Commuting by local trains has been a requisite for Mumbai. Indeed so because there is no other option for a faster commute than it. No wonder it is called the lifeline of city. However, when you are travelling by the central railways, you have a modest liberty to choose your type of traverse.

The options come in the form of slow and fast trains, both heading towards the same final destination, CST. My only six months of experience in the first class ladies compartment makes me realise that the difference between both of them is not only their names, but also in a way they represent two different lifestyles of Mumbai.

I was basically a ‘fast train’ person in the starting as coming from kurla privileged me the opportunity. The fast trains are always filled with people holding on to their dear life travelling on the threshold of the door with only one hand supporting. The amount of pushing, pulling you need to do to get a decent place for standing is enough to coach you for a military camp. If you are lucky enough to enter the compartment be ready to be true gymnast as people are standing in such odd (un)comfortable poses that you might have to mould yourself accordingly. The seating is something you can never have a sight of because of the massive wall of people standing in between. This is the only place where frisking is not an issue because of the ‘limited’ amount of space. A fast train commute isn’t complete without a squabble especially if it is the ladies compartment. Two or three frustrated souls demanding their fair share of space. How traumatising it is and how symbolic!

People generally travelling from fast trains are well-to-do people, loads of professionals. Nicely dressed, properly groomed and highly educated. You will find working adults more in this type of train and less of youngsters. The faces of people in this train generally look grim, worn out maybe because of the hectic life they live. The fast train shows me people are fast, on their toes always. They never stop for a breather. Some are a little tensed, others are eager to get their jobs done.

They don’t look out for the smaller things in life, they look at the bigger picture. Some of the ladies I have seen in the 1st class compartment look so rich that I wonder why they are travelling in the train when they might own nice cars. People aren’t so warm and affable, essentially because they see you as a competitor for a fare share of standing place. You just can’t wait for the journey to be over.

Soon enough dead beat of the fast train I started taking the slow local. To my surprise it was a relief more than I had expected. Slow trains had ample space for standing and mostly you’ll find a place to sit. I am fortunate enough to find window seats most of the times. Or else, even if you stand at the door, you can enjoy the wind freely. People in this train are from various walks of life and of various ages. You see college students a lot, leisure travellers, house wives and casually dressed professionals. Faces of people in this train are a little lively. They smile when they are asked to step aside. Most of them are cheerfully talking. They are helpful and make space for others. They look patient. You can find non-ticket travellers in the form of young school going children. All of them in groups enjoying the train ride, happily talking and enjoying the journey. It is an easy and smooth ride.

Slow trains render a ‘slow-and-steady-wins-the-race’ attitude. There is no rush to do things fast although there is an emphasis to do things right. They provide mental peace and clarity. In a slow train, you get time to think, read at least four pages of your book, notice the buildings and the landscapes outside, figure out the connection between places and observe different people. It shows you new perspectives of life. It makes you appreciate the smaller things in life.

So, you can see the discrepancy between them is tremendous and if only once you’ll travel in both of them that you’ll realise what I have pointed out is quite true. Both these trains represent different set ideals which are currently prevailing in the society and it is up to you to choose which one suits you. There is more to these trains as it seems. As for me, I prefer the slow local more but if there is an urgency to reach, fast local is the only option.

There is always more to something than what meets the eyes and case of local trains there is a whole lot more. They aren’t just a tag for trains, they are a symbolism of Mumbai and its lifestyles.

A War-like Lesson Learning Situation

Before joining XIC Mumbai local trains for me were almost like main trains only. I had my whole life in my area, chembur only. But with XIC I thought of travelling in local trains as an exciting adventure. Adventure it is, but not exactly an exciting one.

Two weeks ago, I took a fast train(first class) from CST to get down at Kurla. It is around 4-4.30 PM and the compartment is fairly crowded. I am standing in the middle of compartment facing the door on which the platform will come. A fair amount of crowd is standing ahead of me. Obviously, if they are standing ahead of me they are likely to get down on the station that comes that side which is kurla. So, I am standing there, listening to music, not caring of anything else. Soon enough Kurla comes and I get ready to get down assuming the crowd will soon start moving. The train slows down and comes to stop and then a wave of shock and horror hits me like a slap. Nobody is getting down. A fair amount of 30 ladies are standing in front of me and none of them are getting down. I panic and try to move forward saying ‘uttarna hai’ (have to get down). The ladies get shock and start shouting ‘uttarna hai?! Phele kyon nahi bola?!’. I keep moving but at a very slow pace. The ladies try to give me some space but it is as good as nothing. At that point of time, I felt so many emotions at the same time. DESPIRATION: to get to the platform. EMBARRESMENT: in front of all those angry women. FEAR: I’ll stay on the train and go off to the next station. DUMBNESS: that I could not understand the situation before. I felt like it’s impossible to get through that crowd in 30 seconds. After much of shouting, pushing and wading through the crowd I step on the platform just in time when the train started. And the relief I get, oh my God, it was like as if I have actually won a lifelong battle. I turn to see the compartment moving and ladies still shouting out things to me which I didn’t really hear properly. I said sorry to the whole compartment and the train pulled away.

Thank God, I got down from that train. If I would have been left on it, the ladies would have tortured me with their lectures on how I did the wrong thing and how I don’t know train travelling. I had already made a complete fool of myself. At that point of time, I felt so embarrassed that I had unknowingly been so stupid and with a lifelong lesson learnt, I also earned quite a few stares on the kurla platform.

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