Toy Trains

16 Nov 2009. Since the summer, I've daydreamt over and over the "toy train" ride up to Shimla, a small town in the Himachal Pradesh state of India. After a slightly nerve-wrecking, but successful ride from the New Delhi train station- at 5am, where already the street outside buzzed with cars, autorickshaws, and people coming and going, the train station crowded, dingy, and our ride up to Kalka, surrounded by mostly men and the occasional encounters of blind singing beggars, chai-wallah, and women selling socks up and down the aisles- to Kalka, a sunnier, calmer stop. And a big sign pointing TRAINS TO SHIMLA. I see the toy train and it looks like just that. The first and last cars are red, the ones in between are yellow and blue and train in whole is tiny and basic. The interior has rugged, cushioned benches facing each other and limited space elsewhere and no connection to other cars. The traditional booking system has placed a printed list of names taped to the outside of each car- SHAH M, SHA N- and we arrive in a car with a group of older British toursists, a couple local families, a honeymoon looking couple across from us and finally the train rolls off slowly. I stick my head out the window and glance in front and behind seeing many others doing the same- the car in front (the 1st passenger car) is mostly young Indian guys, heads and half bodies hanging out windows, a few standing in doorways, they radiate excitement in their smiles and cheers and whistles every time the train enters a tunnel (there are 103 tunnels on this route) and their enthusiam lasts throughout the 5 hour journey. The train is slow, at its slowest its like you could jump off and run alongside it for a few minutes, and curves and snakes and winds through green mountains and small village-towns where children smile and wave, sharing our own enjoyment of it all, over bridges and cuts so close to the edue of the mountains, tunnels, trees until you almost get swiped while leaning out too far or look down and realize 1 trip out of the train you'd be tumbling, tumbling down the cliff and at times, I extend out to touch the trees and earth that allows us to cut through it on this risky trail. We scale up and up, tiny villages scatter along the green, massive hills and they start to layer and disappear in the background fog. I spend most of the trip hanging out the window or standing in the moving doorway, even as the air gets colder, but I can't pull myself away from the sweeping earth and air beauty and I notice in the front car a boy, about 12, handsome, also staring/leaning out for most of the journey, most likely having a backward facing seat, but staring out and front and back, at us and the train and the passing scenery and his expression- complete concentration, almost stern, observing everything and as if pulling inside for even a couple minutes would cause him to miss something of this surrounding beauty. We catch glimpses sometimes and I agree with him, its too incredible to relax and sit back as if a normal train ride, but finally a British couple asks me to shut the door- damnit- and my lingering in the doorway of this painting ends. I fall asleep for half hour, as fog rolls in through the moutains or maybe its that we are simply ascending up into the clouds. I awke up to see darkness outside and look out for a while to see tunnel 80something, they are all numbered, and I like seeing the trains front head lights when we make a curve, it looks like a real toy train, and oh yes! the toot-toots! every at least 7 minutes the whole ride! We pause a few times at tiny, crowded train platforms for chai and snacks and loitering near the tracks; at one, the young guys get out and cheer, dance a bit, still after 4.5 hours they're pumping with happiness and loving being there and then, and its now competely dark outside but we're still at mountains' edge and across I can see tiny yellow and white dots shining and thorwn out across the dark mountains next to us, much like Shimla.