I burnt the midnight oil for this book. This book isn’t a whodunit, nor is it a political thriller that spoke about espionage where I needed to know the culprit. Yet, this book of ordinary men and women kept me awake and I rested easy only once I turned the back cover close. At that late hour, I could hear the chug-chug of the engine, the noise of the station, the call of the chai vendor. I could see the image of the goods train and above all the blurred images of the guard, the man dressed in white waving the green flag, holding the red one in his hand and the people behind the caged windows. The last was pretty surprising for it has been ages since I have physically gone to the station to book tickets.
Right from the time this book was announced, I was excited to know more about the men and women and the faceless people who make these journeys possible.
I belong to a family that was spread out. We lived in Hyderabad. My grandparents in Madras ( Just like the author- Madras is an emotion and can’t think of it as Chennai) , my aunts and uncles were in Bombay, Calcutta, Delhi, Bangalore, Vishakapatnam and more. So train and train journeys were a part of my upbringing.
I am proud to say that my extended family contributed substantially to not just keeping the railways afloat but also to keep it thriving.
Going to the station, standing in the serpentine queues, booking tickets were all a part and parcel of my life. My father was one of those men who believed that we three girls learn how to book tickets,operate bank accounts and did not believe in mollycoddling us and hence we took over quite a bit of those chores.
With luck being on my side, I have often come to the counter just as it closed for a few minutes for a ” Chai-break” by these commercial clerks making me want to wring their necks! If I had known about their lives, I wouldn’t have had such dark thoughts.
Sangeetha Vallat’s book was a revelation in so many ways. Firstly, I wasn’t even aware about the VCRC programme . I guess, I was living under a rock in those days. Being a young mother does things to you.
The second revelation was the way young boys and girls braved the difficulties and hostile environment to serve the Indian Railways.
What worked for me were:
The very relatable prose interspersed with lightness and humour
The honesty with which she wrote this memoir. The attractions with colleagues and the gossip that follows when one works in close quarters were all so relatable.
The difficulties that she and her colleagues faced without making them look like, “woe me or woe us.”
The details that went into the responsibilities and difficulties of a commercial clerk.
The time when a man exposed himself to the author made me go cold. The deaths happening in the train track is something that I never wrapped my head around but then that became such a reality through this book. The lack of proper toilet, the difficulties of sharing the closed space and dealing with some very difficult customers were all very well brought out.
This book to a great extent did what Arthur Hailey did to Airport and Hotels. Sangeetha brought railways and its working beyond that of being a mere passenger- which I must say I thoroughly enjoy to date. Her account about going to VLR for tea and something sinful to eat took me down memory lane. The way she thinks of station code is also very relatable.
What could have been better from my personal viewpoint was the fact that I found one too many characters particularly as the book was winding up. One too many names particularly after she moved to Chennai led to some confusion at least at a personal level. Being a memoir, I guess she had to include all those with whom she built a rapport or otherwise, but I had to go back and forth to know who is who!
To conclude, this book is very enjoyable, a must-read and an amazing debut novel. It can be procured here
