Pakistan Railways: End of a journey?
VAQAR AHMED —
Steam engine on display at Karachi Cantt. Station.
Railway stations and rail journeys are stuff dream, fantasies, adventure and endless stories are made of. Rail journeys are an apt paradigm for life itself; there is a beginning, then as you progress both the scenery and the fellow travelers change. Some that you yearn to stay, step off too soon at their own destinations; and some that you have to suffer on pain of death stay with you for the rest of your long journey.
Some fellow travelers become friends for life, some other just a fleeting snapshot in time. At each stop there is the anticipation of new itinerants. During all this, the landscape changes from flat lands to plateaus to lush green fields to wastelands, to high mountains and fearsome black tunnels. Sometime when you are brave enough to lean out of the window you can see both the head and tail of the train. For a moment, things fall in place only to hurtle you moments later into the darkness and confusion of a pitch-dark tunnel. There is endless anticipation, endless mystery: life running fast forward in time.
Quetta Railway Station 1890. -
A Bridge on the Chappar Rift in Balochistan Circa1890.
A charter train (with engines at both rear and front) about to depart from Shahgai and descend out of the Khyber Pass to Jumrud, near Peshawar (1993). -
Sukkur Barrage Bridge over the mighty Indus. According to folklore the graves (in the foreground) belong to the seven female friends who lived together and decided never to marry.
I remember well the journey I undertook as a child from Quetta to Rawalpindi. The train cut across the barren mountains and through bone-dry places with chilling names like “
Aab-e-Gum” (Vanished Water), charged headlong into the dark, unending, fearsome, Sibi Tunnel – the longest in Asia. Three black as night steam engines, one in the front and two at the rear, worked their heart out to pull the carriages through the steep mountains. The night was spent rocking through the icy cold deserts with the staccato of the wheels on the rails as a perfect lullaby. The silence was broken only by the shrill sound of the train whistle warning all to move out of the way or meet certain destruction.
After crossing the mighty Indus on the steel behemoth called the Sukkur Barrage Bridge, the train whistled through the green plains of Punjab, adorned in places by the bright yellow sunflowers, over shimmering rivers and finally curved through the endless rolling plateaus and ravines to reach Rawalpindi. This was a childhood adventure that will stay in the realm of my fondest memories, never repeated but forever told to my jet setting children.
Fast-forwarding from1968 to 2012, the dream world of railway travel has turned into a nightmare. No whistling, chugging, screaming, black monsters called steam engines; these have been scrapped and melted down for steel. One stands silent and still at the Karachi Cantonment Station as if mourning the passage of an era of mystery, reveries and hope. Tracks and locomotives are rusting away or pulled out of service due to a lack of maintenance. The few that work often stand idle due to a lack of fuel. The journeys start late or never. And if they do start, they end mostly late or never. Passengers are sprawled on platform, waiting, forever waiting.