Exactly at 1700 hrs, he pushed the throttle forward, and the train started moving. The enormous power with which a single engine pulled about ten bogeys fascinated him. As the train gathered momentum, the whole engine shook and settled into a nice rhythm. He looked out the window at the ten bogeys that were dutifully following the engine. Hundreds of people were scampering at the moving train: many were waving at their loved ones, bidding tearful adieu; many were running desperately to aboard with baggage on their shoulders, but as the last of the bogeys departed the platform, there was a look of utter despair and loss on the few who could not make it. A small girl was crying with a teddy bear, sorry to see the train go without being able to aboard with her parents.
He saw all this and felt sad. He had half a mind to stop the train so that the late-comers boarded, but he was bound by his duty. His human sentiments were not to interfere with his official work. And so he shut off his mind from the sorry group at the platform and looked ahead. The journey was scheduled to last for 12 hours, and he wanted to enjoy the travel before the sun set.
* * *
The train chugged along, whistling and cooing. The sight of the train moving amidst foliage of greenery, amidst the mountain passes, into the tunnels, through the gorges, on the bridges was breath-taking. For a bystander, it was like a toy train that God had initiated and the eyes never left the locomotive, and for passengers, the charisma of the flora all around held their breath. It was like a natural mobile resort and he felt proud to be guiding them all. Despite his umpteenth journey on this train as the official driver, it still was an ecstasy to watch the scenic beauty that encompassed him.
He had joined the railways as a trainee in his teens, but his natural ability to learn, and his boundless love of trains made him move the ladders of corporate corridors quickly and he was the train driver now for the last ten years, executing his job to perfection. He was an expert and all his colleagues respected him for his infallibility. He still loved his job as he loved it on his first day.
* * *
The train moved through a curved track and slowly descended the last of the mountains in its sojourn. The digital clock in the engine showed 2058 hrs. He was on time. But the journey was still in its youth, and about 8 more hours were still remaining. He knew exactly when to speed, where to slow down and where to go cautiously. Experience had rendered him many a tough situations and he had come out in flying colours on all occasions. He was a reliable man and he knew it. He also knew that right now, 658 people's lives were in his hands, his responsibility. He felt the pride swell in his heart and a small smile touched his lips. His assistant saw the smile, but did not say anything.
The train now had reached a level terrain. This was the time to accelerate. In consent with his assistant, he pushed the throttle forward. The train going currently at 50 kmph, after a few seconds touched 120 kmph. He knew there were no signal posts for the next few kilometers to stop or halt the train and he was at liberty to accelerate.
With the train going at such high speed, he was full of senses. His nerves were at the edge as the air whizzed past him. He was slightly scared, but at the same time thrilled. He enjoyed this thoroughly. The train’s headlights made the next one kilometer fairly visible, provided there is no fog. With the train traveling at 120 kmph, a single kilometer was covered in 30 seconds, which meant that the driver should know the tracks like the back of his hands.
Yet, at 2127 hrs, he sensed something was wrong. His trained eyes told him everything was not as it should be. As he and his assistant gazed through the binoculars the next stretch of a kilometer, it dawned upon them that a huge boulder was sitting prettily on the track, obviously because of landslide caused due to the heavy rains of the season. Involuntarily, his one hand went to the horn (as if by some miracle, the boulder would move away) and the other hand triggered the emergency brakes. He sensed small beads of sweat on his forehead. At that fraction of a second, he realized something. He was going to die, along with many others, within the next minute. He had done everything he could, but by applying brakes, he knew he hadn’t avoided death, but delayed it by a few seconds.
His first thought was ways of escape. His mind was blank. Apart from jumping out of the train, he had none. But jumping out of the train traveling at 100 kmph onto a rock-filled terrain would kill him anyway. He then realized he was destined to die and this was his last minute on earth. His mind raced as a kaleidoscope of feelings went through him. He thought about his dear wife and kids. He thought about his parents, his teachers, his well-wishers, his colleagues and friends. He wanted to see them one last time. Alas, this was the time of Death. Then, he thought about the 658 people in the train. He felt groundless. The thought of killing almost half as many people in one go hit him hard. He couldn’t swallow. So this is what Death feels like.
He wondered how many of them would die. The night was still early, and the rescue team would come only after hours. People would lie here moaning, shrieking for hours. He could just imagine what would happen. The engine would get completely smashed. Minimum 4 bogeys will ram into one another. Unsuspecting, sleeping passengers would have their bodies pierced with the hard metal of the train body. 658 people’s lives were in his hands, and although no fault of his, he failed. Many would die, many would be crippled for life. He would be blamed for speeding. The Railway Minister perhaps would be sacked for insufficient protection of the tracks. A small tear welled up in his eyes.
He then thought about the family which had missed this train, the despairing look in their eyes, standing on the platform, shocked at their unpunctuality; the crying girl with the teddy bear. Thank God they were late! They were destined to live. He smiled one last time.
The night was filled with the gushing air and the screaming train. He saw the boulder nearing. He was one of the privileged few who could see Death in a solid form approaching at 100 kmph. He looked at his assistant. He was much younger, and incredulous shock was written all over him.
It was nobody’s mistake, and yet, as the boulder was just a few feet away, his assistant heard him say “I am sorry, God. Forgive me”.
The train rammed into the huge boulder at a speed of 83 kmph.
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