The Train from Kanpur

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.