Unequal Sprints..

What the hell was I thinking - when I sprinted alongside a 24-bogie long Anaconda thundering away at 64 kmph, whipping up a hundred tornadoes? Perhaps, it was my attempt at blogging economy. Trying to blog on Biking and Train travel at the same time. I'll relate the fiasco as soon as I regain my senses.

SENSES REGAINED::

Well. here is what happened. In the days following Bakr-Eid, I had a guest. He was a visiting official of my mission. A friend of mine conducted him from Katak to KiiT to meet me and discuss some developments. After a lunch stop at Udupi and a prayer stop in the locality behind, he was ready to move to Khurda to board his train home. The best mode to get there was the passenger train Katak-Palasa. It touches Patia PH(Passenger Halt) which is 2 kms from our campus around 5 PM. So, we proceeded to that under-construction yard of a 'passenger halt' to put our guest on the train.

IST's closest expansion-sum-translation is Infinitely Stretchable Time though it is interpreted as Indian Standard Time. The train must have been lazying at Barang or Kathajodi river for it was yet to hoot its presence by 520 PM. A motley crowd of students and employees returning home dallied on the crude platform of gravel and stone blocks cemented in a rough fashion. Swarms of mosquitoes moved about looking for heads to hover over. The cellular-ed class flashed its range to impress the bystanders or initiate handset-centric discussions to kill time. While Your Sincerely's  gray matter was getting fermented with Mars-ish ideas of humouring my circle. 

Every 15 mintues or so, trains- express passenger or goods-laden, would thunder by. They weren't suposed to stop till Barang, or worse- Cuttack. This arrogance of non-stop progress was reflected in the non-chalance it exhibited in passing us. Horns on full-blast, engines on max and throttle (or whatever monster machinery reguated the speed) turned to full; such was the temperament of the dragons howling past the stricken passenger mass. These trains were rushing in both directions  and on the immediate tracks. Each was in a terrible hurry to beat the clock perhaps. Needless to say, the unlucky bystanders never need a clock again.

Despite the perils posed by a multi-mega-metric-tonne iron factory on steel wheels, some people are addicted to adrenaline. When an express train passed us whipping up a storm on the platform, I made up my mind to pit my bike against it. An apt comparison would be that of a worm facing an anaconda. Platforms of such minor stations are unpatrolled, unguarded and unfenced. We had taken our bikes up there. The southern side of the platform was relatively empty. The few that were sauntering there beat a hasty retreat when they saw me gesturing out the stunt in mind to my comrades.

I planned on racing with the trains. I had read that the fastest train was the Satavahana Express with speeds upto 67 kmph (information out-dated with Habibganj-Delhi Shatabdi touching 161 kmph). I reasoned, that since I regularly drowned 67 kmph, what are the odds of the train winning the race ? I obviously ignored a helluva other factors. For example, I didn't incude the wind rush in the face due to our movement in opposite directions. Plan shelved. Again, the train was already on that speed and I need 6 secs to achieve that. No use as by that time, the train was out of the station limits.

After the long pause... here's the remainder of that mental grinder !

I was tired of challenging members from the homo sapiens species. And there were a few scores to settle with Indian Railways. It had once left my friend behind in collaboration with Department of Highway Delays and Azzole Autowallahs Association. On certain occaisons, it had sardined me on sultry summer stretches in smelly & suffocating general dibbas. Finally, because after having our 'kind attention', it had conveyed the cruellest of communications in the form of delay announcements. OK ! I was just hunting for excuses. 

I handed over my cellphone to my friend and explained the working of the camera. The entire event would never make to anyone's memory without images. Mere descriptions doesn't excite the Youtube generation. Again, it had to be a video to prove that I actually made the dash. The sticky, tricky and slick functioning of the touchscreen asks for familiarity to be handled. Taking his headshake as a nod to question of whether he understood the system, I proceeded to the extreme end of the platform. The warning blares from the express train approaching foretold a no-holds-barred fly-by on the locomotive's part; but nothing much about the possible negative outcome.

Having settled at the starting spot, I started sensing the odds stacked against a successful stunt. the stone-block, non-slippery part was only 3 feet wide and that too towards the tracks. Vrooom. Should I not just get down, park and sensibly back off to the safe zone. I should have; sadly, I didn't. I stood there revving my engine, waiting for the bigger, louder, faster engine to speed by. Instead, it exploded away. Bursts of sound, smoke, shakes and shocks surrounded me as the avalanche of metal roared by. Umm, why was I there? Oh, race.. Damn ! Go wash your face. 

Putting the inferior machinery into gear, I feebly tried to accelerate against the sandstorm. Buddy, are you recording this? If yes, stop yaar ! 60 kmph? Getting on to 16 was an ordeal. It was already suicidal. I couldn't see beyond 5 mtrs and the suction of this linear tornado kept clutching at my sides. A closer sway and I could have shamed the Bofors projectile in distance/elevation range. Doubtless, death was but decimetres away. Scraping through 40 mts of this combat zone, I met my friend who had managed to click the photo option instead of the video. Funtastico !

Decisions: 1. Won't race with a member of Indian Railways. All previous scores settled

2. Won't bike on an under-construction railway platfrom / on tracks.

3. Shall get an accident insurance policy at the earliest. (Purchased on 27th Feb 2009)

4. Shall use a more basic phone for recording stunts. Hire professional cameramen if necessary.

5. Shall buy racing gear: night-vision lens, ear-buds, shock-proof helmet and a good bike.

Epilogue: People didn't read this blog to learn racing safety and are dying in increasing numbers across Orissa in train-related accidents. Play safe. Use only one at a time- The Train or the Brain.