' Let's go somewhere this Mahalaya!', said Mota , flailing his arms around as he does when excited. 'Very good', the rest of us answered, 'But where?' ' Diamond Harbour?' suggested Mota. 'How aboout Bandel?' Debashish offered. 'I know!', interrupted Mota, and from the fact that he had started to wave his arms around we knew he was onto something. ' Let's just go to the station and board some train, any train, and go to some strange location.' Shoumik, Debashish and I, too moved to speak, sipped our teas and nodded approval. But Suvo had an idea. And when Suvo has ideas, we willingly lend our ears. After all, he was the chap who had ragged innocent passengers on a train by asking first ' is this S-7?' and when answered in the negative 'is S-7 to be found between S-6 and S-8?' - all with prefect innocence and devastating effect. So the motley crowd that had gathered at Mama's after a long and grueling class listened attentively.
' If we want to go just anywhere', said Suvo, ' we can go there for free. And legally too.' He looked at our puzzled faces and grinned in his mischievous way. ' Simple.' he explained, 'We travel by Chetona.' For those of you who don't know what Chetona is, it is not a train you can board by buying a ticket. Au contraire, you board it by not buying a ticket. To make things clear, if you are caught traveling without a ticket, they put you in Chetona (presumably all shackled and tied up) and take you to some arbitrary location whence the guard shouts ' download!' and they dump you there and leave. Suvo's suggestion was that we travel by Chetona willingly and I took to the idea immediately.
' Well said, laddie!' I said, ' I can totally picture the scene. We'll board one of those posh, uppity trains, filled with all those cigar smoking rich thugs and their bejewelled hot wives. Then I will walk suavely to the ticket examiner and strike a polished, refined conversation with him. We'll discuss Plato and Aristotle and Spinoza's Ethics, for TEs I know are philosophical people. Perhaps we'll agree on Descarates, but have a slight disagreement about Leibniz. While we're at Nietzsche I will tell him, with complete nonchalance, 'Speaking of philosophy, did I tell you that I don't have a ticket? None of my friends do either.' You are saying that the TE would take it in his stride and tell us that Nietzsche used to do the same thing? You underestimate the Public Servant! They're men of action. When they meet a chap traveling without a ticket, they don't shrug and say ' Some people have all the tickets, others have none, and I am wearing a silly uniform. It's all absurd. ' and leave it at that. They take the chap by the scruff of his neck and put him in Chetona. And that's what will happen to us. What do you guys say?'
'It is a great idea', said Debashish, ' And you are forgetting one thing. The added pleasure of traveling with the real scums of the society, the lowliest of criminals : the ticketless travelers themselves!'
Needless to say, everyone thought it was a great idea. It was decided that this is how we'll travel at Mahalaya.
Next day, we learned that the holiday has been canceled.
' If we want to go just anywhere', said Suvo, ' we can go there for free. And legally too.' He looked at our puzzled faces and grinned in his mischievous way. ' Simple.' he explained, 'We travel by Chetona.' For those of you who don't know what Chetona is, it is not a train you can board by buying a ticket. Au contraire, you board it by not buying a ticket. To make things clear, if you are caught traveling without a ticket, they put you in Chetona (presumably all shackled and tied up) and take you to some arbitrary location whence the guard shouts ' download!' and they dump you there and leave. Suvo's suggestion was that we travel by Chetona willingly and I took to the idea immediately.
' Well said, laddie!' I said, ' I can totally picture the scene. We'll board one of those posh, uppity trains, filled with all those cigar smoking rich thugs and their bejewelled hot wives. Then I will walk suavely to the ticket examiner and strike a polished, refined conversation with him. We'll discuss Plato and Aristotle and Spinoza's Ethics, for TEs I know are philosophical people. Perhaps we'll agree on Descarates, but have a slight disagreement about Leibniz. While we're at Nietzsche I will tell him, with complete nonchalance, 'Speaking of philosophy, did I tell you that I don't have a ticket? None of my friends do either.' You are saying that the TE would take it in his stride and tell us that Nietzsche used to do the same thing? You underestimate the Public Servant! They're men of action. When they meet a chap traveling without a ticket, they don't shrug and say ' Some people have all the tickets, others have none, and I am wearing a silly uniform. It's all absurd. ' and leave it at that. They take the chap by the scruff of his neck and put him in Chetona. And that's what will happen to us. What do you guys say?'
'It is a great idea', said Debashish, ' And you are forgetting one thing. The added pleasure of traveling with the real scums of the society, the lowliest of criminals : the ticketless travelers themselves!'
Needless to say, everyone thought it was a great idea. It was decided that this is how we'll travel at Mahalaya.
Next day, we learned that the holiday has been canceled.
