Mumbai local train--Adventures

Mumbai is the commercial capital of India and it has a population that by far exceeds the area available. But whatever the distance, the best form of transport from one place to another within the city is the train .However, one needs to be aware of what would all lie in store for him and must develop a bit of special skill and spirit of adventure to take it at office hours, be it the morning or evening. Here is an account of my experiences with the trains here. This is not to dissuade the tourist from travelling by a local train here. .The tourist is most welcome to always plan his/her trip in advance and choose a convenient time after making enquiries.
It is three years since I relocated to Mumbai. My first visit was in 1974, in the summer, in May. It was a holiday at my sister’s place and the first time Dadar Express chugged in was one of those fascinating moments in this grand metropolitan city. Being a simple girl born and bred in a small town Trichy, I just gazed open mouthed at the hitherto unfamiliar matchbox structures,, because all my knowledge of Mumbai was only from the film ‘Pya ka Gar’. I can very well understand how the town bred female [enacted by JayaBachan] would have been baffled by the one room and two room apartments here.
We were a gang of five people visiting the newly wed daughter and daughter-in-law [my sister]. It was an unforgettable holiday. We were all eagerly awaiting sight seeing trips and Mumbai trains are renowned not only for their connectivity and speed of transport. but also for the ‘brimful’ occupancy of passengers Seasoned travelers like my sister and brother-in-law. had sufficiently tutored us all as to how one should dive into the compartment and had advised us to be ever on the vigil. It was likely to be a time for adventure. However, apart from stepping on to trains from Trichy to Chennai or similar big places, my experiences with a local metro train were practically zero. So, the full import of this warning did not sink in significantly... As a teenager I was absolutely thrilled at braving against all odds and making a successful entry into the train that would be bulging at its seams. I would tuck in my saree, be all set and ready to dive into the pool of assorted humanity, and would be as thrilled as a sprinter who is on the move.
Three instances are unforgettable. One was a trip from Malad to Sion. My sister, her sister-in-law with her little 3yearold son and husband and ‘ yours truly’ got ready for our train adventure .All was well as far as we bought our tickets and waited for the train to arrive at the platform. It was a moderately crowded train--
The word ‘moderately’ must not be understood in the traditional meaning of the term but should be understood in context.
When one talks of a ‘moderately’ crowded Mumbai train it only means that one
passenger is able to stand with a distinct gap of five centimeters from his co-passenger. If, on the other hand there is to be comfortable space for a person to do a spin on his axis, then the train is ‘fairly empty’.

[It is not that people spin ‘on the axis’ as soon as they board the train but it is mandatory to let the untutored understand things in perspective.] It is the definition that really defines the situation here. So two of us women and a male were successful in nudging and elbowing our ways into the train but my sister, the leader of the group , in her ardent enthusiasm in directing us into the compartment was sidelined by the crowd and had no choice but to jump on to the next compartment. Three of us were new to Mumbai and each of us had a unique understanding of our destination. I thought we had to get down at King Circle, the other thought it was Sion, and the gentleman was standing in a far off edge. Train flew through the stations, and a swan could have hung its head in shame at the way I craned my neck to its maximum length to peer out of the window and look for the board at stations, lest we miss it. I was on the lookout for the nonexistent ‘King circle’ board, my lady friend was looking at her husband and we were all like ‘blind leading the blind’. At one stage when the train was slowing down at one of the stations, the husband was giving frantic signals to his wife who [the devout wife that she was] was blissfully ignoring his signals with a big shake of her head and a ‘No no it cannot be; it is not possible’ That poor gentleman was legitimately offended by his wife’s blatant disregard of his precise directions. Had it not been for her stubborn disregard of his instructions, we would not have another climbing down adventure. The train had stopped and I could see my sister, the ever efficient guide, vigorously waving her hand for all of us to get down. Once again we exhibited our best performance in elbowing fellow passengers and squeezing ourselves out successfully. That was one eventful day.
. The other one was when we had planned a dinner at a restaurant. The restaurant had already been fixed and it was Ramakrishna mandir at Vile Parle. My brother-in-law had given instructions to his wife to take us to Vile Parle by train; the plan was that he would meet us directly at the station on his return from his work spot. This was in aid of saving time .Otherwise he would have to come home and then lead us all to our dinner destination. We were all dressed up for the outing, got ready and jumped into the train. The train sped on its merry way without stopping at Vile Parle. We could see the board ‘Vile Parle’ whizzing past and only shout ‘Hey there is our station !station!’ though we knew that the system of stopping a bus driver[in rural India] by screaming ‘hold on’ would not work with the train. So we could do nothing but gaze at the speeding station in helpless horror and wait for the next stop. We got down, all anxious and guilty for making poor brother-in-law wait at the previous station and climbing on to the steps got another train back to Vile Parle. The mistake committed was that in our anxiety to dive successfully into the train we had boarded a fast train that had no scheduled stop at Vile Parle. As soon as we reached Vile Parle we saw my brother-in-law waiting for us at the platform where we got down and were immensely surprised. Seasoned traveler that he was, he had wisely anticipated our unwise miscalculation of missing the slow train and taking the fast train. There was so much of excitement on these two days and the first thing that came to mind when I stepped on to a Mumbai train after 30 years was this.
Mumbai trains would never be short of providing entertainment and adventure even after the next.30 years. Years may have flown but everyday is a new day as far as my train adventures go. Recently, when I had to travel from Church gate to Santa Cruz alone, the first time I made the mistake of making myself comfortable in a seat at Churchgate.It is the terminus and boarding the train or finding a place to sit are no great feat. I was blissfully unaware of the potential of the crowd getting in at a fairly lean hour. and was enjoying the scene out of the window. I must have got lost in the sights of skyscrapers and buildings .It was just one station away from my destination Santa Cruz.

The compartment was bulging; I could not even move and there was little chance to make my way to the gate. I was making frantic efforts to push past the crowd to the gate; the train stopped at Santa Cruz and there was a fresh crowd of people pushing the people near the doorway gaining access to the nonexistent space within the compartment I was totally jammed and had to wait some more time for the crowd to adjust itself and make some space in mercy of a few of us who had missed the stop at Santacruz. I finally managed to get down at Vile Parle [thankfully the tickets are issued by default to Vile Parle], make enquiries and come back home by another local bus.
This adventure taught me to look at the long term benefit of ability to alight at the right station rather than the short term comfort of sitting down. So, now if I have to travel from Church gate to Santa Cruz, I stand by the exit door as soon as I get in, even if it is totally empty. One never knows where the mass of passengers are waiting to dive into the compartment and force you to go to the next station instead of one’s own place.