<p>A railway station is perhaps the most cherished asset for a village, as it bestows identity on its inhabitants while also holding out hope and scope for their socio-economic uplift. In my younger days, I used to take pride in my village’s relative standing by looking at things like how often its name appeared in the local print media, the number of telephone subscribers, blacktopped roads, streetlights, and trains stopping at its unassuming station. But when I recently travelled by train, after a long hiatus, to my hometown of Sojat Road in <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tag/rajasthan" target="_blank">Rajasthan</a>, I was stumped to see the metamorphosis of the rail network around it.</p>.<p>As it neared my destination, the train overtook a long container rake speeding on the newly-commissioned dedicated freight corridor line alongside. Never in my wildest dreams had I fancied that my village would be sited on a four-line, fully-electrified broad-gauge railroad!</p>.<p>Long ago, all trains stopped at Sojat Road mainly to refill their spent stocks of coal and water for the steam locomotives—the black beauties of that era! The station had a locomotive shed and a large marshalling yard. Its operations and waiting halls were roomy and donned British-style domed ceilings, which still exist, to keep them naturally ventilated.</p>.<p>The sprawling railway complex had residential quarters for hundreds of its staffers, a few bungalows for the visiting chieftains, and a hospital. An evening stroll in the windy area was a favourite pastime for many. Occasionally, friendly football matches were hosted between the ‘station’ and ‘local’ teams.</p>.<p>To announce the status of an incoming train, a station worker ruthlessly banged on a hanging iron rod: five hits meant the train had left the third immediately preceding station, three for the last one, and at one stroke, the train could be seen staging a snake-like turn to the platform line, triggering an adrenaline rush for many. Passengers would rush to the station’s only water hut, run by a local charity, to quench their thirst with water stored in earthen <span class="italic">matkas</span>. </p>.<p>Now, train-related information, including its coach position, is broadcast over a PA system. The olden goods yard, which was once bustling with transport activity, has vanished, and a road flyover has taken the place of the earlier manned rail crossing.</p>.<p>From just one meter-gauge line and a single platform to the present four electrified lines and two platforms, all connected by a foot overbridge, the station has journeyed through all the intervening phases.</p>.<p>A further icing on the cake on the horizon is the swanky <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tag/vande-bharat" target="_blank">Vande Bharat </a>Train running on the route. But with a top speed of over 160 kmph, it would simply whizz past Sojat Road, destroying any hope of it ever stopping there! </p>
<p>A railway station is perhaps the most cherished asset for a village, as it bestows identity on its inhabitants while also holding out hope and scope for their socio-economic uplift. In my younger days, I used to take pride in my village’s relative standing by looking at things like how often its name appeared in the local print media, the number of telephone subscribers, blacktopped roads, streetlights, and trains stopping at its unassuming station. But when I recently travelled by train, after a long hiatus, to my hometown of Sojat Road in <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tag/rajasthan" target="_blank">Rajasthan</a>, I was stumped to see the metamorphosis of the rail network around it.</p>.<p>As it neared my destination, the train overtook a long container rake speeding on the newly-commissioned dedicated freight corridor line alongside. Never in my wildest dreams had I fancied that my village would be sited on a four-line, fully-electrified broad-gauge railroad!</p>.<p>Long ago, all trains stopped at Sojat Road mainly to refill their spent stocks of coal and water for the steam locomotives—the black beauties of that era! The station had a locomotive shed and a large marshalling yard. Its operations and waiting halls were roomy and donned British-style domed ceilings, which still exist, to keep them naturally ventilated.</p>.<p>The sprawling railway complex had residential quarters for hundreds of its staffers, a few bungalows for the visiting chieftains, and a hospital. An evening stroll in the windy area was a favourite pastime for many. Occasionally, friendly football matches were hosted between the ‘station’ and ‘local’ teams.</p>.<p>To announce the status of an incoming train, a station worker ruthlessly banged on a hanging iron rod: five hits meant the train had left the third immediately preceding station, three for the last one, and at one stroke, the train could be seen staging a snake-like turn to the platform line, triggering an adrenaline rush for many. Passengers would rush to the station’s only water hut, run by a local charity, to quench their thirst with water stored in earthen <span class="italic">matkas</span>. </p>.<p>Now, train-related information, including its coach position, is broadcast over a PA system. The olden goods yard, which was once bustling with transport activity, has vanished, and a road flyover has taken the place of the earlier manned rail crossing.</p>.<p>From just one meter-gauge line and a single platform to the present four electrified lines and two platforms, all connected by a foot overbridge, the station has journeyed through all the intervening phases.</p>.<p>A further icing on the cake on the horizon is the swanky <a href="https://www.deccanherald.com/tag/vande-bharat" target="_blank">Vande Bharat </a>Train running on the route. But with a top speed of over 160 kmph, it would simply whizz past Sojat Road, destroying any hope of it ever stopping there! </p>