Getting Trained

Twyla and Greg have been teaching us well. In our first week in Mumbai, Dean and I have been on the commuter trains about every second day since arriving, in crowded times and less so, day and evening. It is an amazing experience, and so far for me, all quite thrilling. It’s a 10-15 minute walk from T&G’s apartment to the Bandra Train Station. The walk is not merely a stroll: in addition to the usual cars and small trucks all madly honking, one has to look out for zig-zagging motor rickshaws, bicycles, hand-pushed carts piled with all manner of goods, dogs, cats, goats, and of course people walking, preparing food, and selling goods in shops and along the roadside. Curbed sidewalks are often intermittent and rough, and irregularly occupied by huge trees, poles and posts, kiosks, sleeping dogs (let them lie), storm drains, trash, and puddles. About halfway to the station, one climbs up approximately three stories of crowded stairs to a long overhead walkway which allows pedestrians easier and safer access to the station and affords a marvellous overlook to the bustling streets below. From the walkway, it is hard to imagine that you have just survived the journey along the streets. However, from above one can see that there is a degree of orderliness to the activities below, and that what seems chaotic to the individual at ground level has a certain pattern when viewed at the larger scale. Think of the movement of a red blood cell as it courses through your own circulation system; so much in common with all the others, yet each with changing purpose, routes and function throughout its lifetime.

At Bandra Train Station, it is possible to access trains on four tracks, two southbound, two northbound. Some of the trains are “Fast”, and do not stop at every station along the way (these stations are posted above the waiting platform). One of the two southbound lines ends at Victoria Station and the other at Churchgate, both in South Mumbai. Technically, Bandra, where T&G live, is “North Mumbai” but really the distance from Bandra to Victoria Stations is only about 10 km. The city itself is vast and extends for tens of kilometres north, south and east of the centre portion. Many other interconnecting train lines serve these areas. Trains arrive at the stations every few minutes and stop only briefly. Our LP guidebook says that an estimated 2.5 million people pass through Victoria Station each day. Here we go.


It is necessary to descend from the walkway to the Bandra Station level in order to purchase tickets. Fares are for First or Second Class travel, and for example, it costs 6 rupees to travel second class from Bandra Station to Churchgate, one-way. That is about 12 cents. First Class is about 40 rupees, a splurge. If travelling second class, you have to wait in line to purchase tickets, but if travelling first class, you can go to the head of the line and cut in to pay. There are no automated ticket machines or tokens: everyone needs to pay for each ticket at a manned wicket and wait for individually printed tickets and change. Once the ticket is purchased, it is not routinely shown again, although the train authorities can ask to see your ticket and ensure that you have paid. Then it’s back up the long stairs to cross above the tracks and select which track your train is likely to be on, then back down the stairs to the platform. So that’s four sets of 2-3 storey stairs so far, right?

Selecting the correct platform and direction for the trains is a bit of a trick as well. Again, Twyla has this all figured out. Southbound, V is for Victoria Station and S is for Churchgate Station, F is for fast train and S is for slow. Did I mention that many of the streets, public parks, stations and facilities in Mumbai have both an English and Indian name, so sometimes the letters don’t match the name, for us,. You choose the train direction according to the name of the final station on the line. Ignore for a moment that there is another V-starting station name at the end of one of the northbound lines, also labelled V. Painted signage is in both Sanskrit lettering and our Arabic lettering (the anglicized version of the Hindi or Marati names); electronic platform and train car signage is in English, e.g. “Bandra Station” or “Charni Road”

On the platform, where to stand? The roof support steel pillars are painted with stripes to indicate roughly where the First and Second class train cars will be located, and of those, which are designated for women only. The train cars themselves have a I or II marked beside each door. Women cluster near the spot where the Second class cars will arrive so it is fairly easy to spot; the non-designated cars are mostly populated by men, and by women traveling with men. Twyla and I have sometimes traveled in the women’s cars, which are lively and massively colourful. It has also been fine for us while using the undesignated cars, especially since we have been with Greg and Dean, and on those occasions there might only be 1-2 other women in the car. The only difference between First and Second class is the fare: the appearance and set-up of the seats and windows is otherwise the same. It is enough of a difference, though, to make the First class cars less crowded and easier to board.

Here comes the train. A surge of people move toward the slowing train and begin to try to board even before others have exited or the train has come to a halt. It is amazing and scary and exciting all at once. Men experienced at this literally dive onto the train, hands first, edging between those waiting to exit. There is a 18” step up to the floor of the train from the platform, so when boarding, you have to aim for a vertical as well as horizontally moving target. The doorway is about 4 feet wide, and there is a wall of people standing there, so it’s a matter of avoiding those jumping off the still moving train and hopping in just as the train is stopping. There is an initial crush while people scurry to place themselves inside: scrambling for any deserted seats, hanging on near the doorway for the best air and view, adjusting their sitting to fit four across each bench-seat, jumping up to offer Twyla or me a seat. It is helpful (but difficult) to know which side of the train you will exit, and to position yourself relatively near a door on that side. It reduces the stress of worrying whether you will be able to get yourself off at the correct station; remember, the exiting process starts well before the train comes to a halt. There is no visible means of predicting which side the platform will be on, but people who ride know and are very helpful with that. If you are several people back from the doorway and needing to exit, you can just call out the station name and somehow, as if by magic, a tiny little passage is created as people shift to let you through. It is stressful but exhilarating.

The trains have open doorways along the sides, similar to a subway train and unlike a long-distance train coach. There are no sliding panels or doors to close. It clearly is a coveted location to travel near the doors, or even leaning and hanging out. Often you see 4-5 men hanging out the doorway. I suppose that the view is good and the air rushes by your face. Twyla and I marvelled at the magnificence of a woman in a lovely wine-red sari standing in the doorway of the women’s car with the folds of the fabric insufflated by the rushing air and billowing around her. Inside, there are fans which are suspended from the ceiling and move the air very well. Still, it must be murderously hot on the trains in the spring and summer. Well, it’s murderously hot everywhere then.

Off the train, traipse along the platform, up the stairs, across the tracks, down the stairs and now you are at the street, and about to start the next phase of the adventure. That is how we are getting trained!