It is in pouring rain I step out of my apartment block with a huge floral umbrella for company and start my slow walk towards the train station. The 6 lane road, that borders my house and the station, is full of crawling traffic with huge drains swallowing litres of water by the minute. I walk up to the station…and am just in time to board the local that is pulling in to the station.
There is this humungous crowd of people and luggage and somebody’s slippers, a shawl, broken bangles and other such sundry items that make their way to the platform. “Dikhta nahi hai kya? Kitna gardi hai.. baaju mein khada rehne ka” (Am I not visible? Why don’t you stand aside, it is so crowded) that’s the typical dialogue you would here from irate passengers who alight and board at the many stations that form the eternal lifeline of Mumbai City- The Mumbai Suburban Rail.
Next moment as I was wondering as to how I would board a crowded train like this that I am jostled around like a beach ball and lo behold I am inside the correct train fortunately. The rest of the co passengers are “extremely” cooperative and do all the pushing and shifting so that I end up getting a little of leg space near the other door. Here I get to finally breathe peacefully for a few seconds before the train pulls in to Dadar, Mumbai’s most crowded station. Dadar meaning ‘steps’, is a myriad jungle of concrete steps covering 16 platforms. I find this huge lot of people alighting and running towards the massive stairs that covers both ends of the platform and an equal number boarding the train. It’s amazing to notice how so much of activity takes place within 20 seconds of waiting at each station.
At this point I would like to mention another feature of the Mumbai local trains is the amount of work that women can actually pack in if they board at Churchgate and alight only at Virar (the start and end points on the Western Suburban line). From cutting vegetables for the evening dinner to knitting a cap for one’s child to shopping for a matching earring or buying cosmetics which are light on the pocket and heavy on the skin. There is hardly any thing that you can’t buy on the train. In fact if you are a smart shopper you can actually take away partial dinner for the family.
Getting back to my story, the train moved towards my destination. A group of students board the train and their chatter keeps all of us entertained. Next station another surprise- a group of children get in to beg. One of them seems to be polio affected and crawls all over the place collecting money from some really sympathetic women. The train halts between Marine Lines and Churchgate before it pulls in to the final station, and wonders never cease happening. The begging group all jump out of the train and start running towards the barred exits. The supposedly polio affected child ran the fastest! I finally alighted at Churchgate, while the rain continued to pour. A dozen of men in a trademark white kurta, pyjamas and topi alight with hundreds of colorful tin boxes all carefully coded, containing lunch for all those who work in Mumbai’s business district. The Dabbawals and their work depends on the local trains of Mumbai, nevertheless day after day they deliver food at the right place to the right person bang on time.
I walk out of the station and meet my friends who have all arrived before I could. The rain has stopped and we wonder as what to do as the movie was to start almost an hour later. The roads are washed clean thanks to the rain God an
d not BMC and we decide to spend our time sitting on the promenade and watching the huge waves hit the rocky shoreline. As I walk towards the sea in the damp breeze that is blowing, I realize be it the countless number of men who travel to work or the women who accomplish so much while traveling or the Dabbawalas who are known for their accuracy or the group of children who beg for a living, for all of them, the trains of Mumbai are an integral part of life. As we sit on the promenade to look at the vast expanse of grey overcast sky and choppy water I decide to write about this experience. Writing this piece on my local train travel might not be the best write up I have written but for a true Mumbaite it doesn’t matter- our hearts are with our locomotive buddies which criss cross the island city.
