Read Online Around India in 80 Trains by Monisha Rajesh - Free Book Online

asked him why he wanted to leave India, just as it was reaching a turning point.
    ‘It is true that India is now doing very well,’ he said. ‘But this is only true for some people.’
    ‘But I thought Indians who went to university abroad are now coming back to India because this is where it’s booming. Even Indians who have never lived here?’
    ‘Yes ma’am it is booming, but for people who are low on the scale, this makes no difference. The rich are even richer, but the poor are even more poor than before. And now they want many things that they see but can never afford.’
    ‘What do you think will happen?’
    ‘They are slowly learning their rights and they are no longer keeping quiet. The time will come. One day they will refuse to accept this. But it will take some time.’
    Another butler appeared from around the corner and Benoy leapt to his feet.
    ‘Enjoy your afternoon in Udaipur ma’am, it will be very special.’
    The day in Udaipur sailed by like the boats on Lake Pichola. A tour around the palace ended with the distribution of traditional pagris for the men, and scarves for the women, their vegetable dyes leaving splodges on my neck like angry eczema. A sound and light show boomed and beamed before dinner and a tired troop flopped early to bed, as the following morning was Tiger Morning!

    A damp chill clutched my chest as I jumped down the train steps. It was barely dawn, the birds were asleep and a handful of crickets was burning the midnight oil. Sleepy talk floated on puffs of breath and a mist curled itself around the carriages. Three tank-like jeeps were parked nearby and the Bumpkins squeezed into the front row of the first. Everyone else scrambled towards the other two. Sweeping the pools of dew from the seats with his hand, Raju the driver jumped down and passed a mountain of rough blankets over the sides. He wrenched the gear stick, scraping metal on metal and the jeep roared off to Ranthambore National Park. A steady blast of wind tugged the skin from our bones and dragged tears down the sides of our cheeks. At the gates to the park the jeep had a seizure, the engine cut out, and Raju jumped out and disappeared for ‘something’. While we waited, a stack of bodywarmers rose up at the side of the jeep and a row of baseball caps bobbed past. Men in shawls stood around, hands behind backs, eyes shining in the light of their beedis. Each wore a pair of camouflage-coloured earmuffs that clipped around the backs of their heads.
    ‘Bulllllll-a-clawa!’ a man called, who was wearing a holey sweater, a bodywarmer, a tasselled shawl, a scarf and open-toed sandals. He hurled a handful of balaclavas over the side of the jeep.
    ‘No, no thank you, we don’t want anything,’ Bob said, pushing them back.
    ‘Yes, bulllllllllll-a-clawas, very good price, very warm,’ the man insisted, standing on his toes and pushing back on the other side. He and Bob engaged in a tussle while at the back of the jeep a selection of baseball caps landed in Marie’s lap. She tried to hand them back as Cyril put one on.
    ‘Can we please go?’ Bob asked, looking around for Raju, who was sipping coffee between thumb and index finger, nattering to a group of friends. There was nothing wrong with the jeep. It was standard procedure to break down by a group of hungry vendors. By the time Raju strolled back, Cyril was grinning from under a new baseball cap and Bob was sporting a new bodywarmer. He sighed. ‘It is very warm, I have to say.’
    After a couple of hours the sun had climbed high enough to wink through the trees and warm patches in the jeep. Bob had shed his bodywarmer and the blankets had slid onto the floor. Jane was listing species of kingfisher on her notepad, pointing to a pair of chubby turquoise specimens wearing orange bibs, when a yelp punctured the silence. The guide held up a hand and tapped the driver on the shoulder to stop the jeep.
    Silence.
    A rustle of wind blew crispy leaves around the