Mumbai ko gussa kyun aata hai!

Illustration/Uday Mohite

The gruesome, gory incident that led to the murder of a young man in the first-class compartment on Tuesday has shaken us. Mumbai is a pressure cooker city that is prone to a million devastating behavioural explosions. The reason is the diseases it suffers from, such as disconnection, alienation, loneliness, and mental health issues. Trains are no longer closely knit communities like those of yesteryear. Back then, people played cards, sang bhajans, recited poetry, played antakshari and were involved in many engaging endeavours that kept them sane. Arguments, if any, were mostly quelled by self-appointed mediators; I refer to them as "mandoli ke badshah". Recently, ticket collectors have been also assaulted for no reason other than doing their job.

As a school kid, travelling by train in the late 1970s was fun, as fellow passengers would take good care of us. Later, in the medical school, when I would travel from Andheri to Mumbai Central, if any passenger would fall on the platform, fellow travellers would feed them, ensure their safety, and help them board a new train. In the late 90s, if someone would fall while alighting, others would get down without trampling the person, but not assist him or her. In recent times, a fallen passenger may be trampled upon and may get scant attention.

These days, one gets so infuriated that the consequences of the act disappear from the mind map. Representation Pic/iStock

Have we become cruel and insensitive? Have our brains changed in size, shape, colour, and fragrance? Not really! But the world has remarkably transformed into bullet train communities running at jet speed. The pace affects the neurons. The long working hours, unpredictable job scenarios, family problems, economic pressures and strenuous travel strain every cell in our body.

The mind-body orchestra goes haywire; one gets blinded and emotionally hijacked, and a Mumbaikar can explode and not respond or react. The alleged killer had a huge knife, and he plunged it repeatedly into the innocent man, walking away nonchalantly as if he had destroyed an enemy bunker at the border. We see it on the streets, where a small scratch on a vehicle can lead to a colossal fight. Here, one gets so infuriated that the consequences of the act disappear from the mind map.

The city is on the edge with a burgeoning population in a hurry to catch a local to get to office on time. Some are more prone to such violence, like those who are impulsive, sleep less, are under huge stress or have antisocial traits, and long-term anger issues. Anonymity also facilitates violence, with a feeling that ‘I can get away with the act'. ‘I want to teach him a lesson' is the predominant philosophy seen in marriage courts, among families, and also in countries.

The passengers were stunned, shocked, and converted into a bunch of paralysed bystanders. Half a century ago, a Reserve Bank of India employee was burnt to death one afternoon by a man next to Maratha Mandir theatre. Mumbaikars have been trained to look after themselves. Lessons of compassion are just in books and prayers. ‘Go straight and come back straight, don't get into any muddle' is the maxim taught by parents to kids right from their school days. Yet we also see micro-altruistic acts in trains.

A shout from all the passengers may have stopped the crime.

Slowing down may help! Let's fight disconnection by reconnection. Let's chat, smile, and do short deep breathing exercises while travelling.

The writer is a social psychiatrist