SHIMOGA DAYS

With unsteady hands I looked at my posting orders, all my friends have been flung far and wide, sent to serve for the largest employer - The Indian Railways. Shimoga Town, rly code SMET, a search on the map of Karnataka, revealed a tiny fleck at the end of a railway line. I  blinked, was it the end of the world, showed it to my parents , they looked grim. When I looked over my moms shoulder at my friend she had a similar shocked expression, she was posted at Bhadravati or BDVT another tiny fleck,the station next to mine, a good 30 kms distance between us.We were told that the train to our destinations will be leaving shortly, we made a run to the platform with our parents, settled ourselves among the strange looking dirty lowlifes, our maiden journey as railway employees was in an unreserved compartment.

We had to change trains at Bangalore and continued the journey with expectation and trepidation...plans were made to put us both in a hostel together midway between our stations. As we neared BDVT we could see shops and factories, which was reassuring, the rest of the way to SMET was lush green with fields and rivulets preparing us  to  rustic environs.
We disembarked (embarking on a new phase of life) at SMET, the district headquarters and the end of the broad gauge line. Within minutes the bustling platform metamorphosed into a desolate ghost town and we were  the only living souls around. We went to the vegetarian light refreshment stall for food, where we were introduced to "chitra anna" (an almost staple food in the region), a tasteless plate of  yellow colored rice with coconut chutney to accompany it, wasn't great but filled our belly. We met the station manager, a puny old gentleman who was actually thrilled to receive me ,he took me to the booking office where I was introduced to my colleagues who would become my family for the next 2 years. I was surprised at the warm welcome and positivity, it was only later that I realized I was the replacement for a person who had fled from the clutches of this desolate fleck on the aforementioned map.

We were then taken to the railway quarters, well this place or anywhere close by hadn't heard of working women's hostel yet. We had a hamal (helper) to carry our luggage, making me feel like royalty, meanwhile my friend and her dad had  gone on an expedition to BDVT . The quarters was locked but the hamal broke the lock and said "welcome to your new home", this too belonged to a desolate soul who had absconded , I was confused whether to be elated at having my first home, or dismayed at breaking and entering. A one room , kitchen with a backyard , just 4 walls no shelves or nails.

Mom was wailing at our luck on finding us in this situation. Dad and I decided to let her be and went to explore the quaint little  town.