The Mumbai local chronicles

Currey Road station was set up for horses, not humans, says Vimal Mishra. His book, Mumbai Local, chugs through the annals of railway history to figure how the yellow-maroon coaches turned into Mumbai's lifeline

While waiting for a train at Mulund Station, author Vimal Mishra turns his gaze down at the platform, deep in thought. Suddenly he looks up and asks, "Do you know there's an old industrial railway line running right under the platform we are standing on?" We sheepishly say no, and from here on begins a conversation that only gets more fascinating with every passing station.

In Mumbai Local, a coffee table book for which he was recently awarded the Maharashtra State Akademi Award (Hindi), Mishra traces 155 years of the city's local train's history -- from the first train that ran between Boribunder (CST) and Tanna (later called Thane) to the latest lavender-hued 12-car trains. The book is a culmination of the senior journalist's column, Station Nama, that ran every week in a city-based Hindi newspaper. Through his column, the 50 year-old covered every railway station that fell along the city's suburban system.

When the idea first struck him, the railway correspondent thought it wouldn't take much effort. Information from the railway officials would come in handy. "When I reached the railway office to look for material, they had nothing concrete. That's when I began looking through gazettes and documents to discover the story behind every railway station," Mishra recalls.u00a0

Railway officials helped him in his quest, and station masters, supervisors and retired workers gladly accompanied him on his trips across stations. "Sometimes, they would even arrange for me to meet residents from the area who had been living there for long. They were powerhouses of interesting information." The column ran for a year-and-a-half, and was a hit with both readers and railway officials. Eventually, senior railway officials approached Mishra to turn his writings into a book. In the final avatar, his columns form just one chapter. The work is considered a sort of official document by the surburban railways, and every major railway station across the country is expected to maintain a copy for reference.

Pick up a copy of the book from the Office of the Chief Public Relations Officer, third floor, Station Bhavan, Churchgate. Price: Rs 400

The undisclosed rules of the local
It's a well-known fact that regular commuters on the Virar train don't appreciate it when Andheri and Bandra residents board a Virar local. It's also an unwritten rule that they will be forced to travel all the way to Borivali if they try this 'stunt'.



But did you know that 'the fourth seat' you demand the other three passengers to create for you, was initially called a 'request seat'? The idea was: if a passenger requested to be squeezed in, the three seated would adjust. But if either one of them was not in the mood to squeeze the 'requester' in, he would very well have to stand through the journey.

The last train too has its two golden rules: 1) It'll always leave on time. 2) If the motorman spots a woman (or any other passenger) running to catch the train, he will stop it, without exception.

Currey Road was built for horses
Today, perhaps the only animals you encounter on a local train or railway station are stray dogs and cats. But there was a time when elephants would help shunt trains, bullocks would pull the bogeys on tracks, and trains would stop mid-way so that the motorman could watch a buffalo fight (commuters wouldn't mind the unscheduled halt either, since they got a ringside view). In fact, Currey Road station was built not for passengers, but for horses!



During the derby season, a special train would carry horses from the race course to the stud farms in Pune.

Crucial records lost to fancy decorations
On 15 November, 1905, the Prince and Princess of Wales were to arrive in Mumbai at about 5 am. To welcome the royal dignitaries, the Churchgate building (which houses the headquarters of the Western Railways) was lit up with splendid lights and decorations. Ironically, it was this electrical finery that led to the outbreak of a freak fire in which important documents stored in the record room were lost. The central block turned black from soot, and the boardroom was reduced to ashes. The repair work was finally undertaken a year later by architect Charles Stevenson, son of Frederich Williams Stevenson who -- interestingly -- was chief architect of the original building.


There's a train to ferry garbage
The railway authorities realised what a challenge it was to keep the tracks clean and ready, especially in the monsoon months. And so, a 'Muck Mail' was made to run along the tracks every night between 1 am and 4 am, after the last train departed and just before the first train took off. The 6-coach train still carries equipment and workers that clear out drains around the tracks. Every wagon can carry up to 10 tonnes of muck, and a Muck Mail cleans up to 450 tonnes of garbage every month. The train was cancelled in 2005, but the service was restarted after the 26/7 floods.


How a train can beat terror
In 1896, the city was under the siege of the bubonic plague. Railway employee Vishwanath Govind Mahajan did not report to work thanks to 'the plague scare'. He was fired because 'as a railway employee he had committed a grave offence'. The Western Railway was instrumental in preventing the plague from spreading. Even today, Mumbai gets its 'never say die' tag thanks to the local trains that run even after gruesome terror attacks, ferrying a sea of commuters. When the Bombay riots were at their peak in 1993, the trains were still on track, lending the city a sense of 'normalcy'. After the 2006 bomb blasts, the trains were back on track in less than 12 hours. This is possible because unlike Mr Mahajan, hundreds of gangmen, station masters, railway security guards and officials turn up on duty even in the face of danger.


Social evenings on wheels
While most of us have tolerated the bhajan mandalis (travellers who sing devotional songs all through their journey), there are other social clubs that the local train has thrown up. Dombivli resident Anita Agashe holds singing lessons in the first class compartment of the train that leaves CST every evening. It's been 18 years now. Locals also host laughter clubs and wedding receptions en route.

Foodies have come up with the concept of 'khau dabbas' (foodie compartments), where a group of businessmen end up arranging for a snack-for-all (samosas, dhoklas and chocolates are favourites), fellow commuters. Once, they even got a pani-puriwala a first class ticket so that he could serve them pani puris while they travelled back home. The only rule to seek membership to these clubs is a curious one: all discussions about politics and the 'share bajaar' (stock market) are taboo.


God, tussi great ho! Local trains inspire their own set of superstitions. When the train was first seen, many believed that it was, in fact, a demi god. How else would such a giant contraption be able to propel itself?

Pardesi, pardesi, jana nahin: The book talks about entertainers who make a living on locals -- singers, musicians, hawkers, and runaway kids for whom the train is a shelter and a source of livelihood.

Rocking party at Thane: This painting depicts a party hosted for the commuters of Asia's first ever train that ran between Boribunder (CST) and Tanna (Thane). The party was held in Tanna after the train reached its destination at around 4.30 pm on April 16, 1853.