For those who want to see God

Rab Tethon Vakh Nahi
Tai-yon Denda Dakh Nahi
Teri Vekhan Waali Akh Nahi

(God is within you, but you can't see, because you don't have the eyes to see him)

the tiger that roams free

am i the moon waxes and wanes?
am i the wanderer in search of a destination?
am i the son that everyone wishes i should be?
am i the guy that the woman wishes i was?

why am i bound to my desk?
why should i come home each night?
why should i not lie on the grass and look at the stars?
why am i not the tiger that roams free?

Never Tear Us Apart...

Don't ask me, What you know is true Don't have to tell you, I love your precious heart
I.... I was standing You were there, Two worlds collided
And they could never tear us apart

We could live, For a thousand years
But if I hurt you, I'd make wine from your tears
I told you, That we could fly 'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why
I......... I was standing You were there, Two worlds collided
And they could never ever tear us apart

(Michael Hutchence)

Chunnu Padhta Diamond Comics

Like most kids, I too was a big fan of comics. In my childhood, good foreign comics were hard to come by. Our exposure to Superman, Spiderman and He-man was limited to evening cartoons on DD. Most of the comic book diet was made up of Indian fare with the occasional Archie or DC/Marvel comic procured from the flea market. Back in our days there were quite a few publishing houses of which the prominent ones were Diamond, Raj, Manoj & Tulsi. Diamond and Raj survive to this day, while I do not know much about the fate of Tulsi & Manoj.

Diamond was ofcourse the most popular with its chief characters like Chacha Choudhary, Saboo, Raman, Billoo, Pinky etc. These I used to like only when I was very young as the humor was very simple and as I grew it became childish. Diamond however, also published more 'serious' comics like Fauladi Singh (a masked superhero who fights space invaders) and his pocket sized sidekick Lambu Singh. I used to be a big fan of this character specially because of his laser guns and rocket ships. Another Diamond plus was its Sunday afternoon radio show on AIR Vividh Bharti which I think continues to this day. The program used to be based on forthcoming Diamond comics and the voices often presented very dramatic and exciting (for a child of my age) previews of the next week's issues. . And who can forget the famous jingle, "Chunnu Padtha Diamond Comics, Munni Padhti Diamond Comics, Mazedaar Hai Diamond Comics".


This used to be followed by a trip to Vinod's or Dholki's (our neighbourhood comic stores) from where we used to rent the latest comics for Re. 1 per comic per day. Since it was a big dent on our weekly allowance (5 rupees a week back then) the money used to be split between cousins and friends.

Manoj comics was the other big publisher with characters like Inspector Manoj, Ram - Rahim etc. Its characters were inspired by Amar Chitra Katha / Tinkle & Diamond Characters (Ram - Rahim were their answer to Diamond's Rajan - Iqbal). But my all time favorite Manoj Character was 'Crook Bond' a bumbling detective with a robotic car (much like Q's) piloted by 'Mr. Hol-dol' a robot who sat on the bonnet much like the Rolls-Royce marquee.

Some years later Raj Comics hit the market and became instantly popular. Its artwork and story lines were clearly inspired by Western DC / Marvel comics. Its first two superheros Nagraj and Super Commando Dhruv became overnight stars and for that day and age the quality of artwork and stories were incredibly good. Then came a slew of new heroes and sub-heros like Doga, Bhokal, Inspector Steel, Fighter Toads etc. which were to a large extent inspired by western characters. While Steel was clearly lifted from Robocop, Bhokal was He-manesuqe in origin while the Fighter Toads were clearly the Ninja Turtles right down to their sewer home.

Tulsi had very much a B-grade lineup with mediocre stories and characters, the most prominent was Tausi, a sort of rip-off on Raj Comic's Nagraj. But the titles for which I used to lust the most was Indrajaal - published by the Times of India Group which were mainly Hindi translations of International comics like Phantom, Mandrake, Flash Gordon, Garth etc. and ofcourse Phantom (or Vetaal) in Hindi was my hot favourite.

Amar Chitra Katha has remained an eternal favourite as well, and even today I can't resist digging into the adventures of Shikari Shambhu (so much so that I have named Bangalore Traffic Cops after him) and Suppandi. Kaaliya the crow - Chamataka the Jackal, Doob Doob the croc... the names just keep rolling.

But I don't know if any of you remember Daku Pan Singh, a Robin Hood type bandit who gained mighty powers after eating a made by who else but a trusted sidekick. Then there was Lot-comics, low on paper quality but high on laughter content. The characters had names like Motu-Patlu, Ghasita Ram. Madhu Muskan magazine had Uncle Ji and an US return accented nephew who used to take his happiness, while now defunct Target magazine had Gardhab Daas.

Most of these names have vanished now, and the Indian comic industry is stuck in a time warp. Of the surviving ones Chacha Choudhary comics are stale and hardly evince any laughter, while Raj Comic characters have either become cheap or the story lines have become downright ridiculous. For serious comic book buffs, there is nothing left and the children of today either read sex or violence packed American ones or Japanese manga easily available in supermarkets now.

Wish I could go back to those days, wish I could lay my hands on some Indrajaal comics and what would I not do to read Daku Pan Singh all over again. Sometimes I wish the kids of today had much more to do than Internet, Pokemon & WWE !!

Gold

ribbons of gold flow into the distance as the dying sun sets fire to the sky

Meenakshi Redux Part 2: The Metric Goddess

Continued from Part One

Ahead lay the longest possible meter gauge journey by a single train in India – a run of 1148km to Purna spread over 32 hours by the 9769 Meenakshi Express. Settling down cabin C of the solitary 2A coach, we eagerly awaited the start which came 2 minutes past the scheduled departure of 1200hrs.

Our first halt was Kishangarh, and then on we headed towards Phulera (FL) where the first of our three crossings with the opposite Meenakshi took place. Next up was Ajmer and we swept through the suburbs on the famed curve halting briefly at the outer. Since, the Meenakshi carried a full fledged pantry (the only one on MG across IR), we were expecting to be served lunch at Ajmer, but this was not to be. Meal service began only at dinner time and till then it was only chai and snack service. A hunt on the platform stalls revealed that I would again be served with my by now favourite dish – what else but PS!!!!!!!! The post lunch ride took us past the Cantonment town of Nasirabad and other halts like Gulabpura.

The 4th occupant of our cabin was a serviceman on his way to Khandwa. The fellow was either the reserved type or had been driven past the end of his wits by the incessant cackle of three excited railfans with the cramped confines of a MG 2A cabin. Whatever, be the reason the chap was fast asleep and our banter ranged from the weird to the downright corny and every thing in between. At Mandal, one station before the textile town of Bhilwara we waited a long time for a crossing train before making our way through a surfeit of semaphores that guarded the station’s entrance.

Past Bhilwara, the sun fell rapidly and with that the spirits rose as the aperitifs for the evening were brought to the party along with a motley collection of hors d'oeuvres stocked up at Jaipur. While we were at it, our train docked in at Chittaurgarh where the Phulera loco gave way to another YDM4 from Mhow, which would haul our train right up to Purna. Dinner was served at Chittaur as well, which consisted of freshly cooked on board paranthas, dal, veggie, curd and pickle along with fried rice which was part of the peshal’ (special) thali. The regular thali got staid boiled rice of course. The food, served piping hot was excellent, much better than the fancy meals served on board the Rajdhanis. In fact, all three of us readily admitted that it was perhaps the best meal we had eaten aboard a train in a long time, and that too in a godforsaken MG pantry in the back of beyond!!

Nimbahera was next, where a longish halt for a crossing under the bright full moon proved to be a fantastic opportunity for me to take some night shots of freight MG stock. Next up was Neemuch, where we eagerly awaited the ghosts of Diwali past. We were on the door even before the train halted and a quick scan in the moonlit yard revealed the looming figures of Mohan’s ghosts and we were off. Sprinting across the track we climbed the platform and setup our cameras to reel off shots in whatever light that was available. The 3 YGs had been left there to rust in peace except when disturbed by the hoops of gone-loco rail fans jumping around like monkeys at mealtime.

As we pulled away, a toast was called in the honour of the rusting beauties and the party continued into the night past Mandasor. Alarms were set for 0400 hours and they rand just as the Goddess pulled into the suburbs of Indore past Lakshmibai Nagar. It was fairly chilly at that hour and a hot cuppa chai was called for. On the platform, a whole platoon on young NCC cadets lay sprawled on the platform sleeping uncomfortably as we prepared for the most exciting stretch of our journey.

A short run later we pulled into Mhow, a good 1 hour late. Dawn was breaking in the eastern sky as a YDM4 swung into action detaching 7 coaches from the formation and then leaving them into a siding before reattaching the SLR to reduce our rake length to 12 coaches. Correspondingly, ours became the second last coach in the consist and we looked forward to the Choral gorge while chomping away on freshly made Poha and chai. The ghost of PS was past or so I thought.

We were now waiting for Patalpani – where the water touched the deepest darkest depths of the earth and just as Mohan had predicted, the place was as beautiful as beautiful could get. The sun rose in the east while the moon set in the west and we could see them out of the left and right doors of the coach respectively.

Patalpani is the first of the brake testing halts as the Meenakshi prepares to tackle near vertical slopes of the Malwa plateau. The first of the 41% grades hit immediately past the starter and a few hundred meters ahead we were presented with a breathtaking view of the magnificent Patalpani waterfalls which were in full flow dropping from a height of more than 150ft. The depth of the pool into which the waters falls is allegedly unfathomed and folklore says it reaches Patal-Lok or the Netherworld.

From then on the journey was sheer magic, a journey that would stay imprinted in my memory till my dying day. The Meenakshi rumbled through cuttings, tunnels, thickets and valleys stopping for brake testing halts along the way. The sun rose over the misty Choral valley and the river gurgled far below on the valley floor. On a spectacular curve, just before the tunnel we halted. Part of the train was on a magnificent viaduct and the loco had stopped right next to a waterfall rolling down the hillside. The sun burned bright between the green leaves and the sight that unfolded before me was far more beautiful than what a camera could ever hope to capture.

The Choral accompanied us throughout our traverse through the valley and we reached Kala Kund, where a board under the home semaphore announced the end of the Ghat section. The mountainside however, was not going to leave us anytime soon, nor was the river Choral. It flow more or less parallel to us for quite a distance and crossed us again near the eponymous station. Beyond that, till Mukhtiara Balwada, we scampered through hill and valley across tight curves making for one of the loveliest mornings in recent memory. At Mukhtiara Balwada, we waited for a crossing train and in the process discovered more ancient rails on the loop line. These rails too were built by Barron Steel of England for BB&CI Railway way back in 1898!!!

As the sun grew hotter, we slunk back the comforts of our cabin waiting for Khandwa to arrive and along with it breakfast. The two bit town that Khandwa is, the meals were equally two bit and there I was suffering PS again for the 5th time in 36 hours. After that the train took a sweeping curve past Khandwa town, gaining height in the process and crossing the CR mainline and onwards to Akola. We chilled in the cabin, waiting for the next highlight – namely the Dhulghat spiral. This is the only one of its kind in India outside the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway and is marked the sight of a tall viaduct as we approach it from the Khandwa side.

My handycam was ready and whirring as we went under the viaduct and into a sharp left handed curve right through a narrow cutting gaining height by one meter for every hundred we travelled forward. Soon we found ourselves on top of the very viaduct we passed a few minutes back and then curved left again heading south.

There is a tunnel shortly after the spiral and one after Wan Road station as well. There are several tall viaducts on this section and one – very aptly named ‘Amphitheatre’ (spelled Amphetheter) provides a stunning view of the plains below which eerily resemble the Serengeti Savannah !! Several local stuntmen showed of their daring but stupid skills as they crawled their way up the side of the coach on to the roof and then walking the length of the train as it wound down its course down the hills.

We crossed the Tapti near Tukaithad and also the Narmada before Khandwa which were the two major rivers along the way. Akola was the next major station (and our second tryst with catenary) on the way and we spent less than a minute on the platform as it was baking hot outside. We departed Akola alongside the Geetanjali to Howrah on the BG. We quickly climbed the ramp and across the BG to continue our southerly course. Having been treated to another excellent meal by the pantry, and having been up since 4AM, we decided to go for a nap.

The plan was the get up near Washim for the Penganga crossing, but alas my fatigue ruled and I got just before Hingoli Deccan, the erstwhile boundary of the Nizam’s Railway. Sings of conversion to BG were omnipresent past Hingoli, with cuttings being widened, sleepers lining trackside and pre fabricated concrete sections for bridges being readied. The plan is to convert the MG from Purna to Hingoli and then on to Akola, providing another route south.


Light fell past Hingoli, and it was time to party again. This time, it was a toast tinged with sadness as our journey neared its end and with it came the realization that soon this would all be history. The pantry served its delightful fare for one final time and we finished our meal just as we pulled up to Purna outer. As we waited, the Devagiri from Secundrabad went past on the BG side we followed it in shortly. At Purna, India’s premier MG train was pulled directly on to the siding even when a platform was available. Perhaps no one wanted to shunt the rake from the platform anymore. Perhaps no one cared for her anymore. No one but 3 nutcases who had travelled all the way from Jaipur, much to the amusement of the staff and fellow passengers.

We made our way into the town in search of a beer, but beat a hasty retreat 200 meters past the station. Purna unfortunately was not even a one pony town. We decided to stick to the familiar comforts of the railway station as we waited for our respective trains.

Vivek and Sanyog were due to take the Nanded – Daund passenger to Manmad and then on to Mumbai, while I was to take the Link express to Parbhani which would attach to the Manmad – Secundrabad Express. My train was a 3 coach affair and the tiny rake was doing 100kmph within minutes of leaving Purna and we reached Parbhani in no time at all. In fact The Daund passenger was waiting at Parbhani despite leaving half an hour before mine. Me and Vivek indulged in an yelling-across-the-platform-conversation, before their train started again.

Having had an early dinner, my tummy was growling again and Parbhani too, held aloft the PS banner high and once again I was digging into oily Pooris convincing myself that this would be just about the last time in my life I would be having PS.

After a fitful night’s sleep on the uneven halves of a side lower berth, I was glad to find myself at Vikarabad Jn. in the morning. An agonizing hour and a half later I am greeted by Bharath Moro and PVS at Secundrabad. PVS asks me what I want for breakfast and I guess you know the answer by now – anything but #$%^^ PS !!!!

Meenakshi Redux Part 1: Of Thunderbolts & Flying Chairs

On a cool September evening, I changed from a shirt, tie, collar into standard railfanning gear; hefted my rucksack and caught an auto to Delhi Cantt. (DEC) station. The mission: to catch the last passenger to Rewari and thence to Jaipur. I reached DEC with plenty of time to spare and that allowed me to stock up on essential supplies and also to catch a quick snack in the form of Poori - Subzi (Bhaji) henceforth referred to as PS.

Pretty soon, the 9RD to Rewari pulled in. Following the closure of the MG line to Rewari (RE), NR introduced several new passenger services to RE on BG to compensate for the extra rush on BG. These new passengers run 23-24 coaches and are easily the longest passenger trains on IR. Surprisingly, the train was near empty - even on a weekday. Normally these trains run as packed as Virar locals, but then who was I to complain. I found myself a nice door in the 3^rd coach and planted my butt on the footboard as the WDP3A chugged off in true Alco style.

The 78 odd kilometer run to Rewari has more than a dozen halts and we crossed quite a few trains on the way. At Patli we pulled into the loop line and I got off on the right side. I could see a dipped headlamp of a waiting Alco at the home signal on the Rewari end which went on high beam just as the semaphores dropped to give it a clear run to Delhi. Though the loco was nearly half a mile away, I could hear the V16 roared to life as the driver pulled through the notches and the turbo spun viciously as sparks flew thick from the exhaust. As it entered the station, the chief the whistle rip and the WDM3A from Tughalkabad blasted through the station accelerating rapidly with the Shatabdi from Ajmer in tow. As the train flashed past me, the growling generator van provided a fitting finale to this amazing son et lumière.

Rewari arrival was 40 minutes late and the crowd of tired commuters slowly melted away into the darkness as I sauntered out of the station in search of food and drink. The need for the second item on the list was solved by the discovery of a shop which announced itself as "Govt. Approved compound for the consumption of liquor". In common tongue it translated into a shop that was permitted its customers to consume the booze within the premises unlike most Indian liquor stores.

I bought myself a bottle of Thunderbolt "Super Strong Beer" and went inside only to be greeted by the filthiest dump imaginable. A small room, barely 10' X 12' was littered all over with empty cigarette packs, broken bottles, wrappers and pan stains covering every square inch. In a dark corner sat a few men who had been drinking heavily and the murmurs of an impeding argument were creeping across the room. As I was getting the boy to clean the mess the murmurs grew into heavy cuss words and just as I tipped over the bottle for my first sip, a plastic chair flew across the room and whacked me square on the side of my head!!! I spun around letting loose some choice curses of my own but the culprit was already being held down by his companions who muttered apologies in slurred Haryanvi.

Soon it became clear that the chair was not meant for me, but flung by the poor man out of frustration against his wife who had decamped earlier in the day with her lover. Feeling sorry for the man, I downed my not so cold beer, which was soon succeeded by a super cold one. Reeling from the quick intake of two stiff beers, I staggered out to find all food joints closed as it was way past midnight. Seeing no other option I made my way into the station and found a vendor serving piping hot PS. Accentuated by the beer, my hunger saw me wolf down nearly a dozen pooris as the rake of my onward train the Shekhawati Express to Jaipur was shunted on to the MG platforms.

Clambering aboard the solitary AC coach, a composite 1A/2A sleeper, I found a rotund lady sprawled all over my designated berth. The TTE followed me in, and the lady requested that she be allotted that coupe while I could choose another for myself as the whole coach was empty. As the train departed at 0108, it became clear that Railway staff outnumbered the passengers 1:4 in coach HA1.

Having deposited my luggage a nice cold cabin, I headed to the door and lit up a smoke. The loco up ahead set up a cracking pace as it had to cover the first 50km to Mahendragarh in a scheduled 48 minutes and that too with a 17 coach load!! However, the combined effects of the thunderbolts and the flying chair ensured that I was snoring away contentedly in the confines of my cabin much before that.

The route to Sikar is full of grades but the Owange loco from Phulera made light work of it thanks to the meagre load. The recent spell of heavy rain in North & North West India had ensured that the temperatures stayed on the pleasant side of things. The countryside too wore a verdant cloak of green, and for a change you see a much more than the babul, kikar or cactus. We pulled into Sikar about very much on schedule, and I had a piping hot chai there while we waited for a crossing train.

It was nearly 5 minutes since the freight had come in and 40 minutes past the scheduled departure, but still no one seemed to be in a hurry to get anywhere. A few more minutes later, an elderly gent climbed up this lovely signal box set up on the platform and pulled the designated levers to set the points for our train to the mainline. After this, he picked up the token ring and strolled casually up to the loco and handed it over and soon enough the train started, 52 minutes after it had pulled in. Had a Swiss watchmaker been aboard the train would have had multiple heart attacks by now, but then this was India and this was MG and this was exactly why I was there.

At Ringus, I hopped off to get some breakfast, and the options available were limited
to nothing but good old PS!! Since the stomach was grumbling, I gobbled it up quickly with a chai. The run to Jaipur was pretty uneventful, with a stray crossing or two and the generous slack time allotted meant that we reached Dauhar-Ka-Balaji in the suburbs of Jaipur, with plenty of time to spare.

Entering Jaipur, I was met the platform by Vivek Manvi & Sanyog Deshpande from Mumbai, who had taken different routes to get to Jaipur. Vivek had flown in from
Mumbai, while Sanyog had had an adventure of his own - first on the Shatabdi to Ahmedabad and then on the Ashram to Jaipur. A shower in the retiring room later, we were back on the platform to stock up on supplies for the long haul ahead.

Continued in Part 2