Greetings everyone. This is the story of one of the travel experiences of my life. Like all interesting travel experiences, this also took place inside a train. Falaknuma Express 12703, to be precise. However, I didn’t book it intentionally.
One of my cousins was getting married in Hyderabad. I wanted to visit this event for my brother, but the flight ticket prices were just ridiculous at the time. I instead started looking for travel options on IRCTC and it is here that I stumbled upon the Falaknuma Express.
My ticket got confirmed as I had been checking for their availability weeks before on RailMitra. And after that what followed was a week long excruciating wait before I could actually ride the train and meet my cousin.
Boarding The Falaknuma Express At Howrah
My travel started a day before I boarded the train. It started with the mandatory packing drill before the departure date. I carefully packed my Wedding dress into one separate bag so that it doesn’t crease mid journey. After all, your wedding outfit is a huge part of the wedding event. The remaining items got stuffed into whatever places I could find. Although, I kept my charger, medicines and my spectacles box in the side pocket. I don’t want to go through my whole bag mid journey to find these essentials. Trust me, it is coming from someone with experience of train travel.
My train was scheduled to depart at 8 AM the next day. Therefore I had to wake up early. I put in two alarms for this, because I know what kind of person I am! But before I went to sleep I checked the train schedule and platform locator at RailMitra to find at what time and platform my train halt. Checking this is important as you just can’t risk misinformation on a large station like Howrah Junction.
By the time my cab pulled up outside Howrah, the sheer scale of the place had already gotten to me a little, platforms running further than I could see in one glance, porters cutting through the crowd with trunks balanced on their heads. I made it to my platform and could see the Falaknuma Express on the tracks.
My own coach took longer to find than it should have, the number on the side worn down to almost nothing, and I asked the same coolie twice before he pointed me right. Stepping in, tea from a vendor near the door reached me first, mixed with that faint rusty smell the coach probably never loses.
Settling Into My Seat
Three rows in, that was my berth, next to a window with a crack running along one corner but enough light still getting through. Early morning departure or not, the coach filled up quicker than I’d bet on. I’d checked train seat availability on RailMitra almost three weeks before booking, and watching people squeeze in with their luggage that morning, waiting until the last week clearly would have left me standing.
A younger couple took the berth across from me. They were headed to Bhubaneswar for a short visit home. Within a few minutes of conversation, it was obvious they knew this route well enough to travel light. The wife had a flask of her own tea out before the train had even started moving. She poured it into two small steel cups like it was routine. I filed that away for whenever I take a trip like this again. My own bag went under the berth, and I settled into the seat by the window without much else on my mind. There wasn’t anything to figure out yet. Just the quiet business of being on a train for the next day and a half.
The Halt At Kharagpur
Kharagpur showed up sooner than expected, not even a full hour past Howrah, and the halt was over almost before it started, short enough that most passengers just leaned toward the open door instead of bothering to step down. I got off anyway, mostly because sitting still for that long makes you restless for no real reason, and stood watching vendors weave between compartments with tea and some fried snack that looked better than it probably tasted.
The whole platform felt quicker here, tighter than Howrah, everyone seeming to know exactly how many minutes they had left before the whistle went. I got back on just in time, and the coach fell back into its earlier rhythm almost immediately, the stop already fading into something that had barely happened.
Through Cuttack And Bhubaneswar
By early afternoon, Odisha had properly announced itself. The language drifting through the coach shifted from Bengali to Odia as new passengers boarded at Cuttack, old bridges catching the light briefly outside the window before the train picked up speed again. Bhubaneswar came not long after, busier than Cuttack, more people getting on than off.
I opened the live train running status on RailMitra somewhere in this stretch, not because I was worried but because checking has become one of those small habits that survive even when there’s no real reason for them. Running close to schedule, as it turned out, and the younger couple across from me seemed mildly pleased about it, the way people get when punctuality on this particular route feels like a small win rather than something to expect.
Meals On Wheels Through The Journey
Food on a journey this long can go either way, and I’d kept my expectations fairly low going in. The pantry staff came through at reasonably regular intervals with breakfast, lunch and dinner, and while none of it would win any awards, the timing stayed consistent enough that hunger never really became an issue.
A couple of passengers a few seats down seemed to be eating something different from what the pantry cart was serving, food that had clearly been ordered ahead and arrived fresh at a particular stop. That’s essentially how RailMitra’s meals on wheels service works, letting you book a meal in advance so it reaches your seat at a station along the route rather than leaving your lunch entirely up to whatever the pantry happens to be carrying that hour.
I stuck mostly to simple vegetarian thalis through the trip, rice and sambar, a small cup of curd that felt oddly comforting given how far there still was to travel. The tea remained the one thing I could count on without fail, hot and strong every single time a vendor walked past with the kettle balanced against his arm.
The Evening Coast Near Visakhapatnam
The gold light showed up before Visakhapatnam did, spreading out across a stretch that would have looked completely ordinary in flatter afternoon light. On one side the hills ran close to the track, and on the other the coast kept breaking through in patches, fishing villages coming and going with their nets left out to dry and a couple of boats parked on the sand doing nothing at all..
Some of these curves slow the train down enough that I finally got why this stretch comes up occasionally whenever people talk about train journeys along this coast. A vendor came through selling boiled peanuts right as the gold started fading into proper evening, and I bought a packet mostly for the excuse to keep sitting there, watching the water dull from blue to something closer to grey as dusk closed in.
Visakhapatnam station showed up lit and loud with its evening crowd, and somewhere in that gold hour before it, this trip had quietly stopped feeling like just a way to reach a wedding on time.
Waking Up Near Vijayawada
The berth wasn’t mine, but sleep found me anyway somewhere in the middle of the night. It was helped along by the train rocking at a pace that felt almost deliberate. Vijayawada was near by the time my eyes opened. A thin strip of light cut past the curtain. Around me, the coach had started its slow return to life. Sheets came off in folds, and someone’s neck cracked after too many hours held in one position.
Vijayawada Junction itself was already awake and loud. Vendors competed over each other about tea and idlis. A few passengers jogged with empty bottles, trying to beat the whistle to the water tap. I got down for a couple of minutes. It was less about needing anything and more about wanting solid ground for a change. The noise out there felt louder than it probably was after so many quiet hours. Climbing back in, the coach had shifted into something calmer. The smell of toothpaste took over from whatever dinner had left behind. The day settled in around everyone without any particular rush to get moving.
Through Guntur And Nalgonda
Guntur brought a shift I noticed more in the crowd than the scenery, a fair number of passengers getting off here for reasons that had nothing to do with Hyderabad, business or family visits of their own. Nalgonda followed a while later, drier land now, fewer trees, the landscape starting to look distinctly Telangana rather than coastal Andhra.
I used this quieter stretch of the morning to check my PNR status on RailMitra, more out of old habit than any real need since the ticket had been confirmed for weeks. Some reflexes just don’t go away simply because the outcome is already settled. The younger couple had already gotten off at Bhubaneswar the day before, and their seats had gone to a group of college students somewhere along the way, still talking, still on their phones, filling the coach with a low steady noise that had become normal by now.
Arriving In Secunderabad
Packing started well before the platform actually showed up outside the window, everyone a little too eager to be ready. Bags came down off the racks, and sheets got folded into whatever shape fit best. The loose, easy mood from earlier in the day gave way to that low restlessness. A coach gets it right before a long ride finally ends.
Secunderabad Junction, when it came, felt smaller than Howrah but no less busy. The platforms were full of people waiting to board the same train for its return leg. Porters were already moving alongside the coach before it had properly stopped. Getting down after more than a day on board felt odd in a decent way. Stiff legs and too much noise at once. But mostly just glad for ground that wasn’t moving under me anymore.
A Fairly Ordinary Way To End The Trip
The Falaknuma Express didn’t teach me anything grand about train travel. I’m not going to pretend otherwise just because that would read better. It got me to a wedding on time and kept me fed well enough along the way. It put me next to a few people I’d never have crossed paths with otherwise for a day and a half. Maybe that’s genuinely all a train ride needs to do.
If you’re planning this route, don’t expect a nonstop scenic showreel. A good portion of it is just fields, quiet stations, and long stretches where nothing in particular happens. Keep your booking details somewhere handy. Plan a meal ahead if the pantry timing worries you. Let the twenty six hours pass the way they’re going to anyway. Some journeys don’t need to mean something bigger than what they actually are.
