Traveling in India can be challenging. Especially if you did not reserve the train ticket (obviously that would be challenging everywhere!)But of course, I am now going to tell you about two ways how to be able to take the train anyway.
You can either buy an unreserved ticket directly at the train station (so called chalu ticket) and either sit where you are supposed to (if you manage to sit at all!) into the crowded general class. Or
The other option is to travel without a ticket at all. Less struggle, in my opinion.
I just traveled from our 'base' on Gokarna (we have stayed there for the past three months) which is in South India to Jaipur, in the North. Since I left my hubbie back in Gokarna, I experienced a whole new dimension of traveling- I now travel in the ladies coach. Well, it's true women can be more pushy, arrogant, they even fight harder than their husbands. But at least they do not stare at me, what is more, they do not touch me. In fact, they just leave me alone most of the time.
So, here we are, in Jaipur, on Holi- a festival of colors (when the good wins over the evil). Hence I expected an overcrowded train station and even more jammed trains to the South. Quite the contrary was the truth- lucky me!
The Jaipur station was completely deserted. I even bothered to buy the ticket this time! (less people therefore I am more noticeable for random checks). My Venezuelan friend accompanied me from the hotel to the station. He sat near the queue where I went to buy the unreserved ticket.
After I returned from the queue he told me in an amusement:
“Diana, now what did you just do! You just fought your way to the counter skipping the queue! I've never seen anything like that!”
Well if you do not want to be touched all over and also want to avoid the hour or two of a meaningless waiting, you must do what you must do… fight your way into the counter! Besides, I keep writing on my blog how in India I am many times mistreated as a foreigner; e.g. have to pay the tourists prices- hence 10 times, sometimes 25 times higher prices! Or am banned from certain temples only because of my skin color! Therefore let me have some benefits of being a foreigner in India from time to time.
The train just passed a bridge, crossing a small river. On its banks was a group of young Indians, all covered in Holi colors. They cheerfully shouted at the train (I did not know that the sound of the human voice can carry such distances! ) It was this childish behavior Indians often express. The behavior which is in a way cute, and sometimes can get annoying.
My English friend said that Holi is a child's game, for the Indians who never grow up. While saying this, I watched his face covered in colors which he playfully received just minutes ago from his friends.
Well if you do not want to be touched all over and also want to avoid the hour or two of a meaningless waiting, you must do what you must do… fight your way into the counter! Besides, I keep writing on my blog how in India I am many times mistreated as a foreigner; e.g. have to pay the tourists prices- hence 10 times, sometimes 25 times higher prices! Or am banned from certain temples only because of my skin color! Therefore let me have some benefits of being a foreigner in India from time to time.
The train just passed a bridge, crossing a small river. On its banks was a group of young Indians, all covered in Holi colors. They cheerfully shouted at the train (I did not know that the sound of the human voice can carry such distances! ) It was this childish behavior Indians often express. The behavior which is in a way cute, and sometimes can get annoying.
My English friend said that Holi is a child's game, for the Indians who never grow up. While saying this, I watched his face covered in colors which he playfully received just minutes ago from his friends.
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| Lady washing her clothes on the tracks. |
The half empty train is entering the night as I watched last women boarding our coach. Their husbands bring their luggages, make sure the wives found their seats, then a last reminder of where the water bottle is packed, and then, with a heavy heart, they leave. And she keeps looking out of the window, already missing him. Occasionally, some of the couples touched hands in farewell. An old couples, most likely in an arranged marriages, however after so many years there is the dependency on each other, oven love. I find it so romantic… the train is leaving the station and the man comes home, where his wife left a dinner for him; she probably cooked enough chapatis to last him a week. He might glance at the food but disappointed he has got no one to share the dinner with, leaves the house for the local bar. He will eat the chapatis later.
It's the morning after, and I am realizing how much I love the cities in the morning. Because of the pollution the high rise buildings are partly covered in gray clouds, and a lazy, orange sun is trying to jump through them. The city seems slow, not yet fully awake. The sounds are softer and the people are still sleepy.
Mumbai is no different. It wakes up a bit later then what we are used to back in Europe. I love the Indian cities in the mornings.
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| This is no Mumbai. This is Madurai. But equally beautiful |
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