Ticket to Ride

I just read this disturbing news about commuters on the Mumbai local train being sprayed with a toxic powder. I was saddened. My memories of the Mumbai trains are from about twenty-five years ago, but I do not recall that you had to fear the other riders, especially when the train was crowded.

Riding those trains was certainly not for the faint-hearted and the newcomer to the city found it quite intimidating. The art of getting off a train before it stops (so that you do not risk being put back on the train by the onrush of commuters) and of moving away from the  exit before the train stops at a busy station (lest you be placed on the platform outside involuntarily) were only a couple of the many skills to be mastered. I remember a friend  who was getting to Churchgate in the evening (no crowds traveling in that direction). He failed to get off the train before it stopped and was engulfed by the oncoming evening rush anxious to get home to Borivali. There was no way to get out of the train. Worse, the train was an express which meant that my friend was now going back to a station even beyond where he started from!

There are many scenes from the train commute that have stuck with me through the years - a poor beggar being shooed away by most passengers, but receiving alms from a porter; the group of people regularly performing bhajans in the compartment complete with hand cymbals and offering prasad to those who broke their strides to stop by the window even as they rushed to wherever they were bound; people who played bridge inside the crowded compartment using a briefcase to put down the cards and hung around the platform even after getting to their destination in order to finish the hand (such dedication). Then there was the hushed rush with which money was passed to the riders at the doorway in exchange for the batata vada packages sold by vendors at Dadar station (the best, I was told, in all of Central Railway). In the few seconds for which each train stopped there, at least a dozen orders were fulfilled. Let us not forget that all these happened while the trains were jam packed.

Riding the local train to work in Mumbai is a unique experience. The train represents a microcosm of the city that is a microcosm of the nation. To me the visage of the train is almost alive with humanity bursting from every doorway, its only purpose, to get people to work or home or wherever they were going. Never mind that the train had long passed any reasonable retirement age; that the tracks were in need of serious upgrading. Uncomplainingly, it bears its burden at surprising speeds gliding along the rails that snake through the city. How much abuse can a machine take? I recently read that these old trains are being replaced with newer ones (about time, I guess). I hope the old ones get a respectable farewell.

One of my friends had sent me this song that I think captures the spirit of the Mumbai local train riders. Even though I must confess to hating my daily ride while I lived in Mumbai, I cannot deny the sense of nostalgia this song brought to me.

Photo Courtesy: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bombay4.jpg