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Not that I had not been using public transport during my busy career days as a SW educator, and later, as the HoI of a leading HEI of Keralam. But occasions were very limited, and it was Keralam. Now back to UP after 3 decades, I am observing with interest what the public transport experience of this enormously huge state. In less than 1 year I already had three long rides.
Bus services in general have improved a great deal. The buses, the seats, the frequency, parallel services etc are much better. The roads definitely are - with the added national highways and expressways and the improved state highways.
In western & central UP, we have buses of UP roadways, Uttarakhand Parivahan Nigam, Delhi Transport Corporation, and not so infrequent Haryana, Punjab, Himachal & Rajasthan transport corporations.
After the CMI gathering at Coimbatore on our responses to our Common Home (where we discussed use of Public Transport as an indicator of our committment to our Common Home), I get a ride to Kochi airport as my good friend was travelling in the direction by the official Innova car. The odd 160 kms are covered in 3 hours & 15 mts. My attempt at online check-in with Air India is somehow converted into a Digi yatra in spite of not having the required app. That makes the various entry points at the airport easier.
The flight takes off 15 mts late, but does a smooth landing at 11.50 pm 15 mts ahead of schedule. It takes half an hour to get out and almost 12.40 when I am finally ready to get to ISBT Kashmiri Gate. The prepaid taxi requires Ra 2500. An Uber biker induces me for a bike ride and shows the Uber bid of Rs 460. It's a tough ride of around 45 minutes, and the last leg requires my assistance with waze support. He has managed to trick the arch Trickster like Uber while getting the benefits of the Uber label to get his due. I have no quarrel.
It's past 1.50 am. And I find no direct services to Bijnor direction. My past experience of 1980s prompts me to take the Haridwar bus ready to move. It takes off at 2 am. The driver is very accommodating - he stops by a pan shop where one of the apparently inebriated young riders can get some bidi. The privileged seat across from the driver is given to another 2 so that they could have their fag while the bus is in motion. Apparently, a gracious gesture meant not to cause disturbance to fellow riders!
The other bunch is making boisterous comments ranging from Har Har gange to Modi zindabad (more in a sense of disapproval than respect), feeling hungry etc. Finally forcing the conductor to warn him, and eventually show him the door forcefully. Fortunately, it ended there. No violence. I resigned to putting up with the smoking. Didn't just feel like challenging. Halfway, I find an empty three-seater and managed to stretch on it till Haridwar. We are there by 5.50 am. I get a bus to Najibabad without delay, salute ganga mayya from the bus, and notice the drastic changes brought about on the tarmac patch running through the forest and farmlands. Just 15 kms before Najibabad, they stop for breakfast and I manage to get down at the Bijnor mode, just about 300 mts. From the ashram. It is some 300 kms and the cost is Rs 460.
Evening, I plan to board any bus going in the direction of Lucknow to reach Sitapur early morning. Fr Vijay takes initiative to arrange for a seat I teh Lucknow bus from Haridwar with a driver Madan, a catholic, who drives the roadways on that route. I wait at the bus stop from 5.10. I get a call from the conductor Neeraj that they are not far away. It arrives at 5.25, I board and get the most comfortable seat with free space to stretch my leg - the double seat behind the first seat across from the driver. The google map indicates it is 395 kms. The ticket is for Rs 645. But the bus is not moving - a family comes out with an old man who needs to empty his bowels. He needs the support of his aging wife to accomplish it, and wash himself clean? Right in front of everyone - and all are putting up with it with no murmur. The old man appears unconcerned about anything other than taking his next wavering step and be back on the bus. That duly accomplished, the bus moves and leaves Najibabad township only to turn in the opposite direction and stop for another 20 minutes for tea and snacks. These dhabas have greatly improved, with tolerably clean toilet facilities, snacks and typical North Indian food. I feel least attracted to any of the items including the kulhad tea. The noticeable addition is the welcoming announcement regarding the food with the warning that the bus will now go nonstop.
The bus proceeds further and a very heavy rain lashes out at it, making the ride cool, but visibility minimal. The wipers are not functioning, both the driver & conductor make some effort to clean the glass. By now we are at Dhampur and they locate a small workshop, get a screwdriver, do some maneuvering to get them work. This is very unlike our KSRTC where the duo would have happily called off the trip, calling up the office, and leaving the riders to fend for themselves, except for the support in putting them up on the next bus. Another 20 mts! And the rain is also gone.
2 hours gone it has covered just about 30 kms. And from the target of 12.05 waze indicates now 1.24 am! The bus moves on away from the expressway, and we are confronted with loud wailing from behind - I guess it is from a child who is looking for her dad gone out and not returned; but the wailing is persistent, the child appears inconsolable, while she babbles about the 'baba', and there is some effort by the fellow passengers to put her at ease. We realise that the senior person who had the problem with his bowels has now reached his destination - not the planned Lucknow hospital, but the ultimate one! That was why the young woman, presumably his daughter, was inconsolable. Now this has to be tackled. Another 10 kms or so, the bus stops by Kaanth Thaana in Muradabad, and another hour, police reporting is done, now the family is at peace, and the trip resumes. All are at their ease and pace. And the baba is made comfortable on his seat by his wife. At rare intervals, the muffled cries of the daughter emerge. At Rampur, the conductor tries to comfort the family by bringing some tea for them. I am at a loss as to what I could do to make things better. I say a small silent prayer.
There is another break for 15 mts. The bus has blocked off cars parked in the bus yard unauthorised.. They ask to adjust the bus so that they could go. There is no big argument - the driver comes back and adjusts the bus so that the unauthorised vehicles could get away without trouble.
10.40 pm. It's now 5 hours of the trip. And we have covered just about 170 kms. The last stretch from Dhampur seemed to have been mainly through a forest patch. Now, we are on the expressway which means no humps, no red lights and greater speed. And the waze indicates the target time as 2.20 am. But I observe that even on the best stretches, the bus does not exceed 80 km. The conductor explains that the speed is limited by default.
Now finally, the conductor Mr Neeraj is at peace. He relaxes into the front seat parallel to the driver's seat and enjoys a fag. I am in no mood for arguments or adjustments. He gives the plan for the babaji for whom his people would arrive at a pre-determined spot.
Contrasting Employee Responses: A family wants to get down at a convenient location before the Migelganj station - he facilitates that. It's late night. The family is made comfortable. That is in sharp contrast with Kerala conductors who work to rule in 'their best interests' - exceptions notwithstanding. I began this trip with a ride in a packed FP bus to Muvattupuzha from Karingachira. I had to get down at a convenient location to move to the private bus stand. When I told this to the young lady conductor she admonished me - oh you should have gotten down there and got into a private bus. (My all-grey [white] beard, apparently does not yet cut a venerable old figure with people it seems - at least no one shows the sympathy one ought to get at 60 of being a senior citizen.) The bus had just left the stop. She could very well have stopped the bus once again. I thought the bus would stop at the next junction, from where we could get a bus or an auto. But no! Then some youngsters pulled the bell string and the bus halted. I was about to get out, and then there was an argument between them and the conductor, and the bus moved on, and with my age and baggage, I didn't want to run the risk. A fierce argument erupted between the two parties and by then the bus reached the bus stand. I slipped out quietly while the argument continued.
Here, I find the conductor directing the bus for a detour just to help the people of the Babaji (he was sporting a Gheruva dhoti & shirt, and was sporting long hair and a beard) to receive him into the awaiting tractor with ease. That is done. And that is the farewell trip. The driver had turned off the music after the news of his death by way of showing respect to the departed fellow traveller and his family.
Contrast: At Muvattupuzha bus stand, the auto wallah asked Rs.60 for the trip which would have cost me. Rs. 40 if she were to let me off earlier. I didn't haggle. On reaching, I asked the driver politely if he would have change for Rs 40. He reacts rather fiercely arguing that it was Rs 60. I said peaceably that I did not ask for any less! Here in Sitapur, I cover a much longer distance by e-rickshaw and I pay Rs 50 happily for me and him, that too at midnight. What does that speak of? Standard of living or coat of living or organised labour power? (However, the e-rickshaw ride along the bumpy 4 km track was really back-breaking! Unless you adjust yourself according to the bumps, you are bound to have the impact on your vertebral column without fail! I feared if the driver was being vindictive in some fashion. Perhaps, the driver seat does not get the impact as would the passenger).
It's 3 am. In less than 48 hours, I have covered the Indian roads of Keralam, Tamil Nadu, Delhi, UP and UK in an Innova car, on a taxi bike, on Kerala SRTC, UP & UK buses, on foot, on a scooter and on an e-rickshaw. Altogether over 1000 kilometres - enjoying the rain and the changing landscape - generally green all over thanks to the monsoons, witnessing the haughty organisational power of labour in God's own country making it Dogs' own country (literally), the accommodative ownership of the state buses by its employees in North India, which help them to run on profit, and bidding farewell to a fellow traveller who just went thus 'tathagata:'
I am still to come to terms with the bindas UP style where anywhere any road is a 'road to freedom' for them - oneway easily overcome by anybody charging in the opposite direction and the rest of the crowd accommodating that, barring the exceptional bad mouthing or cursing from those who think themselves to be 'trafficly sophisticated'. The culture perhaps makes it God's own land for them!
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