March 23, 2012
The Mangalore Express left Thiruvananthapuram Central Station platform number 1 as scheduled at 8:40pm on Friday. We three, Achan, my yougest uncle and I were in coach B1 A/C three tier.
The seat positions were the ones euphemistically referred to as "bath attached" in the railways parlance. Luckily, in the a/c coaches there is a door that separates the perpetually stinking Indian train toilets from the seating area. Sharing our coupe were couple of businessmen from Vadakara, a laconic gentleman who alighted next early morning at Shornur and the ticket examiner.
The air conditioning took its sweet time to get going. The senior member of the Vadakara business team protested. "They think we don't know science. The a/c runs from train battery which must always be fully charged. It gets recharged when the train moves through dynamo effect. But that doesn't mean a/c can't work till train gathers speed." None of this science helped. It took a couple of hours before the compartment cooled. But as if to make up for the delayed start, it felt like Antarctica by midnight!
The man from Vadakara used to work for the government public works department. He still has that job and will rejoin a couple of months before retiring so that he will get the retirement benefits. Till then he is busy running own construction business in Thiruvananthapuram, Vadakara and Doha. "I married off my two daughters, now I should enjoy life!" We didn't ask about his wife.
Though we switched off the lights and tried to sleep by 9:30, the upper berth experience I revisited after 12 years was more than disturbing. I kept waking up startled by the train noises. Images of possible accidents flashed by in dreams. It was like being rocked to sleep by a terrible giant. The squealing, roaring, rhythmically beating locomotion was far from conducive. Add to that plenty of movement in the coach as people got in and got out at Kottayam, Kochi and Thrissur. I wondered how I used to sleep peacefully during the long train journeys from Mumbai back home.
Gave up all attempts to find sleep by 3:30 am. The expected arrival time at Kozhikode was 6 am. After Shornur, the train goes through towns by the side of Bharathapuzha. Since everyone else was still sleeping, I sought refuge in the ticket examiner's seat after he got down at Shornur. A lady headed to Pattambi had also woken up and shared that seat. She was reading Wilbur Smith's "Those in Peril". Since tales of attacks on women in trains have been on the rise in Kerala, I braced to defend her just in case any potential attacker showed up. Not that it looked like she needed any assistance. She could easily take on a couple of villains. We were certainly entering the territories of the old "Vadakkan paattu" (northern songs)of north Malabar that feature women well versed in martial arts.
Me standing at the door wearing double folded "lungi" and shoes provided enough entertainment for the early morning passengers waiting at Pattambi station. The pre-dawn sky was gorgeous. Unobstructed view of the black dome studded with infinite stars. My thoughts turned to the "passage of infinity" and the Kerala school of mathematics. Thrithala, Koodallur, Kuttipurram...we were passing through the shores of Bharathapuzha were ancient wisdom and sciences flourished in Kerala. The growth of mathematics through the astronomical need to approximate. If only ordinary languages insisted on explicitly announcing their approximate nature just as honestly as mathematics does...
After Thirur comes Feroke. Once Farookhabad, the Malabar capital of Tipu Sultan, the Brits shrunk the name to Feroke. A young man who recently broke his hand in a motorbike accident thanks to the wonderful condition of Kerala roads needed assistance in getting his bags down to the station. By this time Achan and uncle were up and had joined me at the door. The businessman from Vadakara had brushed and started his morning Muslim namaz on the foldable bed meant for the train technician near the door. I don't know how one determines the direction towards Mecca in a morning train. As far as I could see, right in front of him was the backside of the young man with the broken hand. I guess prayers have deep penetrating capacity!
Kozhikode railway station promptly at 6 am. The station is on the way to becoming a national model station thanks to E. Ahmad who represents Kozhikode in the Lok Sabha. Gigantic hoardings of Manorama and Mathrubhumi newspapers welcome visitors to "the capital of Malabar" as they step out of the railway station.
Autorickshaw to the bus stand. The ride took us through the Kozhikode market which was already bustling with activity. A traffic jam at 6:10 am! Fruits and spices shops aplenty. Mini mountains of pineapple piled up at the store fronts. A dental hospital on the upper floor. A shop with "Burma" in its title reminding us of the centuries old shipping and trade heritage of Kozhikode market.
6:15 bus stand. Rs. 19.50 on the rickshaw meter. The driver asked for that amount, not the extra 10 bucks approximation that drivers in Thiruvananthapuram demand. 6:30 Kerala State Road Transport Corporation's bus to Mananthavadi via Kalpatta, our destination.
Unlike the busy market, rest of Kozhikode city was still sleeping. The bus sped through Mavoor road towards Kunnamangalam which now has an Indian Institute of Management. The journey moves north instead of east from here and passes through Madavoor on the way to Thamarassery.
"Thamarassery Churam", those words have forever been scorched in the memory of hundreds of thousands of Malayalam cinema lovers by the immortal comedian Pappu. The pass that starts from Thamarassery is the original route up to Wayanad, the high table land, from the plains of Kozhikode. Though there is no official toll anymore, there is a place nearby still called Thamarassery Chungam (tax).
The steep, twisting ascend of the road begins at a place rightly called Adivaram (valley bottom). From here, it is 13 kilometers to Lakkidi. We climb couple of thousand feet through 9 hairpin curves. These aren't sissy hairpins but hardcore ones which can be negotiated by buses only by going to the wrong side of the road.
Breathtaking views. Dense forests on either side. Thick, twisted vines. Innumerable leaf patterns. The bus engine pants and puffs at every turn. The road is a brilliant bituminous black and thankfully very well maintained. Petty shops at the hairpin bends. Billboards that seem a little strange in their placement location. Why would anyone think about doing a computer course while ascending a mountain pass?! A few adventurous motorcyclists insist on speeding. A private bus driver showed off by overtaking our bus in this narrow, tough route.
At Lakkidi, the pass officially ends and the roads instantly turn back to Indian standard of pothole damage. We have reached Wayanad, the least populated district of Kerala where the density of population is nearly one third of the state average.
The 13 kilometer climb took a full 45 minutes for our bus, so the driver sped up again to Vythiri. The road condition drastically improves. Vythiri is home to a resort now made famous by its youtube videos. I was surprised to find a Cafe Coffee Day here. A huge hotel management institute towers as an eye sore among the lovely hills that surround the region.
Our final destination was the Green Gates hotel. We had been instructed to get down at Kalpatta civil station. Civil stations are the administrative headquarters of the district government. Wayanad which saw a very high rate of farmer suicide few years back has managed to bring those numbers down by some aggressive government intervention. 36% of the population here are tribals. Waves of immigration of Jains (10-13th century), Hindus (14th century), Muslims (17th century) and Christians (1950s) populated the pristine hills of Wayanad. After Srirangapattanam truce, Tipu Sultan handed over the control of the region to the British who brought heavy cash crop farming just like they did in Idukki.
The bus conductor, who was wiry and energetic enough to have married Rajnikanth's daughter had he been born in Tamil Nadu, was a bit displeased with our slowness in getting down. We were directed to an old peepal tree from where Green Gates was 50 meters. 8:45am waiting at the reception!
No comments:
Post a Comment