Any Mumbaikar who has grown up in Mumbai or allowed the city to grow onto them will agree with the claim that life in ‘Maximum City’ would be impossible (unless you are an Ambani) without its lifeline – the local train. Similarly, one ought to have drenched and found themselves in knee-deep flooded streets to have experienced the phenomenon called Mumbai rains. The pains and gains of the local trains and Mumbai rains notwithstanding, the two are an inseparable part of any Mumbaikar’s identity.
That Maiden Journey Into The Wonder Called Mumbai Locals
I have shared a long association with Mumbai’s local trains. As a proud non-owner of a car or even a bike (when you can’t buy them, hate them) the Mumbai local has been both a necessity and a luxury. I had my first brush with the Mumbai local as a 7-year-old boy when my mother took me to the Siddhivinayak Temple in Prabhadevi. I had no idea of the phenomenon called Dadar station that would years later become the source of a famous meme on social media – “Darr kea aage jeet hai, Dadar ke aage seat hai”.
However, that was a one-time occurrence and all I remember from that journey is the memorable wind hitting my face when I dared to get close to the footboard. I would not have dared to step any further anyway. Maybe it was the early indication of my fascination with flirting with danger.
A long time passed after that and I had to wait for over 6 years for my next encounter with the fabled local train. This time, I vividly remember every detail. Not because I had entered the infamous teenage years, but because I had a close shave with death this time – courtesy of my inexperience and a fellow schoolboy’s reckless advice. My gullible nature and agreeable personality have got me into trouble more often than not.
The spread of local train network helps the city be on track
The Rush Of Teenage Years And First Brush With Mumbai Locals
The year was 2003 and it must have been November’s first week as Mumbai’s ‘limited winter’ had just set in. I was in class 8 and used to walk to school. That day I met a boy named Shoaib who had recently moved from Lucknow to Mumbai and taken admission to (boys only) school, St. Theresa’s High School in Bandra West. He insisted we take the local train as he had developed a fondness for the locals. It came as no surprise to me as outsiders fall in love with Mumbai and all its facets quite easily.
While Shoaib had become a pro in getting into locals and alighting from it, I on the other hand, despite having grown up in Mumbai was a novice when it came to local trains. The train halted at Khar Road station and we had to run to ensure we didn’t miss the train as it arrived before we could reach the platform. We rushed and managed to reach the platform. Knowing that we hardly had a few seconds left, Shoaib got inside the ladies, well aware that our school uniforms would save us from getting thrown out by the women inside. “Come quickly, get inside,” Shoaib yelled at me. I wanted to follow him but the all-boys school student in me rebelled. I thought there was enough time to run and take the second-class general coach, ignoring that the horn had blown and the train had started moving.
I panicked and rushed and by the time reached the second-class compartment, the train had caught speed. As I was running in the opposite direction to which the train was moving, I managed to grab hold of the pillar placed between the door but couldn’t balance myself. I was almost flung out of the moving local train but managed to cling to the pillar like a snake coiled to a rod.
After this incident, there was a few years gap before I stepped inside a local train. Not because of that unpleasant incident but because my world was limited from home to college at that time which was only 2 km apart. Or as a Mumbaikar would put it, “a mere 15-minute walk” from home, effortlessly replacing distance with time.
Mumbai Rains Makes Its Presence Felt In The City And My Life
The Mumbai local trains run relentlessly 365 days a year. No festival or occasion can give Mumbai’s lifeline an “off day”. The locals were also running non-stop on the day Mumbai was rocked by serial bomb blasts on March 12, 1993 and the blasts in July 2006 when explosions were executed in the trains itself. However, there is one phenomenon that can and has brought the local train services to a halt in the city and that is Mumbai rains. What is just a season and a break from the scorching summers in most parts of the country is a phenomenon in the ‘maximum city’.
Every Mumbaikar who was old enough to grasp what was happening on July 26, 2005, will never forget that day when the entire city drowned. Mumbai witnessed unprecedented rainfall that day which resulted in loss of lives and properties. The city truly came to a standstill and remained paralysed for a few days after the deluge. I was 15 years old at that time and remember that day vividly. While I rejoiced at the fact that school would be closed the next day, little did I anticipate that it was only a matter of time before the water would gush into our homes and locality.
Mumbaikars have a love-hate relationship with rain. While the city truly comes alive during the monsoon, the many woes that the unplanned city has to face makes commuting to work and travelling when it pours an extremely difficult task.
Ek ladka bheega bhaga sa…
However, it is only thanks to the heavy rains that the city gets its quota of water which fulfils the needs of the ever-growing population in the city. For that, one has to be thankful and happily ignore the many inconveniences that the city has to offer when it rains cats and dogs which is more often than not the case.
Also, one thing that Mumbai rains regularly exposes is the shoddy work and continous failure of the authorities in dealing with water-logging, flooding and rain-related woes. Not to mention, potholes that claim more lives in the country than terrorist attacks and breaks the backs of motorists.
Locals Changed And So Did I
Naturally, as the city has grown and changed over the years (the city was called Bombay before it was rechristened as Mumbai in 1995), both Mumbai’s local trains and rains have changed. And the change has been more than just surface level. That applies to me as well.
While the look of Mumbai locals underwent a makeover, the introduction of AC local trains added to the appeal of Mumbai’s lifeline. Somewhere, I relate to the changes happening in this city and with its lifeline. While the looks have changed competing with the world standards, the soul remains Mumbaikar to the core.
To summarise the long essay, I will borrow a line from Bollywood, the film industry for which Mumbai has long been a generous muse. While there may be challenges gallore, I would prefer anyday sitting at the Marine Drive after getting down from a local train, drenched in Mumbai rain, singing aloud – “Tu mera khuda, tu hi dua mein shamil, tere bina guzara, ae dil hai mushkil.”
