In the Warzone

From the Archives

Five years back I decided to try my hand for a shore job. So, after signing off from the ship I joined the teaching faculty and started teaching at Naval Maritime Academy. I used to travel by local from Nerul to VT. A distance of 49 kms took one hour to cover. This was the first time in my life I was commuting daily by trains. I had graduated, so to say, to become a true Mumbaikar depending on the local trains for my bread and butter.

Those days the Harbour line was not at all crowded as compared to the Western and Central line. I had with me a first class season pass. The crowd in the first class were the office going type and, in the non-peak hours there was enough space to put up our feet on the opposite seats and stretch out comfortably.

My day was a fixed routine and my life revolved around the 06:58 local. From home to the station was a 7-minute walk. Some days if I was running late I hopped in an auto for a quick ride. So….. 06:50 leave home, 06:58 catch the local, 08:01 reach VT. The 1 hour in the train was meant to prepare my lectures and plan out the rest of the day.

On reaching VT I used to cross the subway at a brisk pace and catch the Academy bus leaving at 08:10. The bus zoomed through Cuffe Parade and Colaba where we could see some of the eminent residents returning from the morning work-outs. It was still quite early in the day for the office crowd to throng the roads. At 08:25 I would reach the Academy, grab a cup of tea, before rushing for the first lecture starting at 08:30. The return trip was flexible and depending on the classes could be as early as 01:30 PM. I had lot of time for myself unlike a typical 9 to 5 job.

I came to recognize most of the regulars on the train in that one year. We had a strange camaraderie. I do not remember ever speaking to anyone of them. We used to acknowledge each other by the merest of the smiles and mostly it was by the softening of our facial features. Generally Mumbai local train commuters wear a grim face.

Today I hardly travel by the trains. But I do not miss them. The crowds have become unbearable and the conditions have deteriorated. Back then there was no need to fight for a seat. The rains are more severe today and tracks are flooded very easily. Life in the local trains has become bad. For a second class commuter it is even worse.

When the Western line suffered the serial blasts I felt an immense sadness. As such the commuter has a lot of hardships. He is totally dependent on the smooth running of the train. A slight delay or problem on the way throws his life out of gear. The trains are his lifeline.

There is really no other way to travel for those who stay far from their workplace.
Buses take too long, and the bad roads make long-distance commuting impossible. Similarly daily commuting by car is not practical, even if one could afford the high cost. Day in and day out you have to live through this mindless existence. Nothing can replace the local train – crowds, ramshackle coaches and miserable views notwithstanding. In terms of time taken and cost of traveling.

I don’t think Mumbaikars were back on the trains so soon after the blast because they can ‘bounce back’. Despite the fear of life and limbs and the sadness for the fellow commuters who died or lay injured, they willed their hearts to step into the boxcar. For what other options did they have?

I don’t know why the terrorists chose to plant the bombs in the trains. I don’t think the bombs could keep the crowd away for more than 24 hours. Perhaps a more dangerous deterrent would had been poisonous chemicals. After all that sound and fury of a bomb-blast only 200 people died.

Once I tried to count the number of people in a jam-packed coach. Four to a bench x 64 benches = 256. Plus 100 standees. 350 to a coach x 9 coaches x 150 trains x 3 routes! One and a half million! Do our locals carry so many every day? Three crore rupees generated everyday by sale of tickets! Is anybody auditing these figures? Where is the money going? Why is this not getting translated to a better deal for the commuters? Why do we have to travel in such inhuman conditions?

Look around yourself in a second class. Only common people travel in these coaches regularly. They don’t have the time and the inclination to protest. Most of them wear a glazed expression on their faces. But they all have a dream. An eternal hope in their hearts that one day a new line will be miraculously laid and super-fast trains will glide smoothly over it, and take them to their destinations in luxury. Like the ones on which Japanese, Londoners and even the Shanghai citizens travel.

A Mumbaikar has a burden. He has to subsidies all those ticket-less travelers in Bihar and UP. He has probably financed part of the swanky underground metro in Delhi. Because he is the murga.

A typical commuter in Mumbai can be profiled easily. Generally less than 50 years else he will not be able to withstand the rigours of daily traveling. Slim and nimble on his feet so he can take part in the daily stampede getting on and off the train. Fastidiously clean to keep all sorts of diseases away. He has the ability to switch off his brain at will. It helps to protect oneself from the plethora of sights and smells which assaults his senses everyday. He is deeply religious because he needs God on his side to take him safely through the day. He carries a black bag slung across his shoulder which leaves both his hands free. In the monsoon he carries a small umbrella which fits snugly in his bag.

There is no pleasure traveling in locals. As a matter of fact train commuters look at those who have managed to get out of the daily commuting with lot of envy. He is trapped in a lifestyle where he has to risk his life and limb everyday. Rains, floods, derailment, deadly stones aimed at him from the slums, bombs …anything can trip him in his daily journey. He lives in the war-zone and there is no easy escape from this.

It was disgusting to see the VIPs who visited the hospitals to pay their lip-service. When they said ‘we salute you and your Mumbaikar spirit’ I felt like giving them a sound whack on their backside. Have these guys ever traveled in the local trains? Who are these jokers surrounded by a horde of security guards who come to see the plight of a traveler in the hospital?

Who is paying the salary for their security guards and their swanky cars? It’s us! Despite paying taxes we have to go through the grind everyday and these guys live in luxury. To them we have only one message – you please fight the terrorists yourself. If you cannot, then privatize the railways and out-source the security to more able agencies.

We don’t need your noble words and the hypocritic faces. Just give us a comfortable train so we can carry on our jobs. Give us a less crowded and faster train with AC. We don’t need the windows because there is nothing worthwhile to see outside and it will save us the foul smells. We don’t need other people’s miseries to encroach into our minds. The slums, beggars, drug addicts, those living on the life’s edge please keep them away from us.

At least don’t treat us like cattle. We would prefer to have beautiful people, beautiful sceneries and luxurious upholstery around. If that is not possible at least give us a workmanlike train. After all we are paying for it!

Mumbaikars don’t like to talk very much about their local trains to outsiders because it is our private shame.

Capt Raj. S. Chakravorty