Leaving Mumbai for Rajasthan

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the train pulled out of Bandra statino. Memories of the happiness I found in Mumbai flooded my mind-- the laughter, the friends, trips to Lovanla, to Water Kingdom, and to Elephanta Island, coffee at Barista, quiz night at Zenzi, late-night chai with Manu and Rahul, perfecting my roti making skills in a suffocatingly hot kitchen, breakfasts with Vibhu, daily soduko with Rahul, hours and hours of VH1, MTV, and HBO, drinks at Toto's, and dinner in Bandra, grocery shopping at HyperCity, and my daily fix of pineapple, orange, and sugarcane juices. Leaving was much harder than I had expected it to be.

Against the concern of Vibhu and Rahul, I decided to travel to Udaipur on a wait list ticket, meaning I'd get a seat if one became available. And for an overnight journey, a seat is a definite plus! I boarded the train and Vibhu spoke to a family seated nearby to ensure that they'd look after me and help me to find a seat. We said our goodbyes, and the tears started almost immediately. I felt like I was leaving a piece of me behind.

A few hours into the journey, the ticket collector came through our carriage and told me that after the 10pm stop I could sit in seat #50. And so after a dinner of snacks from various stations and a cup of chai, I settled into seat $50, prepared my bed and was lulled to sleep by the gentle swaying and rocking of the train. Around 3am I was jostled awake by a man tugging on my hair, shoving his ticket in my face. Blurry-eyed and still drifting on the shores of sleep, I focused on the ticket that was being held much too close to my face, and soon realized that I was in his seat. There was no denying it, he had a confirmed ticket and I didn't. I had to move. I gathered up my sarong and shawl, pulled my backpack off the berth, and drowsily wandered multiple train carriages in search of a place to sleep. Every berth was full with two and even three people, families huddled on the floor, and mounds of luggage took up any remaining possible space in the cramped train. Defeated, I found a small space on the floor between two families, and pushing my backpack underneath a seat, I laid out my sarong, and using my purse as a pillow and my shawl to shield my eyes from the florescent lights, I tried to drift back to sleep. Surprisingly, the hard floor and the cramped space I wedged myself into provided a cozy cocoon for a few hours of relatively uninterrupted sleep. I woke to a sore hip, a numb arm, and the sight of a portuly man lowering himself from an upper-berth, his feet destined for my head. Once the train begins to stir awake, there's no more sleep to be had. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, folded up my bedding, and looked for a cup of chai to drown away the sleepy-fog that filled my head.

Somehow between enjoying afew cups of chai, brushing my teeth and splashing my face with water, I managed to miss my stop. Sitting by a window and diligently inspecting each station its its identity, I realized something was wrong when I spotted a street sign indicating that Udaipur was 123km is the opposite direction. A few minutes later, the train rolled to a stop at Ajmer Junction, the final destination of the train. I frantically tore through my guidebook to figure out where I'd ended up and was relieved to see that the tiny town of Pushkar was only 11km away. Pushkaris about half-way between Udaipur and Jaipur, and is frequented by tourists in search of respite from the chaos of Delhi and Jaipur. Pushkar is also a major pilgrimage center and devout Hindus are expected to dip in the waters here at least once in their lifetime. The town's sacred atmosphere, picturesque surroundings, and mela-induced fame make it the perfect place to start my journey to the north.

Rajasthan is a place of romantic desert dreams--camels and elephants mosey alongside cars and traffic, turbaned men twirl foot long moustaches, and women in brightly colored saris balance water jugs on their heads. Yet despite the money that tourism brings here, Rajasthan grapples with India's lowest literacy rate, and immense caste and gender inequalities.