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There is something about train journeys in India that never leaves you. It’s not just the travel. It’s the rhythm of the tracks, the quiet moments by the window, the chai shared with strangers who somehow feel familiar. I’ve taken many trains over the years, but a few journeys stayed with me in a deeper way. Not because they were luxurious or fast-but because they made me feel something.
These are five train journeys I still think about.
Himalayan Queen (Kalka to Shimla)
I remember boarding the train at Kalka early in the morning. The air felt lighter, cooler than the plains I had left behind. The coach was small, almost toy-like, and as it started moving, it felt less like a journey and more like stepping into a memory.
As we climbed higher, the world outside changed slowly. Tall buildings disappeared. Pine trees took their place. The train moved gently, almost as if it didn’t want to disturb the hills. Every turn revealed something new-deep valleys, small houses tucked into slopes, and clouds that seemed close enough to touch.
Inside the coach, people were quiet. Not silent, just… calm. Everyone seemed to be watching, absorbing. At one point, the train entered a tunnel, and for a few seconds, everything went dark. Then suddenly, light again-and a completely new view.
I didn’t realise when I stopped checking my phone. Time felt different there. Slower, softer.
Darjeeling Himalayan Railway (Jalpaiguri to Darjeeling)
This journey felt alive in a very different way.
The train was small, almost fragile-looking, but it carried a strong presence. As it moved through towns and narrow roads, people waved casually, as if this train was part of their daily life.
There were moments when the train ran so close to shops and houses that I could hear conversations from outside. The smell of tea, smoke, and damp earth mixed in the air. Somewhere along the way, the mist rolled in, soft and quiet, wrapping everything in a grey blanket.
The tea gardens were endless. Neatly arranged, stretching across hills like green patterns. I remember leaning out slightly, just to feel the cold air on my face. It was sharp, but refreshing.
What stayed with me most was the pace. The train didn’t rush. It allowed you to notice things-children playing, women working in the fields, a dog lazily watching the world go by.
It felt real. Unfiltered.
Konkan Railway (Ratnagiri to Mangalore)
This journey was different. Fuller. Louder. Almost overwhelming in the best way.
I took this train during the monsoon, and I still think that was the right decision. The rain had turned everything green-deep, shining green. Waterfalls appeared suddenly, like they had always been there, just waiting for the rain to return.
The train moved through tunnels one after another. Each time we came out, the view changed. Sometimes it was dense forest. Sometimes wide rivers. Sometimes just open land soaked in rain.
There was a moment when I saw the sea from a distance. Blue sky, restless water, and the train quietly cutting through the landscape. It felt powerful.
Inside, there were life-families talking, vendors passing by, the sound of steel tiffins opening. Someone offered me snacks, and we ended up talking for an hour without knowing each other’s names.
That’s what I remember most. The feeling that you’re never really alone on an Indian train.
Kashmir Railways (Banihal to Baramulla)
This journey felt quiet. Not empty, but deeply peaceful.
The train moved through the valley like it belonged there. Outside, everything looked still-mountains in the distance, fields spread wide, and occasionally, small villages that seemed untouched by time.
I remember seeing snow in patches, even though it wasn’t peak winter. The light was soft, almost diffused. It gave everything a gentle glow.
There were fewer people in the coach. Conversations were low. Some passengers just sat quietly, looking out, lost in their own thoughts.
At one point, I noticed an old man sitting across from me. He wasn’t doing anything-just watching the passing landscape. There was a kind of calm on his face that I can’t explain.
That journey made me slow down, not just physically, but mentally. It felt like a pause.
Chilka Route (Bhubaneswar to Brahmapur)
This was one of the most unexpected experiences for me.
I didn’t know much about this route before taking it. But somewhere along the journey, the landscape opened up-and suddenly, there was water. Vast, calm, stretching far beyond what I could see.
The train ran alongside Chilika Lake, and for a long time, the view didn’t change much. Just water, sky, and occasional birds flying low.
It felt peaceful in a different way. Not like the mountains, not like the forests. This was open, almost endless.
I remember spotting birds-so many of them. Some standing still in the water, others flying in groups. The reflection of the sky on the lake made it hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
There was a quiet breeze coming through the window. No noise, no rush. Just a sense of stillness.
I didn’t take many photos. It felt like something better experienced than captured.
Check out the travel guide of Tirthan Valley.
A Journey That Stays With You
When I think about these journeys now, I don’t remember the ticket prices or the schedules. I remember how they felt.
Each train showed me a different side of India. Not the one you see in guides or social media-but the one that unfolds slowly, through a window, between stations.
Train journeys here are not just about reaching somewhere. They give you time-to observe, to think, to simply exist without hurry.
And maybe that’s why they stay with you.
Long after the journey ends.
