parked close-by; going our of their way (if one was to put it this way) to notice the fluctuations in timings.
My thoughts at this time were focussed on the LED screen and its significance in my life, our life, lives of so many people looking at it with hopes to travel—to go to a far-away land. This tiny screen now being a harbinger of hope and dread. A delay of 3 hours was shown for another train.
What would I do if my train was delayed by 3 hours?
What could (or would) I possibly do in a similar situation? So many of things that happen to us our beyond our control. The delay of the train, like many things in life seemed beyond our control. What if the LED screen, which was now the fortune teller of our immediate destiny, showed me a delay of 10 hours. What if it showed the passengers of all the trains in the entire world a delay of 16 hours? What would we have done in a situation like this? What can we possibly do—as an individual, as a collective ?
As these thoughts were plaguing my mind, I noticed the LED screen asserting its command over my life. Our lives. The time of our entry into the prized train now stood at 14:50 + 00:20 + 00:30 + 00:40.
As long as the fortune teller is telling me the time of a destined future, it is fine. Is it fine? I was filled with gratitude for this LED screen. What if there was no screen? What if there was a voice heralding the departures and arrival of trains? What if there was nothing to ‘predict’ the arrival of the train and communicate it’s movements to us, mere passengers ?
These thoughts made me feel helpless and filled me with strong sense of gratitude at the same time. My train journey was not of much consequence. I was going to meet my brother and spend time with friends; the delay was not a life death situation. What about people who travel by train as the only means to reach a destination? For me a train travel carries with it the romance of chai and time to indulge in a book. What about the people who have higher stakes in this journey—an ailing grandparent, an important meeting, an aching long distance lover, a job interview.
What is it for them to wait? The LED screen now read 14:50 + 00:20 + 00:30 + 00:40 + 00:30
Kshitiz | New Media Design 2015