I was Circle Secretary of the E.III Union (NFPTE), Kerala, during 1977-81 and stationed at Trivandrum. Stayed in a room near the Telephone exchange with co-workers and union leaders Comrades G.Soman, Divisional Secretary and Balakrishnan, both Telephone Operators. Since wife Pankajam and children Shaji and Mini were staying at Calicut, where she was working, I used to come to Calicut most of the weekends by exchanging duties. Tickets will be booked for the night trains in advance.
During the Assembly session period, there will be many MLAs from the Malabar side in the same train starting from Trivandrum. AC coaches were not introduced and the MLAs also will be in the sleeper coaches. On such an occasion, my berth was also nearby the berths allotted to some MLAs including Com. M.V.Raghavan. Com.E.K.Nayanar, then State Secretary of CPI (M), Kerala was also there. (It was many years before MVR left the party). All of them were speaking about many things, including political matters. They were sharing some interesting incidents also. As they knew me, there was no reservation in the talks. But I was not a party to the conversation, but only a silent spectator.
It was time to sleep. The berths had no cushion type covering at that time and passengers brought their own bed sheets etc. The berth allotted to Com.Nayanar was the middle one. Before we started arranging the berths, Com. MVR said that Com.Nayanar should not be allowed to sleep in the middle berth, but should be given a lower berth. Why? He started telling an earlier experience.
‘Party comrades, including Nayanar, MVR and others were travelling to Calcutta to attend a Party meeting. Nayanar was sleeping in the middle berth. By about midnight, there was a heavy thud and noise as if some heavy object has fallen on the floor of the compartment. Everybody woke up. They saw Com.Nayanar fallen to floor from the middle berth and almost unconscious. He was lifted and placed on the lower berth. After a few minutes, he was ok.’
Hearing MVR’s story everybody started laughing, including Nayanar. Most of us did not know whether the story was true or a joke but enjoyed hearing it, the way MVR told and the hilarious response of Nayanar. Anyhow, that night Nayanar slept in the lower berth only.
It was the return journey from Lucknow, capital of U.P., after attending the All India Conference of the AITEU Class III Union (NFPTE) held there in December 1966. The 6-7 delegates from Kerala planned the return journey through Agra so that the world famous Taj Mahal can be visited.
We could not get any reservation ticket for the journey. Purchased ordinary tickets. It was night and there was heavy rush. Since it was winter, all were having hold-all packs, as was the system at that time with the dresses, books etc. bundled in them. It was not a train starting from Lucknow and we were waiting for the train to arrive.
To get in to the train with the hold-alls was difficult due to the heavy rush. The train arrived at last. Its windows had no bars or glasses, so that one can even jump through it. Others rushed through the door. I, as the youngest person, was asked, to put the entire luggage inside through the window and then get in through the door. By the time I put all the luggage through the window, the train had already started and due to rush I could not get in to the compartment. However, I got in the next and last compartment where there was no rush. The train gained speed.
When I searched for a seat, I was dumb-founded. It was a Ladies Compartment. A good number of young nurses were sitting. An elder Sister came to me and asked in Malayalam whether I am from Kerala. I nodded. She told me not to worry. She said that she is the teacher of a Nursing School at Agra and is returning from Lucknow where she has brought the nursing students, mostly belonging to Kerala, to appear in the Nurse’s examination. She also said that the train will reach Agra by early morning and allowed me to sit there.
After a few hours, the train slowed and stopped. No station was to be seen. It was pitch dark. It seemed that there was some maintenance work going on in the tracks. I was standing at the opened door and looking out. The Nursing teacher came and stood beside me to look outside. All of a sudden, the train severely jerked and the purse in her hand fell down in the railway tracks. I got down carefully, but since the purse was inside the tracks it was dangerous to bend down and pick it up. I told her that I will take it after the last compartment passes and get up with the purse, before the train gained speed. She also got down, probably afraid that I may slip away after taking the purse from the tracks. The train started moving. I retrieved the purse and gave it to her. But unfortunately, she was unable to climb up the steep steps in the moving train. Both of us were stranded there in the dark.
We stood completely shocked and frightened. We saw a dim light and went towards it. Fortunately there was a very small Railway Station with an Asst. Station Master with a small kerosene lantern sitting in his room. We requested him to allow us to sit there till the next train arrives or till morning. He said that the last train has gone; he is closing the station and going home. He advised us to go outside, where there are jutkawallahs and they will take us to Agra by road which is only a few miles away. In the cold dark night with thick woolen clothes, big turbans and heavy moustaches they seemed like dacoits in Hindi cinemas. My companion was brave, she knew Hindi well, spoke with them and we got in the jutka.
The horse trotted on the country road, causing heavy jerking. We were afraid of falling down at any moment. After it seemed hours, we reached outside of Agra Railway station by about 6.00 am. I could see our comrades sitting there, probably discussing about what happened to me since they did not see me getting in to the compartment. On another side, the nursing students were also bewildered without knowing what happened to their dear teacher.
I conveyed my thanks to the Nursing teacher and joined my comrades. By seeing me they were happy. I also was happy.
As planned earlier, we visited the world famous Taj Mahal, Agra Fort and some other monuments before returning to Kerala.
(Journeys are usually pleasant and enjoyable. Sometimes may turn into nightmares also. These experiences are valuable part of one’s life. As part of union activities, I had the chance to travel a lot. Mostly these were in trains and sometimes by planes, buses, boats etc. Journeys are always interesting and thought of refreshing my memory by recalling them, though I may have written about them earlier. Let the first be about a journey six decades back.)
Visit to Jhansi Fort
My Delhi journeys started from the 1960s. Being the Branch / Divisional Secretary of the then All India Telegraph Engineering Union Class III (affiliated to NFPTE, the only Federation of P and T Employees at that time), Cannanore/ Calicut, I had to attend the All India Conferences as also certain All India Conventions in Delhi. The AICs were held annually during those days.
There was no direct train from Kerala to Delhi. One had to go to Madras first and then catch the Grant Trunk Express, the only train going to Delhi from south. There was no question of getting any reservation. One will have wait in the queue at the Madras railway ticket booking counter for hours, sometimes days to get reservation. Neither feasible nor possible for us.
The only thing that could be done was to wait in the Railway Platform, rush, get in and occupy a seat in the general compartment as soon as the train arrives. That also was not easy, as there will be heavy rush. Since some of the general coaches did not have iron bars for the windows, you will be able to jump into the train through the window after throwing your bags, hold-all etc. If you give some money to the railway porter, he may somehow manage to get you a seat. Sometimes you will not be that fortunate. Then you have to stand till somebody vacates a seat. You will have to stand for days together also.
No supply of tea / coffee in the train. When the train reaches any big station, passengers rush to the water pipe in the platform, drink water and fill it in the bottle. No drinking water bottles for sale as at present. Sometimes you manage to get a cup of tea from the tea shops in the platforms. Vijayawada was a station, where you can get meals. The moment you reach Vijayawada, get down and run to the restaurant in the station. Take a meal ticket from the person standing at the door, sit in any of the table where food is already served, eat it fast and run back to the compartment before the train starts. An alarm bell will ring one minute before the departure of the train. Whether you have finished your meal or not, you rush back to the train.
It will take more than two days to reach Delhi. By the time you reach your destination, your dress will be completely black with the smoke from the steam engine. No chance to take bath. Though the toilets were not clean, you have to manage.
I remember one such journey. Late Com. K.Bhaskaran Nair, senior leader of E.III Union, who was Kerala Circle Union President later, and me were travelling by train to Delhi for attending a Convention. Even after one full day, we could not get seats to sit. The compartment was jam packed. We were so tired that we thought of getting down, taking bath, and then proceeding to Delhi by another train. Since there was no reservation, we could use the small card type ticket for another train. We got down at Jhansi station in the early morning by about 0500 hours or so, kept the bags in the cloak room and had tea from outside. Tea was not being prepared as in our place. Here the tea dust and sugar was put in a glass of boiling milk, without adding water, taken from the large vessel kept on burning charcoals.
All of a sudden, we got the idea that why we can’t visit the famous Fort of Rani Laxmi Bai, the legend of the 1857 War of Independence, where somehow we can take a bath also. I took with me a small bag with the money in it, also with oil and soap.
We hired a jutka and asked the driver to take us to the Jhansi Fort. It was too early even to see the road clearly. The driver dropped us near an old fort. We got down, paid him and walked to the fort. It was in a very dilapidated condition. The gates were broken, muddy water could be seen here and there. Rooms were open with beds and dirty linen scattered on the floor. We decided to return without waiting to see the rest of the fort.
By the time we returned, we were surprised to see many people standing near the gate to the road, watching us suspiciously. A good look at them and we shuddered. They were lepers and the old fort was a leper’s colony. They might have thought that we had come to rob them. Any way, it was a dangerous situation. If they caught us and kept us their prisoners, nobody will know. Our families will not know where we are. We were in great danger and became panicky of thinking about being caught and kept there for our remaining years.
Bhaskaran Nair was a resourceful person. He spelt out the plan. Don’t be panicky. Appear normal. The moment we reach near the gate where they are standing, run for our lives. Don’t look back or wait for each other. They are lepers and can’t out-run and catch us. If they try to stop us, push them and continue running.
It was in fact a run for life. They did not try to stop us. We ran past them and after a few minutes looked back. They were watching us curiously. We were safe.
We got another jutka on the way. The driver told us that this is a very old fort and Fort of Jhansi Rani, the leader of the 1857 Revolt, is in another direction. He took us there. A good portion of the fort was occupied by military. We walked through the fort. We wanted desperately to take a bath, especially after the visit to the lepers’ colony. We found a small temple and a tank in a lower portion of the fort. We told the lone priest, who was there, that we are from Kerala and wanted to take bath and pray. He graciously allowed. He also told that this was the Maharani’s temple, where she prayed daily. We took bath, prayed, thanked him and gave dakshina.
While searching the bag for oil before bath, I found that the oil had spilled during our running and all the notes were soaked in it. Bhaskaran Nair told me not to worry. You put ash (bhasma) on the notes and the notes will be dry. We returned to the Railway station, got in to another train, reached Delhi without any further difficulty and attended the Convention. Exchanged the oil-soaked notes with the Reception Committee for fresh ones. Used to have bad dreams for a few days.
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