All Aboard The Choo Choo Train!
A mother rediscovers the joy of Indian Railways through her 4-year-old’s obsession with engines, revealing how train travel can still be magical in the age of flights.
The Magic of a Little Engine
“Amma, can you wash my boiler too?” my 4-year-old asked me seriously one day during bath time.
Boiler?
“Yes,” he said, pointing solemnly to the back of his head.
“And don’t forget to clean my wheels.”
This wasn’t pretend play anymore. This was full-blown immersion. My son, Yohan, was now an engine.
Not just any engine—he was Thomas. Or James. Or Percy. Or Gordon.
Depending on the day.
Welcome to the world of Thomas & Friends, and its rival gang from Chuggington—Koko, Wilson, Brewster. To my son, they weren’t TV characters. They were an extension of who he was.
A Peek Into Yohan’s Train-Loving Universe
Yohan’s obsession with wheels began early. At age two, he’d ignore the slides and swings at the park just to spin the wheels of parked cycles. While other moms enjoyed their tea and chat, I stood sentry near the bike stands—my son’s sacred zone of spinning wonders.
My Childhood Flashbacks: The Romance of Rail
As I raised my little “engine”, my mind often wandered back to my own childhood. Back then, train journeys weren’t just about travel—they were the vacation.
Every summer, our family would take the train from Bombay to Thalaserry in Kerala. Three days and two nights of snacks, stories, climbing berths, staring out windows, and making new friends. We could eat vadapavs, ice creams, chips… and nobody said no. It was the one time all rules were suspended.
Somewhere along the way, adulthood crept in. The thrill faded. The flights got faster. The journeys got shorter. And sadly, the magic disappeared.
First Train Journey As A Mom
But life has its own funny ways. When Yohan was just 7.5 months old, we took our first overnight train with his grandmother. I was nervous—but he loved it.
That journey became the spark that reignited my love for trains. From that point on, it became a tradition—Goa, Bangalore, Trivandrum, Mumbai… always by train when possible.
Local Trains, Big Memories: Bombay Days
When we moved to Mumbai, train adventures went local. We were in Colaba. My parents were in Borivali. That meant 30–50 km trips on the iconic Churchgate–Borivali local.
That’s when Yohan’s fantasy world collided with reality.
The platform buzz, the smell of samosas, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of hopping on just before the doors shut—this was real train magic.
Sometimes, we’d ride a BEST bus just to get to the train station. To a 4-year-old, that’s the stuff of dreams. For me, it was a reminder of how beautiful, chaotic, and endearing India’s public transport can be—when seen through innocent eyes.
Our Routine: Juice, Dosas & Window Seats
We became seasoned pros. Board the bus. Grab train tickets. Claim the best seat. Sip juice. Eat dosas. Remove shoes. Lie down and stare out.
Sometimes, we’d pretend to run like Raj and Simran to board the train—even when it wasn’t moving. Because why not?
The Netravati & The Bunk Bed
Our latest adventure was aboard the Netravati Express from Thalaserry to Mumbai. Yohan’s joy? Uncontainable.
Afterwards, when my brother built bunk beds for his kids, Yohan promptly renamed them: Netravati coaches.
One Last Train Awaits
Now we live in the hills of Coonoor, Nilgiris. And there’s one train ride that still awaits us—the Nilgiri Mountain Railway.
I can already imagine his excitement.
And when that day comes, I know someone will be grinning ear to ear. And so will I.
Final Thoughts: Why Trains Still Matter
We live in a world of rush and convenience. But sometimes, slowing down brings the greatest joy.
Train travel, especially with children, isn’t just about reaching a destination. It’s about reclaiming a piece of your own past, and creating stories your child will cherish.
So the next time you’re booking a trip, maybe skip the flight.
Take the train. See your child’s eyes light up. Hear the wheels turn. Smell the station samosas.
And feel the magic of “Choo Choo” once more.
About the Author
Shyma Rajagopal is a full-time mom to a four-year-old and a part-time freelance producer. Currently cooling her heels (and letting trains rest for a bit) in the serene Nilgiris.
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