Skip to main content

Lost

By RK Rishikesh Sinha, New Delhi

New/Old Delhi Railway station - mere mentioning of the name sprouts in me all the forgotten, dormant memories, associated with this busiest railway station of India. How, as a child clutching my father's hand we used to board to another train, how as a teenager slept on its platforms, and went for Delhi Darshan on walk. These and many memories come crumbling out of my every visit to this railway station. This time for the last two days I had been visiting the railway station, and every time it reminds me all the sweet and harrowing experience that took place in the railway stations.

Now when I visit the railway station, although I don't remember a figment of its past structure, how it looked at that time, one thing that assures me again and again - I have become a "man", my parents don't accompany me every time I leave home.

From the basket of memories, here is the one that I would say, still if you ask my mom to narrate she would love to go on a pre-recorded speech, innumerable times! A cup of tea with “aaee”, assured! The year was 1983, we - my mother, dad, younger brother, and another brother younger to him, who at that time was still in mom's lap, after getting down from the Jammu-New Delhi train, were literally running to catch the link-train to Guwahati, Assam. In the football of passengers, we were headed by a coolie carrying our boxes and beddings, beside him my father, next to him my mom, my younger brother and I clutching my mom's hand. In the catch-the -train exercise, the coolie was working as a lamp post, a beacon giving direction to us. In the bevy of people, many times my father was not visible to my mom, and the distance between us with minutes was increasing.

Seeing the distance increasing, and not able to carry three of us, mom instructed my younger brother to run and catch Dad. Time was too short; the train would be leaving after 5 minutes.

Finally, we were able to catch the link-train. We were all happy, and started occupying our respective berths. Breaking the atmosphere of merriment, suddenly my father asked where is "Gautam"- my younger brother. He was not with us. He has lost. Hell breaks loose upon all of us. Pain of loosing a member from the family instantly grimaced in our face. We all started searching for him in different directions, but keeping sight of the train bogie.

Fear of not loosing rest two of us, my mom assembled us, though by that time we have got down from the bogie and were waiting for the arrival of my Dad. We were crying and were seeking help, asking people- have they seen the “lost” boy? Something that was pumping our blood high and higher, and all negatives thoughts enveloping us - it was the non-stop announcements running in the railway station: mentioning the names of lost children.

At last, in our face smiled appeared when we saw Dad bringing Gautam in his hand. We all heaved a sigh of relief and boarded the train again. Later Dad told he went to the direction we have had traversed. He saw, Gautam crying loudly encircled by people. The incident still sends goose bumps and am still feeling it while I am writing this.

Here I stop if I go on writing among many incidents, one in which I got lost for 7 hours without a penny in pocket in the same station, another in which I was in the midst of passengers who were ill-tempered and were physically fighting, I bet the blog's space wouldn't be enough to accommodate it, even readers' capacity to digest it.

We all readers would be happy, if you share with all of us your sweet travel memories. Do write.

Comments

  1. Mr Rishikesh I always liked your posts but never dared to appreciate. But today after reading the post I thought of commenting as it reminds me of an incident that took place with me when i was a child. Once when I was returning from Delhi from my Didi's house with my parents we lost one luggage, where most of our newly bought things were there which made all of us very sad. So, if were so sad at the loss of a luggage I am just wondering the agony you all would have gone through when you were not able to get your younger brother. Really I would say God was with you that you found your brother back.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

We all love comments. It is moderated

Popular posts from this blog

The 'Star' Krishankant Sinha of Space City Sigma

By RK Rishikesh Sinha, New Delhi It is a myth that the all-knowing Internet knows everything. One such myth relates to old television stuff aired on Doordarshan before 1990. Search in Google “Space City Sigma”, the search engine would throw up reminiscent results from the people who still long for those days. Those days were really golden days. Krishankant Sinha in the role of Captain Tara in Space City Singma For those who have watched Doordarshan some 15 to 20 years back, am sure they will have nostalgic memories of it. The days when possessing a now ubiquitous looking television set was a luxury. It was a neighbour’s envy product. It was a visual product to showoff, to flaunt that we have a television set . Those were the days when black and white, locked television was rarely found in homes. The days became immortal for teleserials like Ramayana, Mahabharata, Swami’s Malgudi Days (Ta-Na-Na-Na…), Ek-Do-Teen-Char (Title song: Ek do teen char, chaaro mil ke saath chale to

On Bhoomi Pujan for Ram Mandir in Ayodhya, performance by Sinha Sisters

Definitely, the Bhoomi Pujan for Ram Mandir in Ayodhya is momentous day for the Bhratiya Sabhyata. In this historical moment, the Bishnupriya Manipuris (living in Assam, Tripura, Bangladesh, and Manipur), the event has been beautifully captured by the artists.  PM Modi at Ayodhya Here is Sinha Sisters with their singing expressing their astha and bhakti. It is true. Bhagwan Sri Ram lives in people's heart.  Do watch. Performance by mother and daughter.

Sri Sri Bhubaneshwar Sadhu Thakur

By Ranita Sinha, Kolkata Sri Sri Bhubaneshwar Thakur, the great saint of the Bishnupriya Manipuri Community was born on 26th October, 1871, in a remote village of Cachar district called Baropua in the state of Assam. He was born to a Xatriya Manipuri family. His father Sri Sanatan Pandit was a Sanskrit teacher and mother Srimati Malati Devi, a house wife. Sadhu Baba from his childhood was indifferent to all worldly happenings. He was engrossed in chanting the name of Lord Krishna. Along with other students of his age, Sadhu Baba started taking lessons of grammar and other spiritual literature from his father. At a very young age he lost his mother but he was brought up with utmost love and care by his step mother. At the age of eighteen, Sadhu baba lost his father, so, to continue his spiritual education under the guidance of Rajpandit Mineshwas Swarbabhwam Bhattacherjee, he went to Tripura. But within one year he made up his mind to visit all the holy places and as such he took permis