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SAM CLUB DAY ‘16

The Good Old SL Berths

- Penuboina Bharath Krishna '2k12

I don't remember the last me I made reserva ons in the Sleeper Class but partly because my brother
frequently commutes by it and partly because it had been quite a long me since my last trip, I decided to travel
by it. It was just to know how much it had changed since my last trip. In my school days when I could ill afford to
think of travelling in AC coaches (always considered to be quite a class), I used to travel by the humble SL berths.
We never had an unreserved passenger anywhere near the seats. The coach was kept quite clean by our
standards, a place good enough for a day or two. You never felt stuffy or suffocated and it gave me immense joy
just to sit by the cross-barred window and gaze at the paddy fields cut in squares and rectangles bordered by
trees, ny towers far across, farmhouses do ed amidst vast tracts of agricultural land. There were the
occasional roads and you would be excited to see if the car or bus on the road would overtake your train. If there
were several tall buildings and hoardings, you would know a big sta on was round the corner. More
importantly, it would feel as though the world moved behind rather than we moved forward. In an SL berth, one
could purchase water bo les and chips' packets without necessarily stepping out. You could admire the long
and mighty metal bridges perfectly riveted side to side on sturdy founda ons across vast waters painted in blue,
brown and green interspersed by small sand islands. The momentary temple would evoke a hand-touch-the-
forehead-and-eyes gree ng or humble obeisance to show you weren't an atheist. Then there were the feared
eunuchs when one would pretend to be in deep slumber; all the while, with a cunning eye keeping a watch if
they were gone. Also, the sight of a kid cleaning the floor with his already smudged shirt just for some change
would remind us about the poor in our country about whom we seldom think. You were subjected to all sorts of
smells, from the fragrance of the arriving rains to the odours of a slum or a sugarcane factory. A long tunnel
meant loud shouts and screams. It was amazing just to watch the light go out and then reappear a er a lengthy
period. The SL berths provided an ideal pla orm for discussions ranging from feminine gossip to cricket, movies
and poli cs. We were subjected to the vagaries of the weather, be it the scorching summers or the chilly
winters. One would know that he was actually travelling.

With all due gra tude to the many ameni es provided to me by the railways, I today reflect on the memories of
my childhood when a train journey would excite me to a wholesome experience of the good and the-not-so-
good. It was a world minus mobiles and laptops and many other pas mes. I passed my me coun ng trees and
markings and felt the air brush my face at the door as my home approached beckoning me back into its fold. I
made many friends and wished them well as they disembarked at their respec ve loca ons. I exchanged foods
and ideas, narra ng my anecdotes from school and pestered my parents to have my wishes granted.

Today, not much has changed on the outside. But the reserved also has a significant volume of the unreserved.
And with the increase in passenger traffic, the cockroaches and bugs have not been le behind. They too
compete for their li le space in this moving ecosystem. As the last minutes cked away for me to alight at my
des na on, I was filled with a huge void. Inside me, I realized I was missing the good old SL berths.

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