Who do you want to become?.....

While I was in elementary school, my ambition was to become a coal locomotive engine driver- now called ‘loco pilot’.    (There were no diesel or electric-powered locomotive engines in those days.)  If I remember correctly, it was while I was in the second standard that our class teacher asked us one by one-

“Who do you want to become”?

Many said:

“Á teacher”

The children just wanted to please the poor teacher by declaring solidarity with her profession.

When my turn came, I quickly stood up as if I were to give a parliamentary speech and said loudly:

“A locomotive engine driver.”

The teacher was totally taken by surprise.   She could not imagine his student becoming a loco engine driver looking through the window of a locomotive with soot, oil and grease on his dress.   She pointed out all this and tried to change my dream.  But I was stern. I said:

“Yes I want to look through the window of my speeding locomotive. I don’t care how dirty my dress is”.  

I still remember the way her face changed when I said this.

This is the beginning.   Knowing my interest my father bought me books in Malayalam about locomotive engines and sooner I was familiar with many of the locomotive engines that were used in India at those times.  Rail cars,  railway stations, and passengers were of no concern to me but only locomotive engines.

Whenever my grandfather or my parents planned a rail trip be after a month, it was enough to thrill me that I would not think of anything other than the train journey.  I would ask my father a few times:

“Dad, during our trip to … what type of engine is going to haul our train -WP 7200, WP 7161 or M 120 ?”

My dad knew what was my taste and seriously reply:

“I am sure it is going to be a WP 7161”.

Finally the eventful day would come, and I would never come down from the ‘ Cloud 9’ stage in exchange for a kingdom.   Trains were not crowded like this before and hence for the journey, I could easily get a window seat.   I rushed for the window seat that moved in the forward direction that would enable me to watch the engine turning curves letting out a cloud of steam.   Though I always wanted to sit in the car next to the engine, my father persuaded me to sit somewhere in the middle car to escape from the flying carbon pieces from the engine.  But I enjoyed the carbon missiles hitting my face and my dress getting dirtier.   I would sit watching through the window throughout the journey irrespective of my mother’s warning that my infatuation for the loco engines was crossing limits.
When we returned home after the journey, I was totally blown out and dejected.

By the time I reached my tenth grade, I was familiar with the technical specifications of the locos, how they worked the special techniques used by the engine drivers, and so on.    I never missed a chance to go to the railway station. I was very particular that if any gusts were to come they should be received at the railway station and in the same way they should be seen off.   Our guests thought that I was a wonderful boy who was extremely affectionate and loving.  Anyway, people back home knew my intention behind this receiving and seeing off.

While at the railway station, I quietly move away from the guests and my parents and go to the end of the platform to watch the engines and chat with the engine drivers.    Once I asked an engine driver if I touch the engine and the driver gladly stepped down from the engine with my father and the engine driver holding me I bowed down and couched one of the huge ‘ coupled wheels’. For me, it was a memorable incident in my life.   May be the same as what Collin felt when he landed on the moon! 

Before I reached the university, my ambition changed several times and while at the university, my ambition was to become a company secretary.   But, sadly I did not become even a typist in a company!

If one cannot forget his/her first love for life, how could it be possible for me to forget my first ambition?   It has always been in my mind though many of my later ambitions tried to chase it away from my mind.   I longed for some drivers to take me into the ‘Cab’(driver’s cabin)  and even offer me a ride. But I did not get such a kind of invitation and I did not request either. 

Before visiting The American Rail Museum in Frisco, Dallas was that you could climb into the Çab’of most of the loco engines exhibited there.   It was another thrilling experience to be in the cab of exhibit  NO. 4501  a coal-fired engine converted to oil-fired-   I sat on the driver seat and all the instruments and levers were familiar to me. I thanked my father for getting a planet of books in English and Malayalam about steam locomotive engines. I looked through the ‘Struts (Paneled window by the engine driver)’.  The guide was standing some five feet below me and the horizon of Frisco was visible.  I tied a kerchief covering my head with the opposite ends of the kerchief tied at my back head.  I stood by the open gate and holding the steel bar looked at the front focusing on the boiler cover of the engine.  

I felt as though the engine was moving through a vast terrain bordered by tall mountains on both sides.  I was so happy that I was driving this majestic engine that had always been my childhood dream. There was a small curve on the track and to ward off any animals on the tracks the whistle must be blown.  With my left hand, I pulled the ‘ whistle string’. The guide's words:

“Sorry. The whistle strict does not work”

 brought me back from my dream.

If someone asks me what was the unforgettable moment in my
life; I will definitely reiterate this experience.   I climbed down the locomotive with the happiness that I could accomplish a part of my childhood dream.   The coal engines have become museum pieces and I do not have any remote chance of the dream being fulfilled anytime in the future.