What if I ask you, what is the most stupid thing you've done to retrieve your slippers? I made a sprint through a tiger reserve. This is the story of my journey through one of the last mainline MG routes of India.

On one fine July morning, I was feeling too overwhelmed by the things going on in my life and work. So, I did what any sane person would do, I headed out for the first location I saw on Instagram. I wanted to mysteriously disappear for a few days,...
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but I needed someone to drop me off to the bus stop. So much for disappearing mysteriously.

It was a good day, people didn't seem to be unhealthy. So, I utilized my time researching the route and booked a ticket in current availability. The only reservation I did, or so I thought. I headed out for the expressway in night, somehow boarded a UPSRTC, which seemed like punch it and it would fall apart. But somehow, it made it till Lucknow, from where I had to board my train.

My train was the ANVT-GKP weekly, in which I was going to travel till Gonda. With side lower allotted to me in the empty coach, it was going to be a beautiful nonstop run. I woke up somewhere around Colonelganj, and the surroundings were something out of a movie. It was a misty morning, wrapped in a blue hue, with our train racing through the magestic plains of Uttar Pradesh in a fine drizzle.

I deboarded at Gonda, and while I couldn't get the snaps I had planned, I was amazed by the rustic beauty of the erstwhile MG station. I went out to buy a ticket for the Gonda-Bahraich DEMU and, while at it, captured the beautiful IZN YDM-4 stabled outside, looking for the first time at an MG loco in the real world. I boarded the last vendor coach of the train, and it turned out to be a good decision because it was basically empty, while the rest of the train was jam-packed.

The whole route converted from MG is a site to behold, huge trees, seemingly older than time looming all over the platforms, train chugging between water filled nurseries of paddy on an overcast morning. No trace of humanity in vicinity and the chatter of vendors inside the coach. We had a crossing, too, with the delayed BRK-BSB Intercity hauled by a GZB WAP-5.

There was a person sitting beside me with a lot of cameras whom I thought to be another railfan, so I found a companion, fine. I was greatly disappointed when I found out he was just a wedding photographer going to Bahraich. I deboarded at Bahraich and went out to buy tickets again for Mailani. And I was surprised to see the crowd of daily travelers. Again, I boarded the SLR. Except for the electrical components, the train was maintained well. Coaches were clean, toilets scrubbed, with running water.

The train lurched into motion, and the coach came to life. The coach was occupied mainly by people going to their daily jobs in Risiya. From nurses to policemen, shopkeepers to peons, hawkers to teachers, everyone seemed to know each other. That's the beauty of small towns. Somehow, these people included me in their conversations as if I were their daily co-passanger. And for once, I forgot about capturing the route.

Almost everyone deboarded at Risiya, and the passenger from Nepalgunj, which usually xinged at Nanpara, crossed us at Risiya itself. The jungle hadn't started yet, and we were passing through the lazy farmlands and occasional villages. Once the train halted at Nanpara, it started to drizzle. The train was completely empty now. Since the halt at Nanpara was almost an hour long, I got down to capture the train below the huge Maulsree tree and the daily life at the station.

Nanpara is the junction of Bahraich-Mailani and Nepalgunj lines. Few spare coaches standing on the loop, colonial style building, and huge Maulsree and Sal trees looming over the whole station. Vendors frying samosas and bread pakoras, while people moving on the platform bustling with activity, the station is a page taken out of Malgudi Days.

With nothing to eat, I bought those freshly made snacks. While they were delicious, they were a bit oily for my liking. After an hour, the Guard waved his flag, the loco whistled, and we moved further. The jungle starts somewhere around Mihinpurwa. Before that, the route is like the typical northern Indian plains. Farmlands stretching to the horizon and occasional plantations around the tracks. Stations are beautiful and will take you back in time. The train got decent patronage, and I was surprised that everyone boarded with a valid ticket.

After Mihinpurwa, the track runs parallel to the road for a while under the thick canopies of Sal trees in the Katarniaghat Wildlife Sanctuary. The jungle starts gradually and takes over the surroundings. A layer of mist surrounded the tracks, and I could spot occasional Langurs, few birds, and a lot of brooks. The jungle itself seemed to be lost in its own thoughts. We crossed our pairing train somewhere inside the sanctuary, coming out of the forest, crossing the semaphores, and disappearing back into the jungle.

We curved out of the Katarniaghat gradually and entered the grassland, crossing the mighty Ghaghra Barrage over an angrily churning Ghaghra. The river had flooed the area, showing that ultimately, mother nature reclaims back what belongs to her. I made a few local friends on the train. A person traveling solo needs someone to capture him, too, right. We crossed another service going to Bahraich at a yet another beautiful station. If you're traveling on that route, you'll realize that time has stopped on these stations somewhere in the past. It's surreal.

Unlike Katarniaghat, Dudhwa starts abruptly. You can literally see the forest approaching, with a clear demarcation between plain grasslands and high Sal trees. Dudhwa is a combination of grasslands, tall Sal trees, and a lot of water bodies. And yes, endless rows of termite mounds, some of them higher than our train, and probably older than me. Now, do you remember the first line I mentioned? I was sitting on the door, and one of my slippers fell down on the ground. And there I am, watching at it left behind on the forest floor.

But somehow, the train screeched to a halt a few meters ahead. Most probably, to let a bunch of animals cross the track. And simultaneously, I jumped out and ran, barefoot back in the jungle. Retrieved my slipper, clicked a photo of the train, and ran back. As soon as I grabbed the door handle, the train lurched into motion. Now, looking back at that day, I realize it was pure madness. Running back in a tiger paradise, leaving my DSLR bag, food, water, charger, and my wallet on the train without thinking what would've happened if I missed the train. What is a journey without such stories.

After that, the route was pretty much the same, and I dozed off. Woke up at Dudhwa and again went back to sleep. Finally, I woke up near Palia and saw a bunch of keymen sitting around me. They were talking about a tiger sighting near Dudhwa railway station. Finally, an exciting journey came to an end when we reached Mailani. There was enough time for me to capture the MG heaven of Mailani. I bought tickets for Lucknow and boarded the Mailani-Gorakhpur Express. The transition from slow, beautiful MG to EMD hauled LHB train made me realize how rapidly time has changed during these two and a half decades of my life.

Slept pretty much all the way to LJN. The 15010 needs more General coaches as there was a huge rush, whereas the AC and SL were empty. Forgot my way out of LJN to Charbagh, I still can't figure out why. I had to be rescued by my friend who coincidentally was present on the station. Exhausted by the day journey, I booked a 2AC back to Etawah in Marudhar Express and called it a day.

Experiencing the slow life away from the rush of the cities, in the heart of rural Uttar Pradesh. Exploring the jungles but in a train rather than the open jeeps. This will take you back to how life used to be just a few years back. Laid-back and simple. Thank you for reading. A few snaps from the same journey, /blog/post/6105961

Kumud.