Reading "Relay by railway” by Rusi Sorabji (Parsiana, December 7-20, 2020) brought back sweet memories.
The writer has made mention of the custom of throwing coins in rivers while traversing them by train. This was originally meant to appease the river goddess when one crossed a river in a boat, especially when the water was turbulent. Earlier, people offered food or sweets to the water, as it would feed the fish as well, but they later opted for coins when it became easier to do so. Prior to the 1850s coins were rare. With the advent of rail travel, the tradition continued and coins were tossed from trains while crossing rivers.
FIROZ PESTONJI
Perth, Australia
holiday@aussieperthtours.com.au
I had to write to say how absolutely I enjoyed the Parsiana of December 7-20, 2020. I loved "The flamboyant flier” which was both informative and enjoyable; the article "Spotlight on Siodia” and "The soul of Sabavala” in Events and Personalities with the accompanying pictures, though I wish they had been larger, especially The Women III (Sabavala’s wife Shirin, I think, was a Nagpurite, one of the beautiful Dastur sisters). Both pieces on art captured my fancy, although I’m usually not much interested in the subject. Berjis Desai was as entertaining as ever.
Nostalgia engulfed me while reading Rusi Sorabji’s "Relay by railway” As a child, my family and I travelled frequently between Nagpur Central Provinces and Bombay on the Calcutta Mail via Nagpur (Great Indian Peninsula Railway). I was scared stiff of the huffing and puffing steam engine — a monster with its ear-blasting whistle! We used the Bombay-Wardha-Nagpur route.
I have vivid memories of the elegant dining cars. It was the highlight of my journey to be taken to the gracious dining car. We children had to spruce up and pass the inspection of our mom, so that we would not disgrace the family in the car. I can still savor the taste of Brandon’s mouth-watering curry and rice as well as the fascinating wobbly fruit jelly. They have yet to be rivaled, as does the noiseless, efficient, courteous service of the bearers in their spotless uniforms. We would travel in the dining car from Nagpur to Wardha, about an hour’s journey. What gracious days those were! The adventure of dining in style in the car was cut short when, on one journey, we returned to our bogie just in time to save our luggage being carried off by a stranger!
Dining cars were detached at Nagpur station and shunted to a siding on arrival in the morning, and then re-attached to the returning Calcutta Mail in the evening. My dad would invite the manager to spend that interval relaxing at our lovely, spacious bungalow at Byramji Town (later re-named New Colony) instead of stewing in the heat of the dining car. I especially recall one Mr Taraporewala (Tarapore?), a tall slim gentleman, soft-spoken, good-natured and a great sport. He once tried to learn roller skating on our verandah and took many falls, much to my childish delight.
It was a thrill to watch the change of engine from steam to electric at Igatpuri to take us up the magnificent green clad Ghats, especially when the Mail plunged into the dark, cool tunnels, whistling furiously. Ayah said that was to frighten away ferocious bandits hiding there to snatch away naughty girls from the train! At the next stop, Kasara, the steam monster would once again be attached, to huff and puff and chug us to our destination.
We would arrive, covered from head to foot in coal dust. In those days we really travelled. Today, we just arrive.
I often wonder about Nagpur and those wonderful, slow paced times. I hope Parsiana writes on the old Nagpur, circa the late 1930s and the 1940s. Nagpur has produced so many famous Parsis who have enriched our lives. In the meantime, I can dream, can’t I? AMY BILIMORIA