Chikjājūr

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During Christmas of 2013, I was traveling to India (to visit family) from the US. My home is in a remote place in southern India and road transport being the only way to get there. No trains and no planes. My travel itinerary was something like this flight: JFK-DOH-BLR and a train (6 hrs) to some Haveri where my parents would receive me and drive us (2hrs) home. What ended up happening was something that I could never have imagined.

Dec 24, 2013

The flight from JFK was on time and everything seemed to be in order. I managed to get some sleep as well, thanks to a thoughtful couple who offered me a seat far away from them so that I could avoid being next to their infant all flight. We took off and it was all fine until we were midway over the Atlantic when some person had a medical emergency. There was no shortage of doctors on board (remember this flight’s final destination was India) and they were of the opinion that we had to land somewhere. We weren’t given constant updates about the situation (to be fair, this shouldn’t have been priority at the time and it wasn’t) and I could see the flight attendants walking back and forth in the aisles with teary eyes. It was scary.

A while later, the captain announced that they would be “dumping fuel” to be able to land prematurely. He went on to explain that having more fuel than necessary increases the weight of the aircraft and that would hinder easy landing. He also non-chalantly said that we would be seeing “flames” by the wings when dumping fuel. Apparently this is a natural phenomenon under these circumstances.

The closest airport was Lisbon and that’s where we would make a “stop”. Except the patient and their family, no one else was allowed to disembark. They managed to find some staff available on Christmas Day to attend to the patient. Hope everything worked out for them. By now, I was sure I would miss my connecting flight in Doha. And indeed that was the case.

Dec 25, 2013

Every passenger was understandably frustrated and kind of sad at the same time. Yes, it was an unfortunate turn of events that led us to this situation but at the same time, everyone was longing to get home (or wehrever else they were intending to go). The interesting thing was I saw a permanent sign that said “Delayed Flights/Temporary Hotel Accommodation”. This means, that people at DOH deal with such situiations on a regular basis; so much so that it warranted such a sign!

There were a ton of people (obviously) looking to get their flight rescheduled and I figured we would be waiting in line, by the said sign, for hours. And that’s exactly what happened. Finally it was my turn and I got (as did everyone else who didn’t have an alternate flight to their destination that night) accommodation for a day in a five star hotel, free food, free transportation to and from the airport and a 24hr VISA to roam around in Doha. Sweet deal, I thought.

Dec 26, 2013

I got to see Doha and fed myself like there was no tomorrow. I bought the (very expensive) hotel Wi-Fi and Skyped with my parents and let them know of my status. Also, I had to cancel the train ticket that I had reserved earlier for that morning and book a new one for the next day. I just walked around Doha aimlessly. I took random turns and all the streets looked the same. I walked for about 5 hours. When I got tired, I took a cab back to my hotel and slept for a few hours until it was time to head to the airport. I would have overslept had it not been for the front desk lady who called my room phone to wake me up. I got to the airport to head to BLR. Cleared (the non-existent) security, got to the gate, boarded the plane, waded through people to reach my seat and went “sigh Finally”. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Qatar Airways … bla bla bla … we are experiencing a slight delay due to technical difficulties …”. What?! :(. :@. Not again.

Dec 27, 2013

The actual flight was fine but by the time I reached Bangalore, I had very little time to make the train. I hurried through customs and other formalities to get to the ground transportation section to get a cab to the railway station. This is where I think I could’ve been more efficient. I could’ve directly used my US credit card and got it over with. Instead, I tried using my Indian debit cards at an ATM. For the life of me, I couldn’t get them to work. I wasted some valuable seconds here which later proved to be very expensive. Also, I didn’t have any Indian currency (₹) on me. I hadn’t seen the need and had ignored such emergency possibilities. Appropriate time for Captain Hindsight. After failing with those cards, I used my US Credit Card and prepaid for the cab.

I’m in the cab now and explain to the driver that we had to make a ridiculous amout of time. He took it as a challenge and started driving Vin Diesel style. To be fair, he never seemed to have lost control and he gave the vibe that he knew what he was doing. We reached the railway station and it was his personal best time. Perhaps, a Bengaluru record. Who knows? That’s not the point. I had missed my train by around 93 seconds. I’m looking at you, ATM-at-the-airport. :/

I have a huge near-50lb check-in bag, a slightly more manageable cabin bag and a backpack. I haul these monsters for a mile or two inside the railway station which has upwards of 10^10 mandatory steps that one has to climb and descend. I noticed that there was a train to Haveri in about an hour. I have no ₹₹₹ on me to purchase a ticket. I sold $2 to the guy at the payphone for about ₹120. This is one of the crappiest deals that I have knowingly made in my life. It had to be done. I called my parents and got them up to speed with the situation. I had some ₹ remaining from this deal which I used to purchase the ticket (yes, they are cheap). My parents had also called an uncle of mine who lived close by to check with me. I was chilling in my seat in the train and I saw my uncle approaching. He warned me that this train was slow as heck (may be that’s why it was that cheap?). The train was about to leave; he gave me some money for the road and went on his way.

7:00 am
My uncle called my parents and let them know that I would be late. Had I made the train I missed, I would be home by 2pm. This train would be slower. Big deal. I would get home, what, a couple hours later? That didn’t affect me at all. I got to meet different kinds of people.

11:00 am
The lethargy of the train only mirrored that of the people traveling in it. Everyone was so relaxed and didn’t seem to have a care about the world. I tried to make some small talk. It was easy given the attention grabbing baggage I had with me.

4:00 pm
I decided to get a quick nap and when I woke up, I found that the train had stopped at a small town station. Even for this train, it felt like we were at this station for an eternity. I talked to my fellow passengers and they said that the part of the train that was supposed to go to Haveri had already left. The carriage I was in, was going somewhere else. I hurriedly grabbed my baggage and got out of the train. So here I am stranded, outside this I-don’t-know-where-I-am place.

Chikjajur Railway Station

I talked to some people and figured out that the nearest city was Davangere and that there is a private bus service that would take me there. Had my uncle not given some money I would have been stranded here until police would find me after my parents filed a missing person complaint.

The said bus arrived brimming with people and I barely managed to squeeze my bags and myself in. I was told that it shouldn’t take more than an hour to travel 15 miles to get to Davangere. I managed to make friends with the guy next to me. He was intrigued as I stood out like a sore thumb in that bus. We laughed at my situation and he was kind enough to offer his phone for me to call home. My parents had already left and I told my aunt (who answered the phone) to instruct my parents to wait at the bus station instead of the railway station! I decided to keep the call short since it was a courtesy call offered to me by this gentleman. But the call ended up freaking out my parents because they wondered why would I discard a perfectly working train for a bus!

Half an hour in, we would have a flat tire. At this point, I started to think if I was in some sort of Truman Show. Someone is preventing me from getting home! Something’s up!

7:00pm
I finally reached Davangere. I called my parents and put their worries to rest. At least, for now.

8:00pm
For the first time in this journey, I was on a public transport vehicle whose destination was Haveri.

10:00pm
Hugged my parents and we were on our way home. :)

Dec 28, 2013

Midnight. After 4 days and a few flights, trains, cabs and buses, I was finally home. I was starving. The last meal I had was in-flight dinner (yuck) in Doha (remember that place still?) a long time ago. Ate to my heart’s content and had a good night’s sleep.

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