A Hindu Horror Story

A few years ago, when I was in primary school  on summer holiday, I spent several months travelling through Asia with my family. We had to make our way from the Himalayas in Nepal down to Delhi. We arrived late one evening at the railway station of Gorakhpur, in time to catch a train at midnight. Or at least that was the plan.

I waited, and waited, and still the train did not come – until finally, at around 9 o’clock in the morning, the train arrived.  Oh… my… God…I thought, This train is packed ! I climbed into the train, and clambered over people and luggage until I found the compartment where my seat was reserved. There seemed no room, but they made space for me and I squeezed in by the window. It was a 3rd class carriage, just a wooden bench for a seat, and no aircon ! It was May, and stiflingly hot in the Northern plains of India – thank goodness for the breeze coming in through the open window !  The train chugged on through the morning, until …. Calamity !

 The train broke down, in the middle of nowhere !  No more breeze, it got hotter and hotter inside the crowded compartment. Nothing seemed to be happening, until finally a train conductor arrived and announced that another train would soon come and everyone had to transfer onto that one. My family and I looked out of the window waiting, and waiting, for the new train.  When  it did arrive, I was just thinking 'Is this a joke ?!' There were more people on this train than on our very full train and all of us had to get in ! There were people on the roof, hanging out the windows, under the bench and even in the luggage compartment. Everywhere I turned my head there were millions of eyes staring back at me ! So again I climbed over bags,  people, goats and chickens to find my seat.

 The Indians were somewhat nice to me and let me sit. But I think it was because I was a child and a foreigner because soon after this a fight broke out between two Indians : one wanted the seat for his pregnant wife but the other wouldn’t give up his seat. It was quite funny actually because their language is quite onomatopoeic so I could know that they were swearing.  After an excruciatingly hot 15 minute break, the train started to move and all that I could think was  'get me out of this hellhole!' or 'I’m never getting into a train again' but then the breeze started and all of my anger towards trains melted away. The train finally tiptoed into Delhi train station and I just told myself. Thank goodness It’s over ! I promised myself that I was never taking a train in India ever again.

Elenor