I never knew how Trains came to interest and then captivate me. The long shrill of the Meter Gauge YDM Locomotive or the proud horn of the Broad Gauge WDMs, seem like they send out coded music into the air. The way the rails stretch out into the sunset horizon, never meeting once at all; the diesel locos patiently waiting for eternity with their Engines chug-chuging all along seem so poetic.
The other side to these Locos is the kind of masculine indifference they exude. We wait for long queues for tickets, hop into the train and then set about to our journeys, being pulled along by a mean, blaring machine we call the Locomotive.
Today being one of those days I got to witness the human side to it all. An Empty BTPN Rake was to be pulled out of our railway siding by a WDM 3A Diesel Locomotive. As I happened to be carrying out a pipeline inspection near the Loco, I couldn't help noticing the Driver inside. Somebody yelled into his handset that the Line was clear for movement. He released the brakes, blared out the all-important horn and pushed the button that would take his Loco out into the endless sunset. But curiously, the Rake refused to budge. Confused, the Driver, repeated the same procedure again, but with failure.
"Why doesn't it want to move?" He muttered.
My gears got into action. The mean masculinity of the Loco was lying threadbare over its failure to pull out the Rake. As if somebody had just embarassed it in a contest.
2 long hours later, finally the Rake seemed to yield.
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