Rediscovering and reevaluating
some old memories rather experiences is probably one of the most interesting
things to do. After a substantially busy and constructive six months, which
totally rearranges your perspective, you tend to reevaluate few things close to
you in a different manner.
This time when I was back in
Assam, I decided to rediscover the old travel experiences I which I used to
have during my childhood. Since my family migrated to Guwahati, most of our
close relatives resided in small towns within some 200 km radius from the
capital city. And this time, I decided to pay them a visit, in Shahrukh Khan’s Swadesh style. I decided
to leave the luxury of taking a car and use the most basic level of transport
available.
Thus on 16th March
2013, I was at the Guwahati Railway Station, with Bongaigaon as destination
which happened to be 155 kilometers away. The train route covers almost all the
small and medium sized railway stations of the Lower Assam, and also crosses
over the historic Saraighat Bridge over Brahmaputra.
After the increased train fares,
a general compartment ticket of the Howrah bound Kamrup Express cost me Rs 55. Being
a person whose daily college travel shoots up to Rs 100, I was just more than
happy. 8:55 was my departure time, and hence I went forward to first
compartment in the quest of a nice seat.
Amazing! Shocking! And why wouldn’t
it be? A small compartment of 30 seats, which is already, filled by good solid
60 passengers, young, adult and old; and still we have more than 20 minutes to
depart. I placed myself on the door in the hope of some fresh air and view, and
by the time the train embarked on its journey, the total capacity of the coach
overshoot by 70 passengers. With crying babies and smoking adults, the journey
started. I managed myself a little space to sit on the floor near the door and
started striking a conversation with a fellow passenger, who seemed or assumed him
selves to be the smartest of the small town crowd. “This is how we travel, everyday.” He said, indicating towards an
empty military compartment which was reserved for the jawans. He complained
about the extra luxury the Army people were enjoying while the common
passengers suffered every day. “Those
Army jawans see, they now have bullet proof jackets, yet they can’t kill these
terrorists, and people suffer.” He added further. I did not say anything. What
he claimed to be bullet proof jackets were actually just ammunition carrying
pockets. I did not to correct him, but I am quite familiar to this small town
ego, he won’t agree.
Passengers on the floor near the door |
As such, I decided to carry on
with the new rediscovering experience of mine. Sitting near an open door of the
fast moving train with over loaded crowed was just fine, but with addition of
more passengers in each passing station made this experience from amazing to
awesome. These people who are so used to these train travels can actually tell
you why the train has stopped mid way, and which train is expected to pass by
at this point of time at this palace; amazing. They seem to know every possible
vendor at the railway station, who sells samosas to omelets. Those three hours,
on the train door step, did away for my three hours of flight delay at the IGI
Airport, New Delhi. An enriching experience came to an end as I stepped down at
the Bongaigaon Railway station.
My next destination was Barpeta,
another small town in Lower Assam, which happens to be 80 kilometers from
Bongaigaon, while Guwahati happens to be another 80 kilometers from the other
end of Barpeta. This time, I decided that I would prefer a bus. Thus on 17th
March 2013, I was at the Chapaguri Bus stand, Bongaigaon. Being a Sunday, the
bus stop looked deserted and there was only one bus available for my
destination. As I approached the bus, I was unsure, if to be excited or tensed.
It was a half a century wooden bus, with a driver 15 years older than the bus. With
no other options, and a curious mind, I took my seat. A seat with a unique
window, which you could either keep open the whole or close it full.th, acceleration full. Wow, the top
speed of the bus was 40 km/h.
The window of the bus |
The interior of the bus is very
unique. Something which can be termed as antique; it was full wooden. And there
were pillars supporting the roof at random places. The seats were cushioned,
but the suspension of the bus was horrible. So as we passed through some rough
patch of road, we used to fly up in the air.
The interior of the bus |
The bus had n number of stops. People
used to get on at random places and get off at random stops. The maximum fare
of the bus happened to be Rs 40, which I paid. Crossing numerous small villages
and a couple of big rivers on an almost pre independence era bus, I reached my
destination, Satranagari Barpeta.
My journey came to an end the
next day, when I took a shared cab to Guwahati from Barpeta. All these means of
transport, I did use them in my childhood. But now I realize how unique and
different they are. So much to explore and so much to learn, more travelogues to come.
That was a nice travelogue to the heart of real India. I read it with interest because I am half Assamese myself. Though I have been to the state only once in my life, when I was very small.
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Thank you very much. And I must say, you would love to visit Assam someday.
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