Some six decades ago, rail travel was less cumbersome compared to today. With hardly any reservation system in place, anybody could enter a bogie and grab a vacant seat or berth. Younger persons used to unroll their bedding on the upper berths. Of course, muscle-flexing bullies always had an upper hand.
Some would tip a coolie (porter) who would enter some compartment even as the rake was being washed in the yard and place his scarf (shoulder towel) on an upper berth, which meant that it had been ‘reserved’. As other porters also did the same, you would find towels of different hues and shades placed on upper berths.
Under an understanding among the porters, nobody could disturb the arrangement. After the rake arrived at a platform, the porters would help the passengers concerned occupy the upper berths. No hassles.
With the rise in population and people becoming increasingly travel-minded, the demand for seat/berth reservations rose manifold. The number of trains was increased. Today, 10 trains run on a particular route where there used to be only one in the not-too-distant past.
But in those early days, one could easily book a full coupe of four berths for the family. Parents of newly-married couples used to book a first class coupe of two berths for the duo. The couple would bolt the tiny compartment to ensure complete freedom and privacy. After the initial checking by the train ticket examiner, no subsequent TTE disturbed them. These reservations became a fashion not only with the affluent ,but even upper middle class people.
How I wished I had also enjoyed the privilege when I got married. But it was not possible because my spouse belonged to a place hardly 40-45km from my city. So, on our road journey back home, my bride and I were deposited in the middle of the rear seat of a car. We were sandwiched between ecstatic kids on both sides with no freedom and privacy even for that short period. Besides, the driver also missed no opportunity to steal a quick glance at us through the rear view mirror. As nothing could be done in that situation, I (rather we) had to bear it bravely but grudgingly.
That way, my friend Amit was lucky. Born and brought up in Rajasthan, he stayed back in Gwalior in the neighbouring state of Madhya Pradesh after retirement where I met him some time back. Rajasthani lifestyle and traditions had greatly impacted his life. That is why Amit, when he was a lad of 17, was made to marry Sunita who was only 12: A case of child marriage.
You can imagine what would seniors discuss when they met after several years. So, we reminisced about our respective school and college days, home life and out-of-the-home life, friendship with girls and boys, our marriages and the consequential arrivals of children, their upbringing etcetera.
I would talk about other aspects some other time. Presently, I would recall what Amit experienced on marrying a child bride. I may point out that despite a ban, child marriages are reported even today in India from not only remote villages but cities as well.
Due to a social sanction for the undesirable practice, orthodox people solemnise them surreptitiously, sometimes openly. Happily, with increasing awareness and the level of literacy going up, the incidence is now coming down.
At the time of his wedding, Amit said, he was hardly 17 — only a boy, not a man in the strict sense of the term. He did not know much about what the wedlock meant. Young boys and girls were not as informed then as they are today. All that he knew was that one has to get married some day, then things take their natural course and then they become parents.
For 12-year-old bride Sunita, it was like the marriage of her ‘gudia’ (doll) to the ‘gudda’ (male doll) of her girl friend, which she had performed recently. That is why during the various rituals when this innocent girl was supposed to be fasting, she frequently asked for eatables. When denied, she cried loudly evoking chiding as well as giggles.
The bride’s father booked a two-berth coupe on a meter gauge train for the couple. At least for Sunita, rail travel was more exciting than getting married. While her family members sobbed saying good bye, the bejewelled little girl, dressed in her wedding best, was almost jumping with joy!
Midway, Amit stepped out at a station to buy something. On return he was shocked to find his bride missing. A quick search and he found her at the door trying to get down. An exasperated Amit shouted at the top of his voice, “Why were you getting down?”
Quick came the reply in a similarly loud and harsh tone, “To buy ice cream. Understand?”
As amused onlookers watched, the little bride told her hubby: “I will not talk to you if you don’t buy me ice cream at the next station.” The boy promised it and the angry bride returned to the coupe.
Amit slammed the door shut. He did not tell me what happened after that.
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
