Stories
1:04 PM
Hoo Chook Chook
[The charming story of a three year old kids's enthusiasm to travel in a train]
My three
years old daughter Esha could be the most mischievous kid on this earth. She
makes everyone breathless at home with her constant pranks and nagging. Roughly
it takes one hour on the part of Esha’s mother to feed her the routine meal.
While feeding the rice and daal her mother makes her ride the bicycle in
the lawn. She narrates different jungle
stories to feed every morsel of grain to Esha. But Esha’s favorite set of
stories are that of trains. She is fascinated by the gigantic diesel
locomotives that pulls the long set of compartments. It is almost three decades
ever since the steam engines has been phased out from the tracks by the Indian
Railways, but even as on this date in common parlance a train is referred to as
“hoo chook chook” by the grand-parents while narrating the stories of trains to
the grand-children.
Esha firmly
believe these trains belong to her Hari Mawa (maternal uncle). Because it is
Hari who do come from Raipur to pick Esha and her mother to take to her maternal
grand-parents home. On return once again it is Hari who drops them back at
Barpali in a train. Esha happen to travel in trains in the dead of the night, because
Puri-Durg Express pass through Barpali at around 2.10AM. As a consequence Esha
never able to enjoy travelling in a train. In the last two years, twice we made
long distance journey in trains. The first one was to Goa and the second one
was to Darjeeling. Since both the occasions were in summer I made the tickets
reserved in the two-tier (second class) air-conditioned berth cars. One way it
takes around 36 hours to travel to these distant places in a train from Odisha.
But Esha unable to enjoy the journey
since the AC compartments are the insulated one. She unable to see the world outside
the train compartment. She had to spend long two days inside the compartment,
as if a kid spends her time in a class-room while obeying to strict discipline
that is being imposed in a school.
Before the onset
of this summer we had our trip to New Delhi. It was the maiden trip of Esha and
her mother to the home of my younger brother Karun who lives at New Delhi. We
traveled in a non-A/C three tier sleeper class compartment. We boarded the Samta
Express at Titilagarh railway station around noon hours. Weather was pleasant.
In sharp contrast to her usual temperament, Esha was jubilant for the reason
she would travel in a train. Prior to catching this train, many nights she
shared with me her wild imaginations about trains.
As we
alighted from one train at Titilagarh for boarding Samta Express Esha picked my
wheel-laden suitcase and pulled it on the platform. I was relieved thinking
Esha is now grown-up and could take her own responsibility in life. Every
by-stander on the platform looked with amusement as she was pulling a suitcase
which might be weighing more than her body weight. While following us one college
girl even took a running video of Esha as if a paparazzi with her smart digital
phone. Her video might have gone viral in the Whatsapp and Facebook by the
commuters. They might have thought, how cruel as the parents of this little girl
don’t even hire a porter to lift the luggage.
At noon hour
we boarded the Samta Express at Titilagarh without much inconvenience. As I was
arranging our luggage beneath the two berths that has been reserved for us,
Esha settled herself near the window and told me “Nana eta mor jaga, mui ene basmi”
(Its my place and I seat over here). From the window she was gazing at the
goods train embarked on the other track. All of a sudden she clapped saying “amar train chala, train chala” (Our
train is moving, its moving). I patted on her shoulder. Even without looking at
me she pushed aside my hand with irritation, as that disturb the pin-pointed
attention with which she was looking at the other train. While holding her chin with my right hand I
turned her head towards the platform on
the other side. Then she realized it is not ours, but the other train which is
moving. She was baffled saying “haaain….”.
Soon our
train left the platform. While keeping alive my personal belief, I turned my
body posture towards the direction the train was heading. I folded my hands and
prayed to my lord to make the journey safe and fruitful.
As the train
galloped at an higher speed there came a spree of hawkers. The first one was a
tea vendor. While shouting “Chai…..chai…..chai….” he keep on walking ahead even
without looking at the commuters. I called him saying “Oye…Chai…chai..”. But he
did not hear me. The second hawker was carrying a bucket full of mineral
waters. But as he saw a kid of three years old, out of the bucket he pulled out
an orange drink bottle to instigate Esha. Moving my eyes I told the vendor to
walk ahead. The third one was a news paper vendor. He did not care to stop
because he knew this girl can’t read any news papers. The fourth one was an
ice-crème vendor. When he saw Esha he stood and loudly said ice crème, ice crème. Esha looked towards me and pointed
her finger towards the ice crème. I had to obey.
[Kendu fruits] |
After a while
an old tribal lady came holding a bamboo basket. She had lot many tattoos all
over her hands and legs. She was vending
a kind of forest fruit called Kendu in Oriya. They looks like chikoo, but small
in size. I wanted to buy them, but Esha denied as she never tasted this kind of
forest fruits. She is one of the species out of the new genre who are being
curtailed from the roots of the mother nature. I asked the lady to give just
one fruit, to which the lady obeyed delightfully. I removed the big seeds it
carry inside it and gave the skin-thick little pulp to Esha to taste. Esha raised her eye-brows
and asked the lady forwarding her little hand “aru de” (give more).
As the train
galloped at a higher pace Esha asked her mother “Maam maam banai de”.
Her mother prepared the milk bottle for her. While holding it, she caught a
sleep on my lap. After two hours our train entered Chattisgarh. Than a boy
entered our compartment holding a chain laced monkey. He was collecting money
from the passengers. When Esha’s mother embraced its head, the monkey jumped to
her lap and set. There was a commotion and Esha waked. Esha wandered who this
on her mother’s bosom. She felt unsecured as her space has been occupied by
someone else. She shouted “tui ja bhaag, eta mor Ma, mor Ma” (You get lost, Its
my mother, my mother). I gave Rs.10/- to that boy and asked to disembark from the
train on the very next halt, to which he obeyed.
At Mahasamund
a TT (Train Ticket Collector) came wearing a black coat to inspect our tickets.
He occupied the seat # 41. Esha was hesitant to look at the TT wearing an
un-friendly black coat. She shouted it’s my seat, you go…. you go…. But the TT
smiled at her and asked, “If it is your seat, than show me your ticket”. She
told in the school bag she kept lot many tickets of varied sizes. The TT asked,
Whose kid is this ? I handed over our ticket and the ID proof to the TT. He verified
the ticket and left saying to Esha “Listen girl I could allow you to travel
without ticket for another two years, until you turn five years”.
At evening
our train reached Raipur. Esha’s grandparents and her Hari Mawa came to station
to meet us. Her Hari Mawa gifted her two plastic jars of chocolates. Her trip
was fruitful even before reaching the destination. At night on finishing
dinner, as a habit she told me lets go up stair and sleep. I asked her, do you
think it’s our home at Barpali. But Esha’s pointed her finger towards the upper
berth. She wanted to occupy the upper berth so as she can play over there. But
I said, “No. It is not safe for youngsters to be there”. She was adamant. While
sobbing she caught the sleep.
It might be 12 past midnight I woke-up to go to the loo. I found Esha was
seating near the feet of her mother, while her mother was sleeping. I asked
Esha, “What is the matter, why don’t you sleep ?”. She said “Shhh……. Am
guarding that airbag”. I asked, why ? She said, her teddy bear is in it, “thief will come and
take away”. I comforted her saying, “even the thief went to sleep, it is only
you who is awake”. I patted on her back until
she caught the sleep.
While at home
she need to be awake every morning for going to school. But in the train she
wake-up herself early next morning, just to play around. Since this train don’t
have a pantry-car at Mathura station I got down to buy two plates of lunch. The
man on the counter delayed to dispense the change. The train started moving.
Esha was watching me from the window. She started shouting “Nana jaldi asa
train jauche, train jauche” (Father come fast, the train is moving, its
moving). I ran holding two disposable plates carrying food in it. I able to safely
enter the compartment. By the time I went to our seat Esha was loudly sobbing “mor
Nana rahigala, Nana rahigala” (my father left, my father left), while her
mother and the co-passengers were trying to console her. Never before I had
seen her either crying or searching for me.
At evening our
train reached Nizamudhin Railway Station of New Delhi. Esha’s Karun Chachu came
to receive us. We disembarked from the train. Like the rest of the passengers I
pulled the luggage, but Esha carried home the rich experience that she gathered
from this Ohh Chuck Chuck journey. For next couple of days, she keep on
narrating about this train journey to her cousin brothers Jay and Om while at
New Delhi.
WhatsApp# +918249314972
E.KIRAN MOHAN(The writter)
C\o. Dr.E.R.Rao (M.D),
Tehsil Chowk,
At\PO – BARPALI – 768 029,
Dist.
Bargarh, Odisha, India.