Generally standing

The concept of space and time is best understood by those who commute on Mumbai’s local trains. Every minute matters and so does every inch. Getting a window seat—or for that matter, an emptier compartment—is nothing less than a luxury. And this is the case with all the three lines of railway networks in our city. One more thing that’s common to Harbour, Central and Western is the way the so-called luggage compartment is utilised by daily passengers. During the morning rush hour, people avoid them because of hasty vendors and the dabbawallahs who wouldn’t let their luggage-less counterparts sneak in. At other times of the day, luggage compartment is a delight to be in—illegally speaking though—given the space it has. No wonder it’s treated as a general compartment during the rest of the day! After all, there no ‘barriers’ per se in these chotu compartments.

Reading between bylines

There are many things i’ve observed—if not learnt—in my short tenure as a film journalist. One of them is the fact that nobody gives a shit about byline. Until and unless you are someone like Aakar Patel or Nandini Ramnath with your smiling picture going with the slug. Legendary cartoonists like RK Laxman don’t need a byline yet they insisted on signing their work. Things are a bit discouraging for lesser mortals though. The way readers automatically skip the name of the person who has written an article is an interesting phenomenon. They read the headline, the strap and jump directly to the main body completely overlooking something in fine print practically dying for attention! Anyway, i’ve grown enough in my field to care less about my byline anymore but it’s a completely different story—no pun intended—when you come across a commuter reading your piece. What a narcissistic feeling that is! And it does make a dramatic scene too. He busy reading what you wrote yesterday neither acknowledging your byline nor you standing right in front of him. So you end up secretly taking a picture of him in action. Fair enough.

Crash and spread

When it comes to local trains in our city, almost every single operational hour is a rush hour. You never know when the public is going to rise in numbers at a given platform. As a result, the lines are drawn for who goes where. Ladies compartments for ladies. General compartments for anyone who cares to fight their way in and then out. First-class compartments for those who think they are better off when they aren’t. Handicap compartments for those who shouldn’t fight at all. Oh, and let’s not forget the luggage compartment. This dingy compartment for the ones with heavy baggage and baskets. And during the early morning rides, the vendors/hawkers/peddlers who  cram into this exclusive bogey are very particular about not losing anything in transit. They make sure not a single fruit or a bunch of spinach is damaged or misplaced.  However, when it so happens that they fail to balance the heavy load on their head and as a consequence, lose a commodity or two, they don’t even care to pick up their waste so as to dispose of it in a nearby garbage bin. It’s edible, so they won’t throw it away. And the result is that the station ends up looking like a sticky marketplace during such moments of undesired loss.

Rebels with the paws

How can you not envy those street dogs who lie on the rooftops under which lesser mortals like you and me fight for nonexistent space in trains? How can you not feel a bit better about yourself seeing them so damn lost in their lalaland while the sun warm their fur? How can you not realize that the only difference between them and us is they are cultured and yet wholeheartedly nudist? How can you not stop and stare at your good luck of finding the finest species—at their heartbreakingly cute vulnerable state—that ever happened to humans? How?

I don't know about my fellow commuters but i do. 

PS: At the same time, i'm glad to notice that like us, they too have realized that the only way to go in this dogforsaken city is vertical, not horizontal.

Men will be men

At any given point of time, more men are travelling in a Mumbai local train than women. Which might also explain why there are fewer compartments reserved for the fairer sex. Of course, the rest of the compartments are called general, not gentlemen's compartment but you get the drift. However, women—especially those who travel on a daily basis—prefer to stick with their kind when it comes to commuting. Which is also why i was surprised to come across an elderly woman standing amid men on a platform at Dadar station. According to her, men are more courteous to her than those belonging to her gender. “In ladies compartment, even young girls—forget middle-aged women—won't be kind enough to vacate their seats for an oldie—forget pregnant women—like me. In general compartment, things are far better as i'm often helped while boarding as well as alighting.” As discouragingly habitual or encouragingly nice as these contrasting gestures may sound, it's high time senior citizens got a reserved compartment!

Phoney business

If i ask you who's your best friend, there's a greater probability of you overlooking the one thing that's been very close to you like never before: your cellphone. After all, there's a reason why the closest we get to hearing a heart break is our smartphone slipping from our hand only to crash on the floor. Worse could be misplacing the phone entirely like we do sometimes. However, the worst possible case scenario would be getting mugged of your phone while commuting in a train. Imagine the irony of losing it to a robbery attempted in a crowded venue. But it's a harsh reality of our city. There's no dearth of news ringing in time and time again of the aam janta paying the price for being absorbed in their gadget. Like some unsuspecting commuters standing on the footboard of a halted train fidgeting with their phones only to be snatched of his all-important device by a thief who is hanging onto the footboard of a parallel train. Sometimes, pickpockets aim for your phone instead of your wallet. If that isn't scary enough, we recently came across an incident on a platform in Andheri. A lean guy entered a train, tried to tussle a commuter's phone out of his grab—unsuccessfully though—before jumping out of the train. All within few seconds. If anything, these discouraging events help us understand how behavioral patterns contribute to the rise of a particular crime too.

Overcrowded comedy

Two unwritten rules apply to Mumbai’s local trains. 1. There’s always room for one more passenger no matter how jam-packed a given compartment is. 2. Always expect a co-commuter to crack a good one. Both these rules were observed recently on the Central Line. As the train slowly picked up speed at Kurla, a gentleman with a bagpack somehow managed to catch the train. Not comfortable with the idea of hanging on the footboard, he pushed his way in—to fellow passengers’ utter discomfort. On top of that, he made a rather nasty remark while standing on someone’s toes. “Zoo jaise ho gaya hai train aaj kal,” said our hero as he stood on his toes. He wasn’t expecting any rebuttal when somebody not that far away from him reparteed, “Bas ek gadhe ki kami thi.” Needless to mention, the resulting laugh must have made the commuters forget—for a little while—the inhumane manner in which they travel daily.

Temporary friendship

Waiting for Mumbai local trains is one of those bad habits nobody complains about. Trains are seldom on schedule and the conjuring crowd only makes you feel lonelier. However, this isn’t the case when you can kill time with others. Two such lucky gentlemen found each other on the platform bench. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get in to the last train that passed by. Fortunately, that was a commonality good enough to break the proverbial sweat. After conversing for nine minutes about things they care about—but seldom expressed an opinion on—they were back to being perfect strangers once again.

Delayed and how

In the recent past, we've highlighted several times how Harbour Line needs to buckle up a bit given the constant train delays. Earlier, the local trains weren't running on time during the rush hour—which generally isn't the case with Western or Central Line—but now the 'privilege' has been extended much beyond. In other words, the rush hour doesn't end only! The number of passengers keep rising to dangerous levels even after the clock strikes nine. The above picture is from the past week at Kurla when the time was well above 11 in the night. The platform number is seven and  during this time, no other platform witness such crowd. Is it because the trains are running properly on Central Line or is it because the commuters are relatively lower in number? In anyway, isn't it high something got done for Harbour Line? It's an utter case of apathy from the railway authority who have been treating the CST-Panvel Line as a stepchild. If not, what else can explain this daily harassment?

Overheard

Giving up your seat in a public transport for someone who needs it more doesn't make you a great human being. It merely makes you human. Moreover, the reason why we keep forgetting this clear distinction is people seldom relieve their butt for others. What's more interesting is when a person is offered seat and the recipient doesn't even acknowledge the gesture. For instance, i came across an episode recently. On receiving a seat emptied by a young man, an elderly gentleman thanked his son—who wasn’t even travelling with him—instead of the guy who relinquished his position for him. The old man while making his comfortable said, "You did this for me because i’m sure my son too does this for oldies like me.” Subtle and touching at the same time but the nothing could match the priceless expression on the young Samaritan’s face. Anyway, he now has a story to share now. Like i do.

Let’s space it

Be it any railway line in the city—Harbour, Central or Western—there is always going to be an issue for space. Both inside as well as outside a local train. However, things are worse inside. Most of the time what happens is commuters who manage to get in first crowd up the aisle even if they have several stations to go before they alight. It’s more about attitude than the fear of missing their respective stations. What these passengers do is they choke up the narrow passages giving an impression that the train is overcrowded when in reality there is ample space to stand in the middle of the compartment. The only problem is it’s very difficult to get through as this about-to-get-down-but-aren't-going-to-down-from-train crowd only grows thicker with every passing station. In an ideal world, these people would realise that they are only creating troubles for those who not only want in but also may have a longer distance to go. Turns out we don’t live in an ideal world and some luxurious space is always going to stay vacant in the middle until and unless brave souls fight their way in.

Clap of shame

Television indeed affects the social behaviour of aam janta. I say so because of an ongoing TV campaign by the government, which implies that shaming those who litter by applauding them in public might work in the country's favour. After all, cleanliness hasn't really been India's—let alone, an overcrowded city like Mumbai's—forte. However, a recent episode inside a local train on the Central Railway caught our attention along with fellow commuters'. A gentleman, who was travelling with his family, crushed an empty water bottle before slipping it though the window of the running train. On noting this, three college students who were standing on the aisle started 'applauding' him by clapping together in sync. Not a word was exchanged between any of the involved parties. It was as if time stood still for a while, allowing the clapping noise take over. This left the passenger embarrassed while his wife and kids took time to gauge what was going on. The whole incident lasted less than a minute but it was something that made one individual aware of his error while educating others of the dangers of repeating what he did. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Seating disorder

Railway commuters in our city fight for seats as if they were ancestral thrones. Furthermore, most of them behave as if they've never seen a seat before; let alone sat on one. This whole conundrum about wanting to be seated—no matter what one’s age is—tells us something about our priorities. Who knows? We could have built a far better city if our inhabitants showed half of the passion in other stuff what they do in winning a place to rest their butt on. No surprise why there are heated arguments in crowded local trains for space to either stand or sit. Which also explains why a window seat is treasured so much despite knowing that the journey can’t possibly be long—or smell-free—enough to enjoy it thoroughly. But then, being hassled commuters, we tend to pretend that the journey shall go on forever just because we’ve bagged the windy position. Against such a melodramatic setting, it was a pleasant surprise to find a young man who wouldn’t take a seat despite having several chances. He preferred to stand in the aisle between the benches and continued to read a book he held in his right hand. On being asked by a fellow commuter to make the most of the available space, he zenfully replied, “Office jaake baithna hi toh hai.”

Push and shove

If you happen to be a railway commuter, you'd be knowing how precious space is inside a train compartment. Which also explains why the term dhakka—meaning push or shove depending on where you're standing—is as common as crowd. To be fair to the daily passengers who have accepted the harsh reality of congestion, nobody likes to have a quarrel and that too inside a jampacked train. But things happen and we often get entertained by two or more characters who wouldn't mind slinging expletives before taking up a more violent stand—no pun intended. However, many a times, these silly confrontations evoke either laughter or silent appreciation from people gathered around. For instance, a young fellow was apprehending a senior citizen for dhakka when the latter firmly asked, "Meri umar hai dhakka deneki?" This was before he added, "Dhakka lagne se aadmi aage hi badhta hai, peeche nahi."

Storm before the calm

Every evening, when the sun is about to set, platform no. 7 at Kurla station comes into its own. Without fail, the crowd grows thicker and the flow of trains grows thinner. What’s unmistakable though is that no other platform—during the aforementioned timeframe—comes remotely close to gathering people to such extent. None of those waiting for the delayed mode of transportation want to stand a minute longer than what the overhead indicator insists. But they are forced to. And this carnival carries on well into the night. It goes without saying that the lack of adequate trains on Harbour Line (HL) is steadily contributing to this peculiar mess. Speaking of which, only one heavy shower it took last week to remind HL of its place of significance in the pecking order. We wonder what really is going on in the planning room. With an annual growth of 9.22%, HL is probably India’s fastest growing suburban segment. But how exactly are the commuters benefiting from this growth? Fast trains are obviously out of question given the narrow bridge that connects Mumbai to Navi Mumbai. So when is the frequency of slow trains going to increase? Especially during rush hour when the people quite literally forget that they are human beings in order to get into the already jam-packed train compartments. A train line that brings two cities closer certainly merits an overhaul, if not in execution then at least in vision.

Trick or bleat

Going by the book, pet animals or birds aren’t welcome inside a local train. But then, abiding laws in our city often come in the way of leading our usual daily life. No wonder we’ve seen commuters carrying a cage filled
with exotic birds, leash-tied dogs, arm-held Persian cat in a not-so-empty train compartments. What’s worth pointing out is the way people react to non-human beings inside a locomotive. Seldom do you see someone objecting to a pet be it a general compartment or a luggage one. That aggressive behaviour is reserved for fellow toe-stomping humans only! On the other hand, commuters are evidently amused and smiling at the sight of a pet. Some even resort to clicking photographs—no matter how constraining the space is—to post it on Internet later. I too captured a reluctant commuter at Kurla station. Unlike others on the platform, this four-legged fella was flashing his rear to the railway tracks. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to be a stowaway.

Blasphemy

For a football fan—or should we, say football club fan to be precise—names matter. A Man United follower won’t ever confuse Giggs with Drogba. However, that allegiance may well be kept aside when it comes to merchandise for cricket-loving aam janta. To them, the stuff is just that—merchandise, nothing more. Which is actually quite a thought-provoker. After all, football club  adherents in Bombay can’t even locate the cities their favourite clubs are based in, on a map. Whatever be the argument, it’s amusing to come across a commuter on the Harbour Line wearing a jacket sporting Manchester United while carrying a Chelsea-painted satchel. Ignorance is bliss at times, isn’t it?

Mind your leaps

In a city that is always in a haste but ironically prone to unpunctuality, it's not uncommon to see citizens bending rules to suit their liking. Overlooking the red signal and cutting queues are just two of the several illegal activities Mumbaikars are noted for on a daily basis. The worst of all, however, is commuters' willingness to cross the railway track merely to save few minutes which we are sure aren't worth risking one's life. Despite several warnings and banners highlighting the danger behind jaywalking at railway stations, we don't have to strive too hard to see the public running across the platform, jump onto the tracks, cross them and then leap up on to the next platform. If the overhead bridges weren't available, this peculiar behaviour would have been understandable but that's not the case. According to our best guess, it's just a matter of daredevilry disguised under the blanket of need. After all, walking up in a queue across the FOB can't be that difficult given even the stray dogs in Mumbai fully acknowledge the safety significance of using overhead bridges.

Feline grace

How often do you come across a cat travelling in a crowded local train? We suppose, not very often. Well, neither do we. So, we were mighty surprised to see a Persian cat inside the train compartment on the Central Line. The bundle of furry joy was the star of the commute with everyone trying to take a look at her. And it managed to be so without making a sound! Her shy owner seemed embarrassed by the unwanted attention but he obliged just like his pet. People not only tried touching her out of affection but also clicked pictures of hers. Like a diva queen minus the diva antics, she proved to be the reason behind several smiles and shared laughter. Also, she was undoubtedly the most behaved commuter around. 

Tied and tested

Irony comes handy in our local trains. Recently, a college girl had to get into a general compartment—which she usually doesn't do for obvious reasons—as she was running late for her lectures in Matunga. The train was way too crowded and she found it difficult to find herself a comfortable place to even stand. In the mix of it, she felt something groping her back. Quick to react, she caught hold of the hand and squeezed it so hard that the guy was startled and made his way out at the very next station. She had three more stations to go. And while she was waiting, she couldn't help wonder how can a hand decorated with multiple rakhis could attempt such a disgraceful act.