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Published: December 28th 2009
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Kurseong Main Street
The train has competition Blow horn. Horn please. Inscriptions on the back of lorries implore every driver. They are not slow to respond. How my father would love the cacophony, he who complains at a second long salutation, an accompaniment to a farewell. Luke, on the other hand, would be in his element, dodging, weaving and blasting the horn. The horns play different tunes at varying decibel rates, vying for first place in splitting your ear-drums. In Delhi recently, schoolchildren embarked on a scheme to paint out Horn Please signs in an effort to combat noise pollution. I don’t like their chances!
The roads, poorly surfaced and greatly potholed, they stretch their dusty way connecting villages and towns. Bullocks, cows, pigs, goats followed by kids, dogs and puppies, pedestrians usually balancing precarious loads, cyclists, bullock carts, cycle rickshaws, auto rickshaws, jeeps as taxis, shiny new government vehicles surging forward with a telltale flag, local buses, trucks and lorries old and new, tourist buses, local buses and private vehicles all vie for dominance.
Discerning the hierarchy has taken a few weeks of observation. Conclusion - those with loudest horn push through and the rest veer away avoiding collisions by mere millimetres. For such a chaotic system
there are remarkably few animal deaths. Whether due to skilful driving, fear of karma, belief in reincarnation or particularly astute dogs it is hard to tell. Vehicle crashes, few and far between, seem to occur on the better-surfaced roads where jeep and bus drivers hurtle through villages at high speed. We came across a white tourist bus slewed across the road between Gaya and Bodhgaya, split like a broken chrysalis, the contents disgorged, some maybe found nirvana before their appointed time.
Driving at breakneck speed on our way to Rajgir our guide and driver’s impassioned conversation, translated, became a tale of rough justice. Only a few days before, on the very same road, an accident caused by an auto rickshaw loaded with at least ten passengers who swerved in front of a lorry resulted in the death of four. The driver and co-driver of the lorry, fearing retribution, took off across the fields to hide. A fortunate choice, for villagers raced in and seeing four dead and two more maimed set fire to the new vehicle with no questions asked. Who did this assist? Certainly not the owner of the vehicle who would claim on insurance and have another on
the road within the week. Certainly not the deceased. Perhaps just a simmering dissatisfaction, a vent to underlying frustrations with road hierarchy.
What alternative does one have to travelling by road? Why trains of course. They connect and intersect the whole nation. 108,513km linking 7.150 stations. We recently spent four hours waiting at one of these for a train to Varanasi. What should have been a short journey turned into a marathon but did offer many people watching opportunities and a chance to savour the attractions of Gaya station. The second class waiting room was a delight. A large unlit hall with dirty marble floors and running rats. We decided standing on the platform was more engaging
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Janette
non-member comment
transport
This has been an insightfull portrayal of the transport issues in India. I really enjoyed reading it love to you and Graeme and have a great 2010!