by Hank Leukart
December 12, 2010

The train to the Taj Mahal

Chaos surrounds train ticket purchases in Delhi, India.

Customers clamor to buy tickets at the New Delhi train station.

Customers clamor to buy tickets at the New Delhi train station. (view all Delhi, India photos)

D

ELHI, India — “I’d like to buy a train ticket to Agra,” I tell the clerk in the foreigners-only ticket office in the Delhi train station. He and four twins sitting beside him are wearing long, white coats that make them look like they will be able to solve any of my medical problems — as long as those problems, of course, are train-ticket related.

“What train number?” Doctor Train Ticket asks me, annoyed.

“I don’t know the train number,” I explain. This is my first Indian Railways experience, and I’m totally clueless.

“It is not my job to tell you the train numbers,” he says. “You must go to the Enquiry Desk.” But isn’t that where I am? I wonder. Between me and Doctor Train Ticket sits a computer — 1984’s flagship model — that could surely solve all of my problems.

“Can’t you just look up the number for the next train to Delhi on your computer and put me on it?” I ask. Doctor Train Ticket acts like I’ve just asked him to cure cancer on the spot — which I’d expect him to be able to do, considering his jacket. Well, at least he should be able to cure train cancer. Visibly angry, he spends a few minutes typing cryptic commands into his computer. This guy has never heard of Windows 7 or MacOS.

“The next two trains to Delhi leave at 1:30 and 2:30, but I can only book trains four hours before they are scheduled to leave,” he says. “I can book the 5:30 train for you.” It’s 11:30 in the morning, and Doctor Train Ticket seems absolutely thrilled that he’s just ruined my entire day with a few keypresses.

“No, I want to go on the next train. Can’t you put me on it?” I ask, exhausted.

“You can only book those at windows 61 to 66, downstairs,” he says. Of course, I think. I should have known. I start to realize that there might be a huge market demand for an Indian Railways Bureaucracy Idiosyncrasies for Dummies book. I consider writing it.

Downstairs, surrounded by hordes of frantic Indian travelers, I wait in line at window 64 for about 20 minutes. Indians repeatedly push me out of the way and cut in the “line” (which is more of a mass) in front me of me until I begin to defend my territory. When I finally reach the window, I fill out a ticket purchase form, which asks for my name, address, age, and an assortment of other information totally irrelevant to riding on a train. I don’t write anything after “Train Number” and hand it to the man at the window.

“Number?” The clerk on the other side of the glass looks at me with challenging eyes. This one’s not wearing a doctor’s coat.

“I don’t know the number! Please, just put me on the next train to Agra,” I say. I’m almost ready to hijack any train to Agra.

“STOP. RED. STOP! RED!” the clerk exclaims obtusely. Apparently, only Delhi train station employees with Train Ticket Doctorates and accompanying white coats can speak coherent English.

“Red?!” I ask, looking at him with a blank stare. He turns his computer screen toward me so I can read an English error message: “CHARTING IS FINISHED; TWO HOUR TICKET BOOKING WINDOW NOT OPEN.”

“RED!” he shouts. Apparently there’s a two hour window at the beginning of the four hour window before an Indian Railways train leaves during which no one can buy a train ticket. But, then, I realize that it’s already noon, and I already am within a two hour window of the 1:30 train’s departure.

“But it’s noon!” I try to tell the clerk, realizing quickly that I’m wasting my time. After all, “CHARTING IS FINISHED.” Or something.

“RED. Wait,” he says, and motions for me to step aside.

I stand next to the clerk’s window for over an hour, checking with him every 10 minutes to see if the mysterious purchasing window has opened.

“RED!” he repeats, over and over. Strangely, I find myself missing Doctor Train Ticket, who I never liked, but at least he knew English words other than “red.” Eventually, with only 10 minutes before the train’s departure, it becomes clear that “RED!” is never going to become “GREEN!” Then, I remember a tip from an India travel connoisseur I met while traveling.

“Can you just sell me a General Ticket on the train to Agra?” I ask. General Tickets don’t give buyers assigned seats, but they can be upgraded on the train by speaking with the conductor.

“50 rupees,” he says. I pay him, and he hands me a ticket. I sprint to one of the train’s 3AC cars — Indian trains usually have an assortment of classes: Second Class, First Class, Sleeper, 3AC, 2AC, and 1AC. Second Class and First Class have seats, Sleeper has beds without bedding or air conditioning, and the three air-conditioned classes have beds (with blankets) that progressively become less congested the more money a passenger pays.

I literally run into the conductor on the way to the train. He’s not wearing a doctor’s coat but his conductor’s uniform makes him look official enough.

“What can I do with this ticket?” I ask him. “Where’s the best place I can sit?”

He motions for me to follow him into a 3AC car and points to an upper bed.

“I can upgrade you for 70 rupees.”

“Done,” I say. He writes me a replacement ticket — Indian businesses seem to love handwritten paperwork more than anything in the world (hotels often provide me with two or three written receipts). I climb over people sitting on a lower bunk and settle into my berth. Finally, I’m on my way to the Taj Mahal.

Well, actually, the train departs 40 minutes late. Maybe Doctor Train Ticket wasn’t finished charting.

Read the second essay in this series, in which I fall in love with the world’s most beautiful symbol of eternal love.

Men inexplicably wearing white doctor coats man the foreigners-only ticket office in the New Delhi train station.

Men inexplicably wearing white doctor coats man the foreigners-only ticket office in the New Delhi train station.

Passengers flood the New Delhi train station.

Passengers flood the New Delhi train station.

How to See the Taj Mahal at Sunrise and Sunset

  • OVERVIEW: The Taj Mahal — and many other beautiful sites, including Agra Fort, Akbar’s Mausoleum and Itimad-Ud-Daulah (the Baby Taj) — are located in Agra, Uttar Pradesh, which is a two- to three-hour train ride from Delhi. The Taj has a steep entry fee (750 Rs/US $17), but, hey, it’s the most beautiful building in the world. Your Taj ticket can be used to get discounts on tickets for most other attractions around Agra.
  • LOGISTICS: Fly to Delhi and ask a taxi driver to take you to the New Delhi train station to take a train to Agra (370 Rs/US $8 or 700 Rs/US $15 for a bed in 1AC), which is the easiest and fastest way to get there. You can also fly directly to Agra from Delhi for about 4,500 Rs (US $100) or take a bus (120 Rs, 4.5 hours). The notoriously dishonest taxi drivers in Delhi (and throughout India) will try to overcharge you, tell you that your hotel has burned down so they can take you to one that will pay commission, drop you at a commission-paying store instead of your destination, or bring you to a fake (but genuine-looking) tourist office where you will be told that the only way to get to your destination is by hiring an expensive car and driver. Be aware and don’t fall for any of it. At airports and train stations, try to use only pre-paid taxi stands, which can help minimize (but not eliminate) these shenanigans. If all else fails, threaten not to pay a driver or report him to the police — doing either usually fixes most problems.
  • TRAVELING BY TRAIN IN INDIA: Despite my chaotic ticket-buying experience at the Delhi train station, traveling by train in India can be one of the fastest and most inexpensive ways to travel if you can figure out the rules. If you have time to book your train at least four hours before it leaves and you want to book any AC class, use the convenient Cleartrip to look up itineraries, then book and print your ticket online. Cleartrip charges a service fee of about 25 Rs (55 US cents) per ticket, so, for cheap tickets, you may prefer to book at a station. To do this, go directly to the station’s Current Booking window within a two hour window before your train departs, fill out a request form, and you’ll have your ticket quickly if assigned seats are still available. To help with train numbers, use Cleartrip online, or buy the handy Trains at a Glance, which contains the entire Indian Railways schedule, at any train station bookstore. Book a General Ticket and ask a conductor for an upgrade on the train if no seats are available. Of course, at the hectic Delhi train station, tourists can use the foreigners-only booking office, labeled “International Tourist Bureau,” on the first floor of the station’s main building. (If you can’t find it, ask a railway official; there is at least one unofficial and misleading tourist office, and finding the official one is difficult if you’re on the wrong side of the station. I guarantee that it’s not closed and it hasn’t burned down.)
  • SEEING THE TAJ MAHAL AT SUNRISE: Once you’ve landed in Agra — whether by train, bus, plane, or car — arrange for the driver who takes you to your hotel (it’s best to arrange in advance for your hotel to pick you up to avoid scams) to pick you up before sunrise the next morning to take you to the Taj. Haggle. Demand to be taken to the Taj’s East Gate — otherwise, taxi drivers will take you to a roundabout far from the West Gate, which can be a long walk (or expensive camel/carriage ride) and crowded. The East Gate also has the advantage of being near Oberoi Amar Villas, possibly the best hotel in India, to which you’ll want your driver to deliver you for breakfast after your Taj visit. Spend a couple hours soaking in Emperor Shah Jahan’s monument to eternal love; by 9 AM, the complex will be swimming with tourists.
  • SEEING THE TAJ MAHAL AT SUNSET FROM MEHTAB BAGH PARK: In the evening, you may want to see the Taj one last time before leaving Agra. You can visit it again with the same entry ticket, or you can visit Mehtab Bagh (100 Rs/US $2), a park across the Yamuna River that has an exceptional view of the Taj. If you’re feeling extra adventurous, it is easy to sneak into the side of this park for free. You’ll see lots of Indian couples enjoying the sunset view of the Taj before darkness falls.

Comments

  • May 2, 2014, 11:39 AM

    Angelina

    You're writing is so interesting. I came across your blog through a google search on men's wearhouse lost and found :p but you're writing has me here for a while...thanks! :)

  • February 8, 2015, 2:54 AM

    brenda

    Ha! Sounds familiar! Although the men were 'clicking' their mouths at me instead of shouting... still don't know what that was about! All adds to the flavour of the country though ;) I was there booking a last-minute ticket as my train was 24 hours late & I'd already had to sleep overnight in the cold, on the platform by myself; but after pushing and glaring my way to the desk, I eventually got a ticket on a train which allowed me to stand by the door for the 5 hour journey... Got worse after that, but still, was an experience! :)