Rendezvous with the Indian Railways

The board outside read Pune Railway Court. It is hard to notice that board between all those chai ki tapri’s and thela waalas. But I had seen that board once and hence did not have a problem seeing it. I went inside. It is an achievement to trace the path to that building amidst all the sacks of stinking vegetables lying on the way.
I went inside. The inside of the court is a mayhem to say the least. You can see cardboard boxes with their contents spilling outside. This basically is the department of the Pune Railways which deals with loading and unloading personal goods, bikes etc. The normal procedure is to register whatever your goods are, get them packed and they promise that they will deliver it in three days. The reason I was here was that one of my friends was stupid enough to believe their promise, and did things the official way. HE got his bike packed and paid the normal fee. He is still waiting to get his bike.
I went to the station. There was a small room inside with four people sitting in a row. From the outside it had a look of those paid public toilets where you pay a rupee and relieve yourself. I did not dare to go there. I saw a guy was sitting nearby on a packed bike.
“ Bhaiya, Mere dost ne ek hafte pehle ek bike pack karayi thi, abhi tak nahi pahunchi hai…”
This was all I could say before he raised his finger and directed me to another person on another packed bike. I feel these guys have a choice for bikes. The first person was sitting on a packed Bajaj Pulsar and another was sitting on a Royal Enfield.
“ Bhaiya ,Mere dost ne ek hafte pehle ek bike pack karayi this, abhi tak nahi pahunchi hai.”

Bhaiya looked at me. One hard glare.
“Kahan bhejni thi…?” Came a booming voice
“ Nagpur”. Said a low voice from my throat.
“Pahuti hai…???” said the booming voice
“Pahuti ka number hai….” The low voice came again
Pahuti means a receipt. I also did not know it until I heard John Abraham warning people on Radio Mirchi “Mamu se Pahuti zaroor maangna“ on Radio Mirchi.
“ Do minute ruko. Sahab bahar gaye hain aa jayenge paach minute me”. Booming voice.
“ Office Kidhar hai. Main udhar hi rukta hoon.” Low voice.

He raised his finger in another direction. These people are so good in giving directions that they can give the mamus on our roads a run for their money.
Anyways the direction was to an office. Rather a table partitioned by a cupboard on one side and those cardboard boxes on another side. The table was rather big. There were two people already sitting on it. One guy was deep in work staring at his register. Other was a railway guard trying to figure out how to break his concentration. I stood outside.

After a long ten minutes “ Sahab” came. Sahab was a character. His hair had a look, as if he was trying to pull them from both sides all day long.
I would take this opportunity to thank all the people who argue over topics on Infy BB. I thank that one person who sends a really readable forward of all those ten crappy forwards I get. Had these people not been there my hair would have been like the hair of our SAHAB.

“Haan, Kya kaam hai” Sahab said.
“ Mere dost ne ek hafte pehle ek bike pack karayi thi, nagpur ke liye, abhi tak nahi pahunchi.”
“ Pahuti hai?” The railway guard sitting beside Sahab enquired.
“ Gaadi dost ki hai. Pahuti uske paas hai. Number hai mere paas”.
“ Number kya hai” Sahab asked
“409551” I replied.
Sahab opened his register.
“ kab di thi?” Shab asked
“ 16 taareiq ko”. I replied
Sahab started to go through the pages dated from 16th of the month.
The software engineer in me wanted to ask him, why don’t you automate this system. This would be a matter of writing a simple JSP.
“ AAp do register kyun nahi rakhte, ek mein jo gadiyaan pack karte hain unka number likhiye aur ek mein jo gaadiyan bhej dete hain unka. Aasani ho jayegi na” I asked

Then I got a “ YOU-THINK-YOU-KNOW-BETTER-?” look. I know that look. I have got that look many times from my old man. And I know the solution. It is to shut up and let him do is job.

“Dekhiye yahan 409550 aur 409552 hai, 551 nahi hai” Saab says.
“ Yahan 409561 aur 581 bhi hai. Aisa ho sakta hai ki yahan galti se 551 ke jagah 581 ya 561 likh diya ho.” Saab said.

“ To ab kya kar sakte hain?” I asked

“Wahan flyover ke neeche bahut saare gaadiyaan pack kar ke khadi hain. Wahan check kar lijiye”. Saab said
“ Wahan nahi mila to ho sakta hai, ki aapke dost ne agent ko kuch paise diye ho, aur gaadi usi din Chadha di gayi ho” The smart railway guard said.
“ Nahi uske paas to gaadi nahi pahunchi hai” I replied.
“Ok aap flyover ke neeche dekh lijiye. Tab tak main yahan dhoondta hoon”. Saab said
There is flyover over the pune railway station. It is about 500 metres away from Sahab’s office.

I went there and saw a solitary bike standing there. That was not my friend’s bike.

I returned to Sahab’s office. The table was empty. All of them gone. The persons on the Pulsar and the Enfield were also gone.

I came out of the station and Dialed my friend’s number.
“ Dude report your bike as missing to the police.”