The bird leaves its nest...

...alights in Mumbai.
Well, the title and the phrase above form a sentence. But then, its much more than just a sentence to me. This is the first leg of the my journey, when the wind ruffled my feathers, when my wings had to prove their worth.

I don't wish to term myself as a religious fanatic, but if the word fanatic implies that I had an 'excessive and single-minded zeal', I guess the term is apt. It had been a long time spent with ISKCON. The interest took me into the realm of various scriptures, across believes and religions; shaped my ideals, my thoughts and actions. I am not a grand-old guy reflecting on my past life, but at 24 looking back at your teenage does make you feel that you did some pretty crazy stuff back then. What is crazy for one, may not be to another. Growing up from childhood to adolescence, you do seek a degree of freedom, an identity, above the protection of your parents; you need a thought process to latch on to, that makes you feel independent. However, ISKCON was not an adolescent craze that faded later on. I feel, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Looking back, I had indeed bogged myself down with complex, mostly self-concocted rules so that I stick to the simple ideals laid down by the scriptures I had read. The reason I say this in a travelogue is because my journey began with me taking the first step out of my own small world - a world which I had guarded against "moh-maya" (worldly illusions). LOL!!!

A call from Larsen & Toubro Infotech to report at it's Mahape center on 30th July 2012, post my graduation two months earlier was the reason I had to leave my nest, my home in Bangalore. Being a central government employee, my dad had booked a room at the Mumbai branch office-guest house in Marol, Andheri. At noon, 26th July, 2012 we boarded our train to Dadar from Yeshwanthpur railway station.

I remember few things from the journey. The lovely western ghats to begin with. Monsoon in India does quench the thirst of the preceding summer months. It does rain heavily over the western ghats. The lush greenery of the tropical rain forest is a soothing balm to sore eyes.
(We din't own a camera back then, so the pics I post here are from the internet, which I assume are under the Creative Commons License :-p)

Grasslands and forests on the western ghats, pic from Wikipedia

The second thing I remember is the kanda vada and bhajji, Onion fritters, which were sold by the railway caterers on train. Well, the vadas are very common, its the usage of kanda that I remember. Pyaz is the word I was familiar with referring to onions, not kanda.

Kanda bhajji

I remember this really tall RPF (Railway Police Force) personnel making rounds. I occupied the top berth which is almost 6.5 feet off the floor of the train. But this RPF guy was tall, pretty pretty tall. I could see his full face from the top berth, Good Lord!!! Another peculiar incident I vividly recall associated with the RPF, which I had never been through, is their insistence that all passengers down the shutters and windows. It was late in the night, the train halted at the first railway junction in the state of Maharastra on that route. The RPF personnel got onto the train, literally woke up everybody ordering them to down the shutters and windows and not open them at any cost. We were supposed to be going through a naxalite area, or something... nothing untoward happened, but I had never been though such a scenario again.

We made friends with fellow passengers in the same coach. They were on their way to Jamnagar in Gujarat. Of the many things which they spoke of, a thing which I remember is a torn, smudged, crumpled, barely recognizable 5 rupee note in a plastic pouch which one of them was carrying. A smallest of cello-tape on a note renders it unusable in Bangalore or in any place I am aware of; here was a guy carrying a currency note in the worst possible condition, saying such currency note would be accepted in the Saurastra region in Gujarat in its full value. It was disbelief for me, till I checked this out for myself on a lady selling roasted corn near Somnath Temple, in Veraval, Gujarat. On that trip, a rickshaw driver returned a change with a barely recognizable 5 rupee currency note, though I would normally protest, this time I silently accepted - I was reminded of what I had heard in the trip to Mumbai, I had to see for myself. I handed over this note to the lady, anticipating a protest, but the note was accepted by the lady without a word!!!

 I don't remember many of the details anymore. Of the few more things that I do remember, I do not wish to speak of them in a travelogue, at least not beyond the personal view points I have revealed in the second paragraph of this post. What happened IN Mumbai, constitute the upcoming posts...

Happy Reading.

Modus operandi

This is my first blog, it's first post. I guess it's apt that I let you know my modus operandi, method of operation. It's appropriate to know of what I did and how I did it; acts speak for themselves.

The blog is named 'The Unreserved Compartment', the cheapest coaches of an Indian train - you can buy a general ticket or just hitch a ride for free - the compartment I travel. The blog is intended to be a travelogue, travel by the cheapest modes of public transport ( I use the word 'public' for those who say they can always ask for a lift from a passerby, for free) 

I travel alone, never check into a hotel, love street food. When I am on prowl, you could find me in a corner of railway platform or a bus station - unshaven, with unkempt hair, covered in dust, with smelly breath and armpits, charging my phone or camera. Well, that's me attracting the least attention. With me alone, I wouldn't mind taking an extra precaution to look like a junkie, assures me security, avoids untoward attention.

I intend to document my travel, so I do carry a simple point-&-shoot camera (which is a recent addition), which does a pretty good job and finds its place in my bag along with a toothbrush, one of the few things I don't forget to carry.

My Wildcraft bag with a back support doubles up as a pillow while I rest for the night. A sense of insecurity doesn't allow me to fall into a deep sleep, I wake up quite often - but it's worth it. I just have to pass a few hours while everything around comes to a halt for the day.

Biscuits constipate me. Parle-G which I would avoid otherwise, is my travel-mate. The first thing I have after attending mother natures call, is a pack of these - I now know for sure that I have time before the next call were to come. By the way, especially for a guy, urinals in India is quite free.

My Tupperware 1lt bottle finds no place in my bag as I travel. Any bottle you don't intend to dispose shouldn't be in your bag. When thirsty, I just buy a bottle of water, drink, dispose. IF possible and if a source of clean water is available then I refill. Simple psychology - if I have my Tupperware, I would think of refilling, probably tolerate thirst hoping to find a source of water to refill. Never be dehydrated.

I note down the places to visit, do some home work before I leave. I prioritize my destination based on distance and time it would take to travel between each of them. If I have five places in mind I decide, "Ok, now these three is a must, the remaining two - if time permits". This way I can accommodate a degree of uncertainty which comes with a public means of transport.

Saving the best for the last, I NEVER carry a smartphone. No Google Maps, no navigator, no GPS, my Nokia C2-00 keeps me in touch with my family, once fully charged it doesn't require charging for days (depending on how I use it). The thrill of actually being lost is the best. More importantly it forces you to communicate with people - the thing I love. I use the word 'communicate' and not 'talk' - if you need to get your way around, you need to overcome language barriers and communicate, not just talk. With 4000+ dialects in India, Hindi/English words do come handy, but the point is to communicate.

In the course of this travelogue, you may find mostly temples, historic sites, etc, not hill-stations and beaches. Such locations are best enjoyed with a crowd, I feel. Apart from (good or bad) pictures I shall provide info of the routes I took, the bus-route numbers (as of that day) if available. I shall recount interesting incidents and experiences, lets see how best I can use my English to engage you.

Hope the time you spend here, is worth having spent. Happy reading!!!