Local Train
Created | Updated Sep 24, 2005
Local Train is called Mumbai's life line. Sometimes they are called suburban trains. They bring tens of thousands of people from the outlying neighbourhoods for which Mumbai is famous, to the city centre and back again. They halt at every station, picking up and dropping off passengers.
One can estimate how colourful must be the atmosphere in the local train by the fact that everyday nearly six million commuters travel through this local train. Whenever I travel by train I witness that it provides a platform to different; status, culture, religion, ugly, beautiful, long, short, happy, sad, rich and poor human beings.
Yesterday, when I travelled by train, as usual, my eyes started strolling in the ladies compartment to catch the glimpses of vivid sight and my ears were listening to various chats. It was a morning time, the train was jam pack. Home management and earnings are the dual responsibilities, which the ladies carry on their physically weak shoulders, but mentally strong enough.
Few ladies were busy setting their wet hair as they couldn't manage to do it at home due to their home engagements. Teenagers were raving about their affairs and about the handsome new guy in their college. Among them one was very much cautious about her beautiful looks. Each one of them was trying to look smarter than the other. School going kids along with their heavy bags were trying to make a space among the elders to reach their destination.
Sweet melodious songs of Hindi movies, sung by long route commuters by playing the famous 'Antakshari' game, was suddenly interrupted by a hawker calling out her wares, which were famous South Indian eatables. An old woman sitting next to me was discussing with the regular fellow traveller about the behaviour of her daughter-in-law. Her daughter-in-law thinks that entering into a new relationship by tying a sacred knot means discarding all other old relations. Listening to her sad story I was wondering why girls after becoming wives forget that twenty five years mother - son relationship have more deep value than hers. Parents have more rights on their son than the wife.
Tight scheduled girls somehow manage to steal time for their personal grooming while travelling through this local train, can be witnessed by the art displayed by one of the girl, who was applying Mehndi (Indian tatto) on her friends palm, because the mehndi girl has to attend some family function in the evening. Next to the artistic girl a glowing face, newly married woman was sharing about her new experiences with her best friend. Few seats away an old lady was weaving sweater for some of her tiny tot.
An unusual scene drew my attention towards the entrance of the train. During peak hours none of the passengers are courteous to pave way to the boarding commuters, but presently everyone was trying to make way for the boarding ladies. Surprisingly, I looked at those entering faces, and the faces were of shabby tribal women folk. The reason for being courteous was clear to me, that nobody wanted to touch those filthy tribal.
Carrying various people the local train was speeding towards its destination.
Suddenly some of the ladies started screaming to pull the chain to stop the train. In the beginning, nobody understood what was the matter to panic. Soon the news of premature labour pain to one of the pregnant traveller spread like jungle's fire. Some intelligent minds suggested not to pull the chain to halt it, as the running train will make them reach to the next station at the earliest for medical assistance. As the pregnant woman started bleeding, a middle aged lady, who was a midwife, came forward in this need of hour. Duppatas (scarves) of many women were used as curtain to encirle that lady. Someone passed on an antiseptic lotion and a pair of scissors to the midwife. Before reaching to the next station a new life had already arrived in this jam pack local train. It was a successful delivery without any medical assistance. The glowing and smiling face of the mother expressed her good position. She waved everyone with gratitude. The new born was a healthy girl child. Everyone cheered at this occasion. There was a winner's smile on the midwife's face.
Next station was my destination, I alighted with a happy heart.
One can estimate how colourful must be the atmosphere in the local train by the fact that everyday nearly six million commuters travel through this local train. Whenever I travel by train I witness that it provides a platform to different; status, culture, religion, ugly, beautiful, long, short, happy, sad, rich and poor human beings.
Yesterday, when I travelled by train, as usual, my eyes started strolling in the ladies compartment to catch the glimpses of vivid sight and my ears were listening to various chats. It was a morning time, the train was jam pack. Home management and earnings are the dual responsibilities, which the ladies carry on their physically weak shoulders, but mentally strong enough.
Few ladies were busy setting their wet hair as they couldn't manage to do it at home due to their home engagements. Teenagers were raving about their affairs and about the handsome new guy in their college. Among them one was very much cautious about her beautiful looks. Each one of them was trying to look smarter than the other. School going kids along with their heavy bags were trying to make a space among the elders to reach their destination.
Sweet melodious songs of Hindi movies, sung by long route commuters by playing the famous 'Antakshari' game, was suddenly interrupted by a hawker calling out her wares, which were famous South Indian eatables. An old woman sitting next to me was discussing with the regular fellow traveller about the behaviour of her daughter-in-law. Her daughter-in-law thinks that entering into a new relationship by tying a sacred knot means discarding all other old relations. Listening to her sad story I was wondering why girls after becoming wives forget that twenty five years mother - son relationship have more deep value than hers. Parents have more rights on their son than the wife.
Tight scheduled girls somehow manage to steal time for their personal grooming while travelling through this local train, can be witnessed by the art displayed by one of the girl, who was applying Mehndi (Indian tatto) on her friends palm, because the mehndi girl has to attend some family function in the evening. Next to the artistic girl a glowing face, newly married woman was sharing about her new experiences with her best friend. Few seats away an old lady was weaving sweater for some of her tiny tot.
An unusual scene drew my attention towards the entrance of the train. During peak hours none of the passengers are courteous to pave way to the boarding commuters, but presently everyone was trying to make way for the boarding ladies. Surprisingly, I looked at those entering faces, and the faces were of shabby tribal women folk. The reason for being courteous was clear to me, that nobody wanted to touch those filthy tribal.
Carrying various people the local train was speeding towards its destination.
Suddenly some of the ladies started screaming to pull the chain to stop the train. In the beginning, nobody understood what was the matter to panic. Soon the news of premature labour pain to one of the pregnant traveller spread like jungle's fire. Some intelligent minds suggested not to pull the chain to halt it, as the running train will make them reach to the next station at the earliest for medical assistance. As the pregnant woman started bleeding, a middle aged lady, who was a midwife, came forward in this need of hour. Duppatas (scarves) of many women were used as curtain to encirle that lady. Someone passed on an antiseptic lotion and a pair of scissors to the midwife. Before reaching to the next station a new life had already arrived in this jam pack local train. It was a successful delivery without any medical assistance. The glowing and smiling face of the mother expressed her good position. She waved everyone with gratitude. The new born was a healthy girl child. Everyone cheered at this occasion. There was a winner's smile on the midwife's face.
Next station was my destination, I alighted with a happy heart.
