Night Train

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The train was due to leave at 23.15 and we were deposited by hotel car at the station at 22.45. Over the bridge to platform 2, where the Jodhpur Express was awaiting departure. Or rather as indeed most of it was. That is, all but our AC3 ( air conditioned 3 tier bunk sleeper) carriage. We weren't alone in waiting for said carriage, both tourists and locals alike. There was a sleeper carriage with names posted at its entrance but not ours. 23.15 came and went . There were near empty “general” carriages but we weren't allowed in them. The reason? Because we had paid 130Rps for AC3 and not 50 Rps for general. That was the regulation. We had not bought a general ticket. We could go and buy such a ticket if we wanted but why, when there will be an AC3. When? A shrug of the shoulders said it all, in what ever language or dialect. Not his problem, he’s just the ticket collector. We were assured an AC3 WILL arrive and WILL be added to the train at platform 2.

The train standing on platform 1 was the Royal Rajisthan Railway. Its green and gold carriages were, in contrast to any other trains we have seen, opulent. Although blinded at each window, through doors, large pictures could be seen on bulkheads. This was India's Orient Express where one boards and lives for a week or two, virtually cocooned from Indian life.

Out of the darkness, to the long sonorous hoot, emerged a headlight and an engine which charged into life. Up the track it drove and with busying torches, said engine returned on the line serving Platform 2, to kiss gently the end carriage of the train with such fondness, only the carriage at the end knew it was to be conjoined. Fervent movement between carriages, another long hoot into the darkness and the last 3 carriages were almost silently taken away, as if to give a view to those sleeping in the air conditioned glamour of the RRR. Then, as if on cue, again for the benefit of those on the RRR, rural life hove into view as a holy calf sauntered along the newly vacated section of railway. No faces showed from any of the blinded windows which remained steadfastly resolute in their silence, no doubt stifling sound snoring behind them. Receiving no attention, the bovine would-be-star returned whence he came, as did the 3 carriages from a darkened line elsewhere; though now with the elusive AC3 triumphantly heading the entourage, to be coupled to the not so fast express to Jodhpur. Given its delay, one would forgive the fact that the name list would not be present. Paradoxically, in that someone must have known where AC3 lay on the rails, it appeared, resplendent with the printed list of names of those waiting to get their heads down, fall asleep and be on their belated way to Jodhpur where we arrived in the early morn of Wednesday.

Meandering through the many supine sleepers stirring on the station floor for the start of their day, we dropped our bags once more at the clock room to the usual duplicate official form filling to which we have become accustomed, and all for a 10 Rps (15p) charge!

A day in Jodhpur and then onward, on another sleeper, this time to Agra and the Taj Mahal

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