38 - THE QUEEN OF THE SUBURBS

Today, I had to travel by the local train upto Virar for some official work.  I only travel by the local train if I have to go very far, very fast, as compared to slow bus travel.  Since I seldom travel by the local train,  the experiences and scenes flash into my senses and get analyzed into statistics.

Although it was a Saturday, being a half day for most office goers and an off day for many academic institutes,  the train was very crowded.  But today, in the crowded ladies' compartment, a good samaritan actually offered me a seat for some time and stood all that while, and then even advised me as to the best place to stand, in order to avoid the onslaught of the incoming crowds that kept boarding the train upto Nallasopara.  It made me so happy to have this empathetic lady share her seating time for a while.

The bad memory was when the train approached Bandra,  the litter along the boundaries of the tracks was disgusting and demoralising and smelly.  An assault on the senses.   How can human beings live in that filth?  The entire length of the track, almost one kilometer before Bandra station, is lined with slums and beyond their ramshackle abodes are piles and piles of plastic, paper, thermocole, rags, and rotting vegetable waste.  Rats, flies and God knows what other pests are breeding in that area.   Please please, Bandra residents,  make the approach to your suburb clean and green.  I beseech to all its famous and rich residents, the Bollywood big shots etc, all visitors need to feel a sense of the 'Queen of the suburbs',  and you should make an effort to live upto its name.  Mr Shahrukh Khan, you have recorded a TV ad about 'swachch bharat',  but you only care for your bungalow and your home in Dubai,  you must GIVE towards improving the suburb that has brought you fame,  but it only has the shame of being a filthy public space mostly.

And then when Vasai was announced on the intercom system in the train,  the nose and eyes had another stinky onslaught from a sewage oulet or a large 'nalla'.   The only saving grace was that, the monsoons have turned the open areas into lush green growth.  So wherever we can view the greenery through the moving train, it is so beautiful and clean.

The local trains are the 'lifeline' of Mumbai but all along the tracks are 'deathlines' of filth, poverty, garbage and open air toilets.  Dear Salman Khan, you sent tankers of water to the drought-affected districts of Marathwada, yet you fail to notice the poverty and squallor of the poor in your very own neighbourhood?  I feel that 'Being Human' does not mean that Mumbai only gets the expensive stores with that logo, but that you do the humanitarian work for Mumbaikars too, please.  Do not forget that it is this city that has brought you your name, fame and where you have grown up.  You could give back by maybe, building good homes for the railway line squatters.   It will also be a more lasting contribution towards society, than the water donation that you had undertaken in 2013 to the drought hit Beed district.

October the second has been declared as THE cleanliness drive day for all Bharat,  and there will be lots of photo ops by politicians and richie riches like MsNeeta Ambani and her ilk.  But nothing really really effective at all.  Nothing that would deplete their pockets,  only silly whitewashed news stories, with brooms and buckets and expensive gloves, for maybe 5 to 10 minutes, just as long as it takes the cameras to flash.  If only each celebrity or large company, would adopt the wards, then it would lead to concrete progress towards cleanliness.  Mr.Amitabh Bachchan, you could easily adopt B ward, and it could be the 'Big B' B ward and compete with the Salman Khan A ward etc.  And the great Neeta Ambani C ward, and the Katrina Kaif D ward.  Not forgetting a E ward takeover by the great Kapil Sharma,  he will of course then be forgiven all the 'gapla' he did at his Versova flat.  And the likes of Anil Kapoor, who only want to rake in the moolah and the name and fame without any give back to society.  You have launched your daughter and now your son,  pray please do spend on beautifying the city that adores your every action and relative.  Come on people, Gandhiji is still revered all over the world, you could be revered at least in your 'karmbhoomi'.

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35 - MUMBAI LOCAL-LIFELINE?

It is commonly referred to as the 'lifeline' of Mumbai city-the local train.  But I beg to differ, in that, I feel that if you travel by the local, then you need a lifeline to survive.

My experiences of the local train network are varied.  I am a bus traveller, but sometimes it is more efficient to travel by the local because they have a fixed time slot and  one can reach the destination of far flung suburbs faster than by bus.  Besides direct buses are not available to far off suburbs and the bus services are not regular.  Trains are regular and reliable.  But.....

The misery of train travel begins at the ticketing window.  Dirty, smelly, scantily clad urchins or a minor beggar, or an old, half paralyzed beggar, are always on one side of the ticketing window, watching you buy your ticket, making you guilty of spending money on yourself.  Their extended palms and rhythmic banging of a begging bowl, puts one off, the anticipation of the journey is now perforated with sadness and remorse, at the state of the individual that one is expected to appease with cash.

Then the rush of boarding the correct train, and hurriedly plonking onto any vacant seat, before none are left vacant with the hoards that ply on the route.  But finding a seat is possible at the starting points of Churchgate, CST or Virar etc.  If you board at any of the intermediate stations, you will never get a seat.  You are lucky if you manage to board the train at all.  There are just too many commuters for the limited trains on the circuits. My colleagues who travel daily from Nallasopara to Mumbai Central, always board the train at four in the morning and that too, the local that is headed backwards, to the starting point of Virar.  Then they continue to sit in the train and head back towards Mumbai Central.  That is the only way they say that it is possible to be in the train at all, because it gets too crowded to be able to board it at all, after that, even at the next stop of Nallasopara.

 I had to travel from Grant  Road station to Santa Cruz, for some administrative work.  Having managed to board the train, I felt relieved, since it was quite crowded.  All the seats were occupied,  fourth seats also.  Women were standing between seats and along the corridor between the seats and holding the above-head handles and standing between the entrances. A torture to breathe in their smelly armpits that were all around my face.   I got a support on the back of the side seats. 

My attention was diverted to some women shouting from the window seats that overlooked the neighbouring stationary train.  Some of them were shouting encouraging words and some were shouting 'nahee'.  As I craned my neck to find out the centre of their attention, I realized that a young boy was being urged by his mother to urinate at the entrance of the neighbouring train and the boy was hesitant.  But soon he overcame his shame on being encouraged by the women from our train too.  'Becharaa,  bhachcha hai.  Susu karne do nah.  Toilet bhi toh nahee stationpar.'  And then our train took off.

Then the train approached Dadar and what a mad rush ensued.  Women pushing their way in and others pushing their way out.  Abuses and screams and  expletives galore.  All the new entrants started asking the seated women where they would alight, and forming mutual bonds for reserving the seats when the present occupants would vacate them.  I was pinched, pressed, pushed and poked, by the women who alighted and the ones who boarded, in huge waves of onslaught. 

What a torture these travellers undergo daily.  For a novice local train traveller like me,  it is traumatic.  And among all the din of the crowd in the overfull bogie,  the background noise of the metal wheels pulling the train towards each station, the background announcements of the approaching stations,  the audio advertisements of Kubal Masale, was repetitively being played, as though all was well and hunky dory within the bogie.

What a relief it was to alight and be free of the confines of the melee.