The last leg of my trip to India was capped off in Pune. I had been there just over a week for some work and sight seeing. My flight to Bangkok was out of Mumbai departing at 2:00AM. A train or car to Mumbai would each take 3-4 hours. As I started to book I realized getting from city to city isn' as easy as the US, where you simply give your name and pay the price of the ticket. India has a state run website for online bookings. Before using the website you must first have a profile. The profile has to be approved but can’t be accessed between the hours of 9:30AM – 11:30 and turns off at 5PM. Let’s just say getting started is a nightmare. I called my friend there and asked him if he could just book me a car. After talking through it and a little research I did on my own, we agreed the train would be okay.

My friend sent me my ticket with little explanation for a 4PM train. I asked a few high level questions and just thought I would get there early enough to make adjustments on the fly. Per my usual, I was running late and any learning would have to be done in step.

I arrived at the train station to what on the surface can be described as organized pandemonium. There were people moving in all directions with a purpose, every single car in the area made it’s presence known by sounding it’s horn, and every other person was calling out for my attention to buy something. I begin pushing through the crowd with my large roller bag and 25lbs backpack. Finding the platform was easier than navigating my stuff through the bustling crowd. I found my boarding platform clearly marked by signs with the train numbers. The platform was crowded. Through the entire length, in any direction, you would be able to reach out and touch the next person in front, behind, to left and right. This extends to everyone. In short, it wasn’t shoulder to shoulder, but close to it!

I had a reserved seat in what would equate to the first class car. Looking up and down the platform I didn’t see any signs as to where this car would be located. After a few minutes the train became visible on the horizon and everyone tightened up on the platforms edge. It was like they were getting ready for something. This gave me a bit of anxiety. As the train pulled in at what would be a decent walking speed the car doors were open and people were piling into the still moving train. The gap between the train and platform was wide enough to fall in spelling certain dismemberment or possible death. The danger of hopping a moving train in a crowd wasn’t lost on me. My heart was racing as I got caught up in the commotion and decided to make a go for it without knowing if I were in the right spot. I tighten the straps on my backpack and retract the pull handle of my roller bag, we’re now in sport mode. As an open door approaches there are three men and one child jumping on and lingering through the door. Too late, I was committed to that door for my best option as I could see larger crowds down the platform. As the door approaches my 26inch reach I grab a handle and hop to get a foot on the ladder. The slack comes out my arm holding my roller bag and I was now moving down the platform holding on to the train with one arm while dragging my roller bag though the air. Now riding the train down the platform extending from an open door, there wasn’t a gap larger enough between my mass and the crowd closing in on the platforms edge we began plowing through people as we passed by. No one was spared; the elderly, women, children and men were all in my path. I remembered a school lesson of an objects inertia and total mass multiplied by it’s speed. This lesson was obvious in practice as we knocked people over with littler effort.

I managed to maneuver my bag into the door way and push my way on followed by others jumping on board. The car was dark and everyone was scrambling for a seat. I get my bag over my head and throw it in an overhead spot near and open seat and jump in. As I settled in and took note of the on-going pandemonium I noticed seat numbers that matched my ticket. I was in 92 my ticket called for 46, fuck. However, no one else was checking seat numbers and just scrambling to get a spot. A well-dressed guy with an even cooler mustache sat down next to me. Judging from the look on his face I could tell he was amused that I was there. It was a look as if to say; “wow, did you know what you were getting into”.

As the train came to a stop, and everyone begin to settle I pulled out my e-ticket and asked the cool guy next to me if I were in the right spot. In great English he explained my ticket was in the reserved car but I was now sitting in the general seating car. This explained the mad rush to get on and get a seat as it would soon be over capacity. In my mind, I thought of people now making moves to the top of the train car. We talked for a minute and he said it would be only a couple of dollars to stay there. My first thought was yes, let’s do it. It’s not worth the move as I could still see a lot of people hustling on the still crowded platform. After a moment, the guy offered to show me to my seat. This was above generous as this could mean him loosing his spot in general boarding. I insisted that wouldn't be necessary now that he had explained the numbers on the ticket to me I would be able to find it. I climbed out of the row and grabbed my huge bag again and started pushing through the crowd.

Back on the platform the cool guy had followed me. Although the train would be departing at any moment he was now walking with me all the way to the front of the train. He boarded with me and not only showed me my seat but also helped me with bag into the overhead storage. Just before leaving he shook my hand and wished me a happy journey. I doubt i'll ever see cool guy again but I hope he knows he represented his culture well. While there was less commotion in this car, I had a window seat next to what I guess is 300lbs of man in the middle. Assuming I could get in I knew I wouldn’t be moving until reaching my stop.

As we pulled away from the station I looked down the platform for signs indicating which station I was at. This way, I would be able to track my progress and know where to exit the train. I didn’t see a single sign I could read. I had already checked the number of stops and the names of each. The conundrum now is how would I know. As the sun set the tint on the train windows was so dark you couldn’t see out. There were not any announcements either. Using google maps I decided I would just track my position until reaching my station. Turns out there is an app that does this for and all Indian train commuters use this to know when to get off.

As we made our way to our first stop the crowd in the car began staging just as they did on the platform for the train’s arrival. I got anxious again. Observing, I noticed they were staging because the trains stop at the station was less than 2 minutes. Much of the time, the train wasn’t even fully stopped. People were jumping from the still moving car to the crowded platform. I pictured my self throwing my bag off first then jumping all while hoping no one got hit and injured.

I spent the three-hour ride reading and preparing for my exit. Of which, went swimmingly. I didn't even have to jettison my bag! Having experienced this train ride, I would recommend it. While there are more private ways to travel from town to town, experiencing India by train provides an unfiltered way to see the countryside and experience the culture.