I ran into several folks with stories to tell during my epic 11,000 kms of travel criss crossing the sub continent this summer.
Bravado in face of terror - The first was a steel company executive who happened to be caught up in the 1980s era hijack incident involving an Indian commercial flight by folks who wanted a separate Khalistan. He narrated this story as we were put on an indefinite hold by Air India in New Delhi waiting for a replacement aircraft on our way to Ranchi.
He along with his fellow occupants of the plane were instrumental in foiling the plans of the attacker and punching his lights out while commandos stormed the plane. He along with the fellow passengers got a minister level welcome home. He was grateful to be alive and seemed to be enjoying life to the fullest. Included boasting about his son in law who had just purchased the latest German sedan in his home in New Jersey. Okay then.
The air hostess also offered warm Coca Cola to pass the time.
Life on the line - The second chat I had was with a Indian Railways signals specialist who was on his way to the work site in Chattisgarh. He asked if he could join me in my First Class coupe on our way to Araku Valley north of Vizag. I was the lone passenger and wanted to pass the time although the scenery outside the window was why I had decided to take this four hour trip.
So after he perched on the seat which I was hogging all to myself I broached about his whereabouts and what not. Turned out he worked for the railways and his assignment involved updating the signaling systems in place - in fact the very ones that were outdated along the very line (or route) we were traveling.
His family was in Vizag and he traveled eight odd hours away to another state to work on the project. He was wary of bringing them there since the local conditions were not amenable to raising a family. It is not the most friendly of states he informed.
On the way I realized I had not put nourishment in the tank and was desperate for something when I found that the only item for sale on a station was pre packed rice and curries.
Bagged. In a thin polyethylene type baggie with a knot to secure the contents. It included butter milk which had reached a cozy 40 degrees Celsius.
Tasted delicious.
Bravado in face of terror - The first was a steel company executive who happened to be caught up in the 1980s era hijack incident involving an Indian commercial flight by folks who wanted a separate Khalistan. He narrated this story as we were put on an indefinite hold by Air India in New Delhi waiting for a replacement aircraft on our way to Ranchi.
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| Breathing on the ground as much time as in the AIR - all Air India |
He along with his fellow occupants of the plane were instrumental in foiling the plans of the attacker and punching his lights out while commandos stormed the plane. He along with the fellow passengers got a minister level welcome home. He was grateful to be alive and seemed to be enjoying life to the fullest. Included boasting about his son in law who had just purchased the latest German sedan in his home in New Jersey. Okay then.
The air hostess also offered warm Coca Cola to pass the time.
Life on the line - The second chat I had was with a Indian Railways signals specialist who was on his way to the work site in Chattisgarh. He asked if he could join me in my First Class coupe on our way to Araku Valley north of Vizag. I was the lone passenger and wanted to pass the time although the scenery outside the window was why I had decided to take this four hour trip.
So after he perched on the seat which I was hogging all to myself I broached about his whereabouts and what not. Turned out he worked for the railways and his assignment involved updating the signaling systems in place - in fact the very ones that were outdated along the very line (or route) we were traveling.
His family was in Vizag and he traveled eight odd hours away to another state to work on the project. He was wary of bringing them there since the local conditions were not amenable to raising a family. It is not the most friendly of states he informed.
On the way I realized I had not put nourishment in the tank and was desperate for something when I found that the only item for sale on a station was pre packed rice and curries.
Bagged. In a thin polyethylene type baggie with a knot to secure the contents. It included butter milk which had reached a cozy 40 degrees Celsius.
Tasted delicious.
 |
| Eat me if you can - getting the little knots was a knotty problem |
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