A journey, interrupted

The train to Chennai wheezed to a halt somewhere near Jolarpettai, and no one knew what was going on. We overheard a video playing about a fire on the tracks a few stations ahead of our current location. It was doubtful that it would be contained soon, as it was an oil tanker goods train that had caught fire. Clearly, this train was not going anywhere, at least not that day.

With no intimations from the railway officials, we had to take matters into our own hands and decide whether to stay on the train or look for alternative options to reach our destination. A couple of fellow passengers and I discussed and decided to alight and find other ways to Chennai.

As we made our way to the exit, we overheard a girl saying, "Thank God, Mom packed a lot of theplas," while pulling out a massive tiffin box. Another young boy was live-streaming the scene. An elderly gentleman offered some sage advice: "Face the train while placing your feet on the metal steps when getting down." We followed his advice and hopped off the train, sans the usual soundtrack (which typically plays in the background in movies), but with a few bruises. I had to return to the train to retrieve my backpack, which I had left behind in the chaos. This time, I got off without my shawl, which had got stuck in the tracks.

As I navigated the adjacent track, I was reminded of sandboarding videos posted by people visiting Dubai. The crushed stones of the train ballast were treacherous to climb, and I slipped down a couple of times – they should make a sport out of this one!

Eventually, I made it up to the platform, and we set out to find some mode of transport to take us to a bus stop. We spotted a share auto by the roadside with four passengers already inside, one carrying a blender on her lap and another with a box of books on his knee. The driver made room for us, prompted by a nice lady. They dropped us off at a dusty bus station.

There, we found a bus waiting to depart two hours closer to our destination. Although there were more mosquitoes than passengers inside, I learnt to dance to the music playing on the bus to shoo the flying occupants off my feet.

The next leg of our journey was more comfortable, as we boarded an air-conditioned bus and finally managed to catch some sleep for an hour or so. This was where our unexpected adventure came to an end, and we parted ways. We had begun as strangers, but now we were part of each other’s memories.

Sweaty and exhausted, I summoned an Uber and finally reached home, where I was greeted like a returning warrior. 

Five hours late, but I realised that life doesn’t always stick to a timetable, and the detours often teach you more than the destination.