Dhrutikam Mohanty narrates the tale of the only train that links Baripada to Bhubaneswar but is shunned by the very passengers on whose persistent demand it was introduced
the Baripada-bound superfast express is ready to depart from Bhubaneswar. The compartment that I am in wears a sparse look. With a lot of free seats available, the passengers on board are lolling about. “This is perhaps the only train that gives you ‘sleeper’ class comfort for the price of a chair car seat,” says Abinash Baboo, casting a glance at his relaxed co-passengers.I cannot help wondering whether this is how empty this train is everyday. “Yes indeed,” says Baboo. “This is how it is everyday.” That’s surprising, given that 2892 Baripada Superfast was introduced on popular demand and in response to decades of agitations and petitions. It’s the only train that connects Baripada, the headquarters of Mayurbhanj district, to Orissa’s capital city. The train has six reserved inter-connected chair cars, besides two general compartments. I decided on a walkthrough. It isn’t just my compartment, D-1, that is almost empty. The rest of the train is no different. Each bogie has 64 cities, and none is carrying more than 15 to 20 passengers. It’s obvious why most people are reclining, rather than sitting, on their seats. I ask the travelling ticket inspector—his lapel badge identifies him as S.C. Saboto—why the train is so empty. “The reserved compartments have fewer passengers because it costs Rs 15 more than an unreserved coach,” he replies rather casually. But the explanation doesn’t quite wash because I am aware that the bus fare is Rs 75 to Rs 100 more than the train fare. So why do people prefer to travel by road to Baripada from Bhubaneswar? I direct my question to a senior citizen seated in front of me. He’s reading the evening edition of a local daily. He lifts his gaze and answers: “This is the handiwork of the bus owners. There is a nexus between them and a few railway officers. That is why the timing of this train is so inconvenient that passengers are compelled to opt for a bus.” The gentlemen, Naba Kishore Swain, a retired Baripada-based government employee, regularly boards the train to Bhubaneswar in a bid to expedite the clearance of his pension papers at the state accountant-general’s office. He should know. The train leaves Baripada at an unearthly hour, 5 am. On the trip back from Bhubaneswar, it reaches Baripada after 11 pm.
“It is really badly timed. When someone comes to Baripada from Bhubaneswar, you reach almost at midnight and on the other side if you want to go Bhubaneswar by this train you have to leave for the station before sunrise. That is why ladies and senior citizens do not prefer to travel by this train,” says another co-passenger, Prashant Sahoo. He works for an NGO and has been living in Baripada for the last three years. “When I travel with my family, I prefer the bus,” he adds. “Moreover, over 60% of the passengers alight in Balasore. That’s why people have started calling it the Bhubaneswar-Balasore Express.”Baripada is an important town of North Orissa. This was where the Australian missionary Graham Staines did his philanthropic work. The town also attracts tourists because it is the gateway to Simlipal sanctuary. Before Independence, Mayurbhanj state, ruled by the Bhanj dynasty, had its own narrow gauge railway. It was constructed by the British government with funds supplied by the king. It was the Bengal Nagpur Railway Company that laid the tracks. Its first section, the 32.5-mile-long Rupsa to Baripada line was opened for traffic on January 20, 1905. The line was later extended to Bangiriposhi. In 1950, this line became a part of South Eastern Railway. For a long time, a small narrow gauge rail service, was run here.“We had to fight a battle for 40 years to have the Rupsa-Bangiriposhi line converted from narrow to broad gauge. This new service was launched in 2006,” says Manmathonath Bhanj, who boards the train at Balasore. It is a round 11 pm. The train halts at the tiny Thakurtota station, which is only a few minutes short of Baripada. I look around the compartment. There are only five passengers left in the coach. The train enters Baripada at 11.25 pm, 15 minutes late. Outside, I hire an auto-rickshaw. In front of the station stands another engine. “This is a replica of the old narrow gauge engine,” says the driver. Baripada is trapped in a time warp. The extension of the Rupas-Bangriposi line was expected to alter the lives the town’s denizens. The dream remains unrealised.
