It’s our maiden trip to Tarapith Temple Town in the first week of this New Year for a night’s stay. Tickets for the return journey were on the waiting list when we arrived there by Kavi Guru Express late afternoon, and we forgot all about it till the last moment.
The next morning, while it was still dark, we rolled out of bed and managed to line up at the Maa Tara Temple before the clock struck six. Even at that cold early hour there were a few hundred people ahead of us. The line we stood in cost us Rs. 300 per head. There’s another line costing Rs. 500 per person which ran from a different direction, and then there’s a general line for free whose end could not be seen. All three queues met up at the steps leading to the sanctorum from where devotees were released in batches with those forking out Rs. 500 getting the first preference.
From where we stood, we could see the Jibita Kund, the holy pond, a part of the temple, where three ducks floated about skimming the surface at an unhurried pace creating little wavelets in their wake. The queue progressed very slowly. From the last but one landing, one could see goats being sacrificed just below the steps in an adjoining room, their imploring cries rending the air.
When we at last entered the rather cramped main temple, we were virtually pushed out before we could have a proper darshan of the
goddess! The visit concluded with an ethereal sight we chanced upon while exploring the birthplace of sage Bamakhepa at Atla village. The
mustard plants stood in patches, small and large, planted closely together, emitting a mild yet intoxicating scent. I walked down to the
edge of the field watching them bowing and rippling, their cheerfulness rubbing off on me.
It’s time for the return journey, but our tickets were unconfirmed. We headed towards Rampurhat station hoping to board a general
compartment in either the Shaheed or Ganadevta Express. But both the trains left before our eyes, very crowded. The station looked desolate in the dusk, an indication that there’d be no other train for the day. As we were about to make our way out of the station, there was an announcement that a Bardhaman-bound passenger train called Tinpahar Passenger would arrive soon. We had never heard of this train before. We did a Google search on ‘Tinpahar’ to obtain information about the train and the place it was coming from, and waited.
As soon as the train drew in, there descended hordes of commuters who muscled their way into the compartment. For a few minutes it was utter chaos. When we boarded, we found there were still plenty of seats empty. After a three-hour journey, we pulled into Bardhaman at 9 p.m.
The 9.58 p.m. Bardhaman Local we boarded was a surprise too. All compartments had sleeper berths just like in an ordinary Express train. It was quite cold, and Howrah station was still two hours away. We learnt later that the train was primarily meant for the newspaper vendors who collect their lots deep in the night before supplying them to different places very early in the morning. Close to midnight, we landed back at Serampore with a new impulse taking hold: to visit Tinpahar village in Jharkhand soon!