I was recently sent a video on WhatsApp featuring two young men on their first train journey after almost a year. They began by moving backpacks from back to front, preparing for the inhuman crushing of bodies that takes place whenever one tries to enter a train. They then enacted the familiar request for an adjustment of seating arrangements, so six people could fit into a space meant for three. There was finally some faux weeping with relief as the train rolled in, and they embraced each other with joy.

It was meant to be a spoof, of course, but served to highlight everything that is wrong about travelling by train in Bombay. It saddened me because the video brought back memories of my commute as a college student, from decades ago. I had a fixed local, as did everyone I knew at the time, and took the 7.36 from Malad station to get to Marine Lines in time for my first lecture. Missing that train meant getting into another one going to Borivli, then waiting until it returned and headed to Churchgate, adding an additional and unnecessary half hour to my already long commute. Thousands of people did the same thing daily, going back and forth simply because getting into a train from their station of choice was impossible.