Introduction: The bold italic lines are excerpts from a 2006 online advertisement for a luxurious Indian train trip. When I read this ad, it immediately took me back to my only experience riding on an Indian train. The non-bold text describes my experience which occurred about 30 years before I found this ad. The juxtapositioning is interesting.
I was suffering from hepatitis. When I reached New Delhi, I weighed 143 pounds, but I had been 175 pounds when I left Canada about three months earlier.
ON INDIAN TRAINS
A Palace on Wheels
Ailing and no food would stay down
No help for jaundice in this town
I got out of Nepal somehow
Torturous two days to Lucknow
a splendid and enchanting royal journey
Some great festival happening
Not much seemed to be functioning
But I had to get to Delhi
Train only possibility
a journey worthy of kings
No tourist trains please go away
Come back again in a few days
But I did not have time to wait
A few more days would be too late
one of the ten best luxurious train journeys
in the world
With help from an Australian lass
I got a ticket – second class
No tourists ever took this train
Sick and weak I did not complain
promises to be the most vivacious and vibrant
week of your life
Bench seats and luggage racks of wood
All seats were filled while others stood
Dark eyes stared as I looked around
Someone moved – grateful I sat down
fourteen coaches named after former Rajput states
I held my backpack on my knees
My tiny space was quite a squeeze
Exhausted hungry still alive
Slumped head on pack and closed my eyes
restaurants, a library, a bar, lounges
Now more than two days without food
And the last tea I drank I spewed
Must try more tea can’t dehydrate
Need some sleep too can’t concentrate
individually designed salons with ensuite bathrooms
The train left late – ordeal begun
Delhi a day and a half run
Eyes closed my other senses brought
Noise voices heat smells the whole lot
personal attendants and a lot more
Semi-conscious vaguely aware
Too ill to look too ill to care
I guess the others looked at me
And saw how bad I seemed to be
a plethora of magical destinations
At the first stop someone nudged me
Motioned that I should drink or eat
I left my pack to save my seat
And stumbled out in search of tea
traditional royal welcome at every station
Hot and milky laced with sugar
Unglazed clay cup – hope of succor
Down it went I hoped it would stay
It churned and returned right away
experience all the luxuries worthy of the affluent Indian maharajas
I stumbled back through dust and heat
Wedged back on board and took my seat
Another thirty hours or so
Indian trains are deathly slow
exuberance and extravagance are the key words
A few hours more we halt again
Another food stop for this train
I can’t even think of eating
I wonder if I am dying
a first-hand experience of the lavish lifestyles
of the Indian kings
The travelers near me see my plight
Work out a plan for me that night
They’ll take turns standing – clear the seat
Pushed me down gently raised my feet
the décor, food and hospitality speak of sheer luxury and opulence
Too weak to protest or resist
They gave all they had to assist
And mercifully I now slept
In whose god’s hands was I now kept
a heady amalgam of
the quaint charisma of bygone years
and the exhilarating ride on the wings of technology