The word “Lal Dabba”, used to denote the Maharashtra State Transport bus, mostly evokes at best, derision and at worst, horror. Well-heeled Maharashtrians balk at the thought of traveling in them and indeed, go into shock recollecting the trauma caused by images of rickety buses, unclean stations, rude staff and stampeding crowds of commuters.
None of this is surprising. MSRTC (better known as the ST – “Estee”) is undoubtedly guilty of neglecting passenger comfort and service standards. The attitude persists even after the Corp has started making a profit and is dreaming of going e-way with online reservations etc. Although MSRTC does a great job of providing reliable connectivity to far-off corners and remote villages of the state, basics such as clean buses/stations, courteous staff and disciplined operations are too much to expect from them in most cases, exceptions notwithstanding.
This part of the story is sad but undeniable.
But this is not the view I take when thinking of Estee.
For me, MSRTC means an undefined, vague idea of romance and adventure that is a carry-over from the childhood. I do not know how it happened, but the site and sound of an Estee always attracted me. I would notice the designs, models and number plates whenever I saw a bus on my way to school etc. The biggest charm was the destination boards bearing names of unseen towns and cities which I longed to travel to. Estee held that silly promise to me, of taking me to those places some day. I used to open the geography textbook, see the state map and wonder if Estee actually ran in all those places. Also there was the comfort of assuredness and guarantee that a kid always wants when it comes to strangers. I knew that the bus would always be there roughly at the scheduled time, that a ticket would always take me to my destination and some ingenuity and agility on my part would always get me a window seat!
Later, I got opportunities to accompany parents on long journeys across the state. To my delight, I found that not only those places mentioned on the map, such as Mahad, Kolhapur, Pune, Sangli, Aurangabad etc exist, but Estee buses ran between them too, with destination boards bearing names of towns and cities even farther!
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After college, Estee travel became a rarity. As I moved out of Maharashtra, other modes of travel such as rail and air became preponderant. I did not remember when I traveled by Estee the last time. In no small measure, the overall negative public image of Estee also took its toll on me. In any case, I had no interest in Estee’s counterparts in other states.
But the kiddish fascination survived.
Then one day, I came across the Lal Dabba blog and was delighted to see that there were more madmen like me who, though few in number, loved Estee unconditionally. The charm of watching all those photos and write-ups made me think that I must renew the association with Estee all over again, although the life now did not seem to have the necessary space and tolerance.
To begin with, I traveled by Estee to a nearby place. It brought back a surge of happy memories in spite of all the obvious discomforts. I decided that I would undertake a trans-Maharashtra journey by Estee as a payback for all those childhood dreams.
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I had to wait for a year before time permitted me to implement my plan.
The evening prior, I queued up at Nagpur bus stand to get an “unlimited” pass for four days that Estee offers for Rs 500/-. It seems to be a popular scheme as the line was quite long. An hour later, the photo-pass was ready.
My plan was to travel from Nagpur to Kankavali via Nanded, Latur, Pandharpur and Kolhapur. I had covered this route last year in my car. I expected it to take close to 24 hours.
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Day One
The next morning, I hopped into a city bus at 6 am and reached Nagpur CBS. The ride was free as well since it was covered under the “unlimited” pass. Once at the bus stand, I found many early-bird buses lined up side-by-side, to varied destinations such as Nanded, Gadchiroli, Akola, Gondia and many more. In order to maximize the experience, I decided to skip the direct bus to Nanded and got into the Nagpur – Kinwat bus which would take me to Yavatmal. I got to sit in the first row right behind the driver cabin, just as I prefer. (In fact, the other reason for my skipping the Nanded bus was that the first row was occupied!)
NAGPUR – YAVATMAL
As the driver turned the ignition, the Hino engine of Leyland roared and the conductor rang the double-bell, I felt a happy, back-to-the-roots feeling welling up inside me! As the bus drove through the city streets stirring awake, I tried to recollect my countless Estee journeys from distant past, most of them undertaken in school vacations for going to some uncle/grandpa/aunty/grandma!
The bus took a couple of stops in the city and was reasonably filled up before it crossed the urban environs to head for Wardha. The chatter of the passengers, the sound of ticket-punching and the single bell/double bell routine gave me the comforting feeling that nothing had really changed. In fact, all these familiar, reassuring things were happening in Nagpur, one of those “far-off” places of my imagination!
An hour later, we rolled into Wardha bus stand and the bus reversed to the platform. The conductor helped the driver align the bus by watching the left side and continuously signaling with his bell-ringing.
Déjà vu never felt better.
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At 11 am, I alighted at Yavatmal and searched for a bus to Nanded. To my dismay, there was none. But buses to Amravati, Shegaon and Akola were available aplenty. After a 45 minutes wait in which I patronized the Estee canteen and the cane juice shop, Nagpur – Nanded semi-luxury, which must have left Nagpur after us, came in. So I hadn’t really gained much time. I quietly got into the semi. The saving grace was that I got a front row seat here too.
YAVATMAL – NANDED
Although it was winter, the day had begun to hot up a bit. We traveled for five hours through the dusty towns of Digras, Pusad, Hadgaon and Umarkhed. It was nearly six pm when I finally reached Nanded bus stand, majorly tired and mostly out of patience.
The day was over for most passengers as they appeared to be heading for home. But I was just about halfway through my travel. The dust and the heat had gotten to my spirit which was sinking rapidly. To worsen the matters, Nanded bus stand was nearly the dirtiest and worst-maintained among all those I had seen. It was quite a shock, actually. I headed for a tea shop for a cuppa, hoping it would perk me up and chose to let go a barely filled Nanded – Solapur bus AND a more popular Chandrapur - Latur bus, a mistake for which I would pay through the following night!
NANDED – LATUR
Back at the bus stand, I made enquiries and found that my best bet was a direct bus to Kolhapur at 8:30 pm. It would mean a painful wait of two hours at the filthy bus stand which I wasn’t keen on. Coincidently, Nanded-Umarga bus lined up in front of me right then.
I wasn’t sure where Umarga was and had to read the board carefully to realize that the bus would take me to Latur. It was fairly crowded and I was lucky to get a seat. It was fully dark outside as the bus pulled out of Nanded towards Loha and Ahmedpur. It was an old-ish piece and though it was making a lot of noise, its average speed was about 35 kmph, as I could make out from the milestones! Thought the heat and dust were thankfully missing, this was the most agonizing part of the whole trip. It was aggravated by the uncertainty of whether I would find an onward bus at Latur.
We reached Latur at 10:30 pm, way past the time I was expecting to make it by. I was bracing up for another spell of waiting but Akola – Solapur bus pulled in almost immediately behind. This one had followed us from Nanded onwards. If I knew, I would have waited for it at Nanded itself but for inexplicable reasons, it wasn’t listed on the timetable.
This bus was in good condition though it too was madly crowded. I found a place to sit by sheer luck but arguments broke out among many co-passengers over who had the right of occupying a spot on account of a bag/cap/handkerchief flung through which window! Fortunately, threats of violence were not acted upon.
LATUR – SOLAPUR
Akola – Solapur bus traveled for some 30 minutes and stopped at a dhaba. Imagine – a dinner break at 11 pm! Naturally, many Latur-boarding guys objected and demanded that the bus move on. But the conductor refused to give in, claiming that passengers who came from Akola were hungry! He definitely was, it looked. The break lasted for another 30 minutes. I dozed off to a peace-less sleep and didn’t wake up till Solapur (1:30 am).
Day Two
To my disbelief, I found a badly stuffed Latur – Kolhapur bus AND an “extra” Pandharpur bus – equally full – standing next to each other at Solapur stand, with no foot space in them.
As I did not see any chance of managing an entry in these, I walked up to the controller who, surprisingly, was on duty at this hour, and asked. He told me to wait for the Hyderabad – Kolhapur bus scheduled to arrive at 2:30 am and simultaneously instructed a staff member to prepare for another extra bus to Kolhapur at 2 am.
Devoid of options, I resigned myself to another wait. The bus stand was unexpectedly crowded at such late hour. The reason was the Maghi Pandharpur Yatra.
SOLAPUR – KOLHAPUR
Fighting off sleep and fatigue, I wisely positioned myself at the main gate of the depot, hoping to grab a good seat in the ‘extra’ bus as it drove out. However, there was no sign of the extra Kolhapur bus. It was 2:30 am already and Hyderabad – Kolhapur semi-luxury entered the stand dot on time. I happened to have judged my position correctly, as I managed to capture ….the front row again!! Hoorraah!
Of course, there was still a niggling doubt in my mind as to whether the “unlimited” pass would be acceptable in this inter-state bus. But the conductor accepted it because the inter-state portion of the route was already covered and the bus was now in Maharashtra. Without waiting for too long, the bus revved up and drove out towards Pandharpur. I wore the blanket and the warm cap I was carrying and fell deep asleep in a moment.
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When I opened my eyes, it was still dark outside and we were coming to a halt near a roadside tea stall short of Sangli. It was 6 am and it was the conductor’s trademark call (“Bus paach minite thambel”) which had woken me. Thankful to him for small mercies, I got down, washed my face (An astonishing amount of grime came off) and had a cup of hot tea. I had had a good sleep for four hours and was as fresh as any Estee passenger could be!
Miraj, Sangli and Hatkanangle passed in quick succession and we were at Kolhapur CBS at 8 am.
As the bus entered the main gate, I caught a glimpse of hot batatawadas being fried at the tea shops in the adjoining narrow lane. It was too much temptation and I gave in. After treating myself to Misal, Batatawada, and tea, I got back to the platforms at 8:30 am. Disppointingly, the only bus to Kankavali was a Goa State Transport one (known as the Kadamba) from Miraj to Madgaon (Goa). It would not honour my pass. Enquiry revealed that the next Estee to Kankvali was half hour later at 9 am.
KOLHAPUR – KANKAVALI
At this point I felt I had more than repaid the emotional debt and could ditch Estee, though at a cost. I did the Kolhapur – Kankavali leg in the Kadamba bus which was very well -maintained and clean. This is no paen to Goa Government though, for ramshackle buses of Kadamba are a norm rather than exception. Besides, their drivers usually drive with a typical Goan recklessness which I dislike. This guy too wasn’t an exception.
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The trip, though more exhausting (and exasperating!) than any of my other ones, was a big psychological fulfillment. It took 28 hours instead of the 24 I expected, though in hindsight, I would have made it in much less time had I started at 7 instead of 7:30 am. Due to the half-hour delay, I missed my connecting buses at Yavatmal and Nanded. Also, the decision to let go the Nanded - Solapur and Chandrapur -Latur buses was a disaster.
Nevertheless, I relived a number of my childhood experiences. I know most of those in my age group will wonder what the fuss is all about. They would doubtless smirk at my unusual interest level in Estee. But then, isn’t each one of us marching to a different drumbeat?
