Train to Bangalore

Today, the Vande Bharat and Shatabdhi occupy the pride of place, when it comes to trains from Chennai to Bengaluru. Turn the clock back by 4 decades. The train that enjoyed such celebrity status was "The Brindavan Express". Brindavan Express lived up to its name. Like foliage lit in the midday sun, the Brindavan Express shone- colored in contrasting shades of bright yellow and green. It started at around 7 in the morning from erstwhile Madras and reached Bangalore by 1 pm.

Memorizing the names of the stations from Madras to Bangalore was easy. Unlike other routes, the prominent stations have stayed the same. The list was short-  Basin-bridge, Arakkonam, Katpadi, Jolarpet, Bangarpet, Bangalore Cantt and finally Bangalore City.

Just after Arakkonam, a childhood fantasy took over- you had to look out of the window for "the fork". One track went straight to Mumbai, while the other swerved to the left to reach Bangalore. It reminded you of Robert Frost's poem- "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel on both!" When on the Dadar Express to Mumbai, just like the poet, you wondered, what if you were on "The Brindavan" and took the left fork? What exotic towns you would pass by, and what awaited you at the destination?

Katpadi Junction, with its township of Vellore, had a different look and feel. A roll of hills greeted you- hills that were mostly bare and pocked with grotestque boulders. You were reminded of the "Train song"- written by Harindranath Chattopadhyay and popularized in a Hindi film by Ashok Kumar- "Rail gaadi chhuk-chhuk-chhuk-chhuk". One of the lines in the song went as follows- "Vaaniyambaadi-Katpadi....Katpadi-Vaaniyambaadi". The names of the stations, in alliterative arrangement, gave the song, a feel of a train on the move- a train that rumbled over vales and hills. It was this Katpadi Junction that supplied text to this epochal song!

Jolarpet- you liked the ring of the station's name. You couldn't be morose and say "Jolarpet". Jolarpet had such a jolly and peppy feel to it- like a horse on a gallop! By the time you reached Bangarpet, you had crossed the border. The script on the station signboards changed from Tamil to Kannada. To some of us, both scripts looked equally foreign, except for a minor detail- if the letters were more curvy, it had to be Kannada, else, it was hopefully Tamil.

The stretch between Jolarpet and Bangarpet had a family centric detail. My maternal grandma had her chain snatched in this sector, during a night-train journey from Chennai to Bangalore. "Why did you sleep with your head by the window, grandma? Did you see the thief's face? Did he look like a villain in the movie, with a moustache and an evil grin?" we pestered grandma. From then on, any train journey, meant following this cardinal rule- "Thou shalt not sleep with your head by the window!" Incidently, grandma managed to get her chain back after weeks of absolute suspense, when she was on tenterhooks! 

Jolarpet to Bangarpet was scenic. It was free from habitation for most parts, the terrain was undulating and dotted with hills, all rock and stone. During the rainy season, you wondered, what if a slippery rock came tumbling down from the hill-top? I asked my sister if such possibilities existed. Her reply was brutally honest, "Yes, we will all become chutney!" 

To someone in Chennai, going to Bangalore was like a trip to Iceland. You prepared for it elaborately. When you got down at Bangalore City, you were more than fully dressed- long sleeves shirt, trousers, a thick sweater, and a monkey-cap. Thankfully, the gloves were finally abandoned- you could always stuff your palms in the pocket, if it got too cold.

Finally, here you were, in the Garden City! The city lived up to its name. A canopy of trees arched over the roads. In summer, the Gulmohar was in bloom and for a tourist, Cubbon Park and Lalbagh couldn't be missed. And yes, it was biting cold- at least, by Mumbai or Chennai standards. 

Some of your favorite Cricketing heroes hailed from Bangalore. There was the master artiste, the wristy GR Vishwanath (GRV) and the wily bowler, BS Chandrashekar. Apparently, Chandra was so mysterious, he himself had no clue, which way the ball would turn! The batsman, of course, had no chance, bamboozled by Chandra's googlies and top-spinners.

GRV was a class-act. He was a thorough gentleman- a veritable Yudhishthira in the big, bad world of Cricket. He recalled an opposing batsman to bat again, after he was declared "out", because Vishwanath was sure, the umpire's decision was incorrect! Bangalore did that to you- a city with a salubrious weather, that ensured that its citizens stayed equally cool, gentle, and amiable. 

Much water has flowed under the bridge- Bangalore can scarcely be recognized now.  

Bangalore of yore stood out as one of the prettiest pictures in your childhood photo-album. As you peruse the album, your fingers rest and caress the picture- it is indeed a throwback...to an earlier, angelic age!