Journey to Surat

Ammu and I are traveling to a village called Vedchi near Surat.  The village itself is located a little over an hour's journey from Surat. We are in Mumbai, having flown from Bangalore the previous day. We did not have train reservation and so hoped into the ladies general compartment. 

Ammu is 8, and by now a seasoned traveler and a terrific travel mate. As expected, the lower berth was full and so the two of us clambered to the top berth, backpack and all. 

The lower berth had Gujarati women of sizeable proportion and engaged in their favourite pass time - eating. The journey was to take a little over 4 hours; we thought we were better off on top. But shortly we were joined by other women. And there we were sandwiched between two other women. The women to my right had a 3 year old son as well. And oh, the train was packed. More like squeeze packed. 

In less than the time it took us to reach Surat, I took the decision that I would oppose Ammu tooth and nail if she ever chose to marry a North Indian boy. Yeah, I am prejudiced that way. She was free to marry anyone, of any faith provided he was a South Indian. No compromises on that one. This is what prejudice does. Makes you take random decisions.   

Well, not quite random actually. My backpack is hauled and dropped to the ground. No prizes for guessing who does that. By the way, you can't outshout Gujarati people - women and children included. They take the cake and bakery for the volume of racket they create when merely having a conversation. And when compartment is squeeze packed, and they are arguing as well, wisdom teaches you to look away and stay quiet. 

After being tossed around a bit, a kind, well endowed lady decided to use the backpack as a foot rest. Fortunately, Ammu was having none of my meditative approach. She said Amma, you speak Hindi. Tell them to not trample it. Ammu doesn't know the difference between Hindi and Gujarati. 

Four hours can seem dreadfully long sometimes. We managed to retrieve the bag, get down without touching any of those women who refused to move as their destination was Ahmedabad! We were not done yet. At Surat station, another wave of women awaited us. With some dexterity and heaving, the two of us managed to jump out of the train.  

Phase 1: Successful. Now to Gandhi Ashram. 

FG