Tring..tring..tring.. Train No 2559, Shivganga Express, travelling from Gaya to Delhi will shortly leave from Platform No.1. The announcement rippled through the Kanpur station as the train started moving. We - Myself and Singh - were aboard the train and had freed our respective berths from those "still-waiting-list-not-RAC" passengers. Using the back pack as pillow I lied on my allotted middle berth. Probably the curse of the passengers occupying the lower berth, the occupant of the upper berth started snoring delaying my tired physique the due sleep it deserves. The scheduled arrival time at Delhi was 0730 in the morning. I woke up at 0700 in the morning only to find out that the train had been delayed and that it would reach New Delhi only at 1200 noon. The irony was that the train passed our eventual destination Ghaziabad on its way to Delhi. Just like more work being the reward for good work; the punishment for any late running train is to delay it further. The treacherous travel had become a terribly prolonged torture as the train was stopping and giving way to even local trains. The train was slowing down for one another such stoppage when there was a sudden, unwarranted exodus of people from it. I was wondering as to what was happening when my co-passenger Singh, collected his luggage and rushed to the exit shouting " Oye, jaldi jaldi.. Ghaziabad outer .. Ghaziabad outer ". By the time I collected my baggage and rushed to the exit, the train had gathered speed and Singh stood there in a haughty mood with an expression that conveyed "I am marooned on this island and u made me miss the rescue boat". I wanted to tell him "Dude, I am new to all this. We will get down in Delhi and come back to Ghaziabad. I am sorry". Probably God understood my helplessness and resembling providential intervention, the train slowed again. This was my chance to redeem myself. A God given opportunity. I was pumped up to the extent that I decided to alight from the slow running train ahead of Singh. I reached the door and before I could plan and alight in an organized manner, Singh shouted "Jump"; and I jumped. With the backpack strrapped onto my shoulders I would have looked like a sky diver with a folded parachute on his back jumping from an airplane. I landed on the railway track adjacent to the one on which our train was running. The style, body posture and the impact would have made me look like a wrestler throwing his body weight from atop ropes on a ring on a helpless opponent on the floor. In my case I had 2 opponents - the two railings of the track. I hit one of them with my right knee and the other with my left temple. After a few rolls on the ground to gain balance, I braved the severe pain on my knee to stand on my legs. I was happy that the knee cap had not broken. I looked up and saw with my two eyes that sight which can set to tears even the bravest of warriors. The Siva Ganga Express had stopped and Singh was getting down the train stairs, calm and composed, with great attention to each of his steps. In great shame, despair and gloom I touched my forehead only to feel the gooseberry sized swelling around my left temple.
Moral: Never alight from a running train. Every running train is destined to halt so that passengers can get down without undue acrobatics.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
The bee which almost killed an elephant
Kerala is known for its temples and their annual festivals. All the temples in a particular locality will have their festivals scheduled at almost the same time resulting in an annual festival season. It is the healthy competition among the temples to outperform each other in festivities that results in those grand extravaganzas. No festival is complete without caparisoned elephants and the raging panchavadya. "Make hay while the sun shines" - the sun does shine on pachyderm owners during the festival season. Bigger the pachyderm one owns, higher the demand for you. During the season, elephants are either transported in a lorry or they walk from one temple to another.
Mahadevan, the elephant owned by Pillachettan was pretty much busy in the festival season of 1993. He was a pretty big tusker and was renowned for his looks. His mahout was Kumaran. They made a good team as Mahadevan would carry a drunk Kumaran safely on his back when they are travelling and in return Kumaran would give Mahadevan extra ration of his favourite food, jaggery.
On one such travel, they started pretty late in the day and decided to walk through the night. Our hero, Achayan, a Physics teacher in an English medium school was in his early 30s and was a proud owner of a Java bike - 1981 model. He was an expert when it came to bikes and he used to adjust the "flute" of the silencer to ensure that his bike delivered musical, loud and rhythmic thuds.His Java-1981 model was envied for its sound. Achayan like a stereotype Malayali was an occasional drinker who managed an occasion every evening. On that eventful night Achayan was at the club, played rummy, had brandy & beef and was on his way home. It was around 11 in the night and the omnipresent silence was broken by those loud thuds the Java made - Dhud.. Dhud.. Dhud..
Achayan was comfortably doing 50kmph. The cool breeze blowing on his face complemented with the balmy brandy in his veins had rendered him in a state where his reflexes were a bit slow, eyes half shut and his mind a shade drowsy. Little did Achayan know about Mahadevan, dreaming about his next ration of jaggery, walking ahead of him. Though Kumaran promptly corked his toddy bottle, he forgot to attach the red, circular cycle reflector to that rear position of Mahadevan's thigh which would have been referred to as "bum" had Mahadevan been a biped. Mahadevan, the cheerful being that he is, was keeping good pace occupying in full, a lane of the two lane road. The night was quite dark and Achayan cannot be blamed for not spotting Mahadevan despite the dim glow that his Java-1981 model lavishly supplied. Achayan was enjoying his ride, when all of a sudden he collided against Mahadevan's rear.
As Achayan lost control of his bike, poor Mahadevan lost his sphincter control. For Mahadevan, Achayan on the bike resembled a bee trying to find a way up through his bottom. Surprised, shocked and frightened, poor Mahadevan started on an involuntary run. The quick pace at which the events turned out caught Kumaran unawares and culminated in him being thrown off from Mahadevan's back and a yelling Kumaran landed flat on the road with a thud. Mahadevan continued his run and stopped only when he saw a light, which happened to be coming from a vacant petrol bunk. Pappachan, the night shift employee in the bunk, was taking advantage of the lack of customers and was blissfully sleeping. Probably as an expression of reprieve on having survived an attempt on life by a bee, Mahadevan let out a basso trumpet. Few things can be described as more scary than to be woken up by a trumpeting elephant. Unlike Mahadevan who started a run on a similar life attack from a bee, Pappachan fell unconscious, only to be woken up 3 days later in the hospital.
Mahadevan, the elephant owned by Pillachettan was pretty much busy in the festival season of 1993. He was a pretty big tusker and was renowned for his looks. His mahout was Kumaran. They made a good team as Mahadevan would carry a drunk Kumaran safely on his back when they are travelling and in return Kumaran would give Mahadevan extra ration of his favourite food, jaggery.
On one such travel, they started pretty late in the day and decided to walk through the night. Our hero, Achayan, a Physics teacher in an English medium school was in his early 30s and was a proud owner of a Java bike - 1981 model. He was an expert when it came to bikes and he used to adjust the "flute" of the silencer to ensure that his bike delivered musical, loud and rhythmic thuds.His Java-1981 model was envied for its sound. Achayan like a stereotype Malayali was an occasional drinker who managed an occasion every evening. On that eventful night Achayan was at the club, played rummy, had brandy & beef and was on his way home. It was around 11 in the night and the omnipresent silence was broken by those loud thuds the Java made - Dhud.. Dhud.. Dhud..
Achayan was comfortably doing 50kmph. The cool breeze blowing on his face complemented with the balmy brandy in his veins had rendered him in a state where his reflexes were a bit slow, eyes half shut and his mind a shade drowsy. Little did Achayan know about Mahadevan, dreaming about his next ration of jaggery, walking ahead of him. Though Kumaran promptly corked his toddy bottle, he forgot to attach the red, circular cycle reflector to that rear position of Mahadevan's thigh which would have been referred to as "bum" had Mahadevan been a biped. Mahadevan, the cheerful being that he is, was keeping good pace occupying in full, a lane of the two lane road. The night was quite dark and Achayan cannot be blamed for not spotting Mahadevan despite the dim glow that his Java-1981 model lavishly supplied. Achayan was enjoying his ride, when all of a sudden he collided against Mahadevan's rear.
As Achayan lost control of his bike, poor Mahadevan lost his sphincter control. For Mahadevan, Achayan on the bike resembled a bee trying to find a way up through his bottom. Surprised, shocked and frightened, poor Mahadevan started on an involuntary run. The quick pace at which the events turned out caught Kumaran unawares and culminated in him being thrown off from Mahadevan's back and a yelling Kumaran landed flat on the road with a thud. Mahadevan continued his run and stopped only when he saw a light, which happened to be coming from a vacant petrol bunk. Pappachan, the night shift employee in the bunk, was taking advantage of the lack of customers and was blissfully sleeping. Probably as an expression of reprieve on having survived an attempt on life by a bee, Mahadevan let out a basso trumpet. Few things can be described as more scary than to be woken up by a trumpeting elephant. Unlike Mahadevan who started a run on a similar life attack from a bee, Pappachan fell unconscious, only to be woken up 3 days later in the hospital.
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