Mumbai/ Agra - Day 1

Prelude:
My manager and associate-boss had been to India, after their client meeting in China. They visited India for three days, of which they spent each day at one tip of the Golden Triangle (Delhi-Jaipur-Agra). On their return; I was told several stories of their experiences in India and most of all at the Taj Mahal in Agra. After the beautiful rendition of their first reactions at seeing the Taj, they looked at me with a "You know this..You must've been there, right?". I answered with a sheepish grin"No, actually I havent"...to myself I said "In 23 goddamn years of my life spent in India and having widely travelled within the country, this is one place I have'nt been to". Thus; with immense shame and unshakeable resolve, I made up my mind to visit the Taj, in the 3 weeks that I was to spend in India.
Day 1 (Friday 10th Sept 04’):
Snehi, my long time school friend promised to accompany me on this trip, but with a restricted budget and time-frame. (I was and still am very thankful to Snehi, for accomodating my random and rushed plans to Agra, in her tight schedule and pocket:) So we decided to take a train to Agra ( A/C 1st Class was unanimously agreed upon).
Mom insisted on taking the day off work, to be able to drop me to Kurla Terminus, now called Lokmanya Tilak Terminus (renamed a few years ago, in the wake of the nationalistic temperament, instigated by the Shiv Sena in the country for overwriting every "English" name with a regional one). She wanted to assure that I get to the terminus safely, since now I was an NRI, typical behaviour expected of most moms' I know, when their NRI kids return home for vacation. Snehi was to meet me at the train station directly.
I was surprised and very impressed to see that our train left exactly on time. Before leaving the station, a gentleman came up to us and asked us where we were headed to. When we replied "Agra", he requested us to keep an eye on his old mother, travelling in the adjacent six-seater. Snehi being the blessed soul that she is, promptly agreed and assured him that we would take very good care of her and the man alighted the train; a satisfied soul. Another one of those train episodes, which could only happen in India; where travellers take the liberty of entrusting their responsibilities, with their fellow travellers, then be it the care-taking of their aging parents, young children or even their luggage; things you miss sometimes when you live outside India.
Snehi and I seemed to be the only two people in our six-seater cabin in the train compartment, so we sprawled out, literally, reading our respective books. We had never ever vacationed together, in the past 13 years of knowing each other and being close friends, so this trip was definitely special to both of us.
Amidst endless laughter and foolish remarks, we spent the first few hours of our train journey. Snehi kept worrying herself and irritating me by asking me frequently "Do I look provocative, lying down like this?", to which I would always reply with a smirky "No!" It was my first train journey after May 2001, when I went with some friends to Ahmedabad and Delhi for thesis based research. So; it was interesting to note the differences that a train journey involved in this new "shining" India.
Being mobile in India meant, that Snehi was free to conduct her remaining hours of the day's work, on the phone. Among many official calls, Snehi dearest, spent some of her time on the phone with her boyfriend Atit, who had conveniently decided to excuse himself from this trip, blaming our random travel plans as a big waste of time.
Eating in the train was another flavour of a train journey in India. Mom had made sure we would'nt buy too much food on the train, so she had packed us a bundle of lunch, all of which to our surprise, was consumed within 10 mins by both Snehi and I. There were some snacks which were packed for tea-time for both this evening and the next morning, but we gulped all that down instantaneously. So there really was no other option but to buy food on the train, since we were still hungry. I think there's something about travelling in a train, that adds to one's hunger.
Simply put, the food from the train canteen was disgusting. So it would'nt be wrong to say that we slept on a hungry stomach and Snehi telling me " Why could'nt you ask your mom to pack more?" I guess Mom just did'nt realise the pack of hungry wolves she was dealing with here, twenty parathas down between the two of us and we were still hungry.
Thus, a lot of chit-chatting, mobile phone conversations, St. Snehi checking-in on the old lady in the next six-seater later, we got back to our books, me to my "India Unbound" by Gurcharan Das and Snehi to some romantic/ mushy girly crap that she's been reading ever since we were 13. Truly; a book speaks loads for who you really are! :)
A while later, in sincere emulation of the Indian- train travel ethic, we arranged our bags on our seats and placing our heads on them, called it a night. For the unaware, this is done so that if someone decides to steal your bags, he would have to do so from under your head; thus with a possibility that he may wake you up in the process:) That I couldnt sleep and kept tossing and turning all night long, is not really because I was worried of thugs. It was just that I had realised, I am a no-sleeper on the lowest-sleeper. Snehi on the other hand, did'nt seem to mind if she was sleeping on a berth or a wall. This was officially, her third nap of the day.
Sleeping in the train, ( if I am on the uppermost berth) is a thrilling experience; especially due to the trains lateral motion. I know people who cannot sleep a wink on the train, hence were naturally made watch-men while the others slept in peace.
Since I had no intentions of being a watch-woman, I put myself to sleep on some soothing jazz interspersed with the trains "tadakk-tadakk" in absolute rhythm.