Attention all Westerners! Do you want to get to really know your fellow Mumbaikers? Have you tried charming them with cocktails, wooing them with fancy meals at expensive restaurants, but you still feel like there is an unaccountable distance between you and the teeming hordes? Well, I have an answer--take the Andheri express to Churchgate during rush hour.
''Up close and personal'' takes on a new meaning on the Mumbai suburban railways. Tired of paying the exorbitant prices of hiring a car from the JW Marriott into town on weekends (Rs. 508/hour, meaning an 8-hour trip will set you back nearly $100), I decided to explore the train system. My coworkers, thinking I'm a lily-livered coward used to being pampered and cosseted, predicted that I wouldn't survive the trip. I mean, I use the New York subway system on a regular basis, so I figured Mumbai railways would be a breeze.
I arrived at the Andheri station at 10:30 a.m. on a Saturday, figuring I'd easily get to Churchgate by 11 or so, and have all day to wander through the Fort and Colaba, looking at shops and people-watching. When I disembarked from my autorick, I felt for the first time in my year in Mumbai truly baffled--I couldn't find any English signs anywhere, and a bewildering array of platforms and staircases met my view. The crowds of hundreds of milling passengers looked like something out of a Satyajit Ray film--eating samosas, drinking tea, running hither and thither--I was elated, but confused by the commotion.
Fortunately, I had talked to a concierge at the hotel and he had given me a few pointers--look for the red-striped cars if I wanted First Class, and if I wanted the express train, look for the letters ''C'' and ''F'' on the front of the train (Churchgate-Fast train).
I made my way through innumerable beggars to the ticket line and ponied up my Rs. 156 for a first-class return ticket, distributing the change to an old woman and baby waiting expectantly by the window. I then went upstairs and started studying the signs--I finally found one (track 2) that had the appropriate letters ''C'' and ''F'', so I went to the platform and looked for a section with the red and white stripes.
At 10:37 the first train came into the station. I figured, ''First Class,'' no one will be paying these kinds of prices, since a second-class ticket is only about Rs. 9, so it will be a cakewalk to get on the train. Boy, was I ever wrong: I didn't take into account that many of the passengers don't buy tickets at all, since police rarely make raids and passengers feel they can take the risk of a free ride.
All of the cars were packed so full that I felt the laws of physics had been suspended just for Mumbai transit. I was going to try to get on the train, but even before it stopped, dozens of disembarking passengers were jumping off the train onto the platform, only to be replaced by dozens who were leaping aboard. Since I was about to be swept onto the tracks, I retreated, admitting defeat, at least for the 10:37.
At 10:41, the next train arrived; a repeat performance. Then the 10:55: I was starting to think that I would have to admit defeat and just take a taxi into the city. ''But,'' I said to myself, ''I've already paid my 156 and I'll either get on the next train or die trying.'' I had 15 minutes before the next express was due to come in, so I studied the situation.
I figured the front cars would be more crowded than the rear (it wasn't really true, but we need useful fictions to give us hope), so I headed to the last possible area for first-class passengers. I decided to just wait on the edge of the platform and pray for the best. As the 11:12 pulled in, the same situation arose with the departing and embarking passengers, but I just let them sweep me onto the train and Eureka! I was on at last.
It is a wonder that more people don't pass out on the suburban trains--there isn't a millimeter to spare between you and the hundred or so fellow passengers surrounding you, and the only available air is from the myriad fans that circulated the hot, humid air somewhere above your head. I really don't know how a short passenger would survive. The lucky ones were able to hang out the open doorways and feel the breeze as the train rushed along.
Fortunately for women, there are special ''women only'' cars that seem to be a tiny bit less crowded than the one I was on. By the time we made Dadar, about half the crowd had departed, and I actually got a seat to myself. We arrived at Churchgate exactly 30 minutes after departing Andheri. The following week I departed on the local train from Ville Parle at around the same time--it was the same price as from Andheri, but far less crowded; by the time we reached Bandra there were a couple of empty seats. And it only took 10 minutes longer than the express. The return trips on both trains were fine, though since I was leaving before the evening rush, I can't say that the rush hour experience returning north would be any less grueling than the trip into town.
Now none of this is to imply that I didn't enjoy the experience--I think the Mumbai suburban railway is a marvel--the trains are just about as uncomfortable as they could be, they're dirty, poorly-lit, paint-peeling monsters from a prior age, but they are undeniably efficient.
Even the NY subways don't run as frequently as the Mumbai suburban trains, and without them, the city of Mumbai would come to a standstill. Metro-North in NY is plush, air-conditioned, relatively uncrowded, but a train ticket there costs about 10 times what first class costs in Mumbai (and over 100 times second class), and there is no way the average working stiff in Mumbai could afford the kinds of tariffs s/he would have to pay for that level of comfort.
There has been talk of upgrading the trains with new cars and making the experience more comfortable for all concerned, but to do this, a few thousand corrupt politicians and bloated businessmen would have to start directing public funds towards the effort, and I sincerely doubt that will happen. Until this happens, the hot, dirty, uncomfortable--but efficient--suburban railway will have to do.
And I am happy now that I've found an alternative to price-gouging car- and taxi-drivers, and a newfound freedom to explore the wonders of Mumbai unencumbered.
