Before you decide to try the new train service in the Kashmir Valley, It is best to perfect your rugby scrum.
“A couple of years ago, no one would pay Rs 1 lakh for an acre here, but today the land goes for upwards of Rs 13 lakh.” The station does look out of place in the landscape but I had to shake my head in disbelief, along with the fellow Kashmiris, as we saw the train chug through the valley.
I managed to make it in time for the afternoon trip of the twice-daily, 66 km journey through Kashmir between the central town of Rajwansheer in Budgam district and the southern town of Anantnag, with Srinagar, 15 km from Rajwansheer, as the focal point station. It is the first operational leg in the ambitious — in every sense — attempt to connect Jammu and Varmul, which is at the northern end of the valley.
I admit to underestimating the sort of excitement that this short journey would arouse among the populace as I watched them in hundreds, rushing to the platform while also craning their necks to have a dekko at the arriving train. In what’s been touted as India’s most intricately designed modern railway station, the thrill was easily palpable. While we can’t dispute that, the train is even sexier.
Unable to get anywhere near the sole ticket counter, I had to indebt myself to the “station master” for getting me a ticket. But handing it over, he pointed out in resignation: “It is up to you to cram yourself into the train.” In addition to the tickets issued to capacity, the train was going to ferry an equal number of enthusiasts who decided they had to travel in the train — with or without the ticket.
Also Read
The wait was agonising, to say the least, and the limits of gravity were truly tested, what with the crowd leaning towards the platform to look out for the train that was yet to depart 15 km away. “You see, that’s the problem with trains, they are always 10 minutes late,” grumbled Rakib, who later revealed that he was a veteran of sorts; that of zero train journeys. The station-master was once again besieged — by both the ticketed and the ticketless — and finally the wireless crackled that the train had escaped a mob at Rajwansheer and was headed for Srinagar.
The whistle shriek of the train aroused wild cheering, resulting in complete chaos and a lathi-swinging exercise, even as the hapless railway police pushed the crowd back from going under the wheels of the train. But what do you do when twice the capacity tries to squeeze into a train already full to its capacity of 720 seats? The police decided to sit back and watch, while jostled out, I finally decided to try my luck at the guard cabin. I managed to squirm inside only to find a guard who was furious because passengers had occupied his own seat!
I was promptly thrown out of the guard cabin at the next station, Pampore, and spying an open door I rushed in to find it was a ladies compartment. I was stuck in it (not that I was complaining) with only two other males, from the railway police, for company. The countryside that whizzed past looked utterly unspectacular, especially since the entire journey was through the flatlands of the valley. Stuffed inside the compartment, with no spectacular views, I wondered how long it would take before the train journey offered us picturesque views of snow-capped mountains.
The scrum was the same at the rest of the stations — Kakapora, Awantipora, Panzgam and Bijbehara. At the final stop in Anantnag, I found myself wedged in the coach, especially as the ladies in the compartment revealed that they had boarded the train as a joyride experience all the way from Rajwansheer. Their joyride meant that I was unable to move an inch towards the door and ended up ticketless on the return leg. The scene got worse as the irrepressible crowd decided to occupy the roof, with a Kashmiri lady commenting dryly: “This reminds me of the time of Partition when people clung on for their lives on trains.”
The journey back to Srinagar was equally eventful. As I got off of the train, I tried to gauge, in the raucous cacophony, any hints of the fact that the valley had virtually been under curfew for the last few months. Thankfully, the problems were a lot simpler when a couple of passengers came up to me to vent their ire: “You Delhi journalists must write that they should have more trains and more ticket counters.”