Death on the Line

The Mumbra train tragedy exposed yet again how Mumbai’s lifeline has become a daily gamble with death.

On the morning of June 9, as Mumbai’s denizens rushed to work, hoping to make it on time, a group of commuters fell off two fast-moving local trains between Diva and Mumbra stations. What was supposed to be a regular Monday morning turned into a day of mourning for several families.

Witnesses say the trains were overcrowded. Many passengers were hanging from the doors and clinging to footboards because there was simply no space inside. At one point on a curve between stations, a commuter’s bag hit another person. This small bump caused a domino effect causing more than a dozen people to fall off the moving trains, landing on the tracks below.

Among the dead was a young railway constable, likely a helper to many, alongside daily wage workers and students simply trying to get somewhere. Two remain critically injured.

Grief hangs heavy. One mother recalled her son leaving for his new job, smiling, not knowing it would be their last goodbye. A father, mourning his daughter, asked, “Why does our city make commuting a life-risking task?”

This is no anomaly. Between Kalwa, Mumbra and Diva, over 30 lives were lost to similar accidents in 2022–23. In just the first five months of this year, 51 people have fallen from trains in the Pune division alone. These are not just statistics but lives lost, dreams cruelly smashed and families broken.

The causes are tragically familiar and entirely avoidable. Chronic overcrowding during peak hours leaves commuters clinging to the edges of carriages. On the treacherous curves between Mumbra and Diva, coaches tilt just enough to send people tumbling. With too few trains to meet demand, each journey becomes a test of balance and luck. Standing near doors—routinely blamed as reckless behaviour—is often not a choice but a compulsion.

Warnings were not lacking. In February, a commuter, Anand Maruti Patil, wrote to railway officials urging more services from Diva and a reconfiguration of the hazardous track layout. The plea, like many before it, was ignored.

The latest tragedy saw politicians across the spectrum respond swiftly, but only in rhetoric. Maharashtra’s Chief Minister, Devendra Fadnavis, labelled the incident “very unfortunate” and offered Rs. 5 lakh in compensation. Deputy CM Ajit Pawar promised safety improvements and decongestion. Congress’s Harshwardhan Sapkal demanded the railway minister’s resignation and a higher payout of Rs. 25 lakh. Raj Thackeray of the MNS, true to form, blamed migrants for straining Mumbai’s creaking rail system.

Such reactions offer little solace to families whose loved ones boarded a train but never came home.

Meanwhile, railway officials have pledged safety upgrades by installing automatic doors on suburban trains and inspections of hazardous curves. But grieving families want action, not assurances.

The causes are well known: too many passengers, too few trains, outdated coaches, and poor infrastructure. On curved tracks like those near Mumbra, overcrowded trains lean outward, turning routine commutes deadly. Emergency care at stations is still missing, despite court orders.

Experts have long called for solutions in the form of more trains and coaches, re-engineered tracks, automatic doors, medical teams at stations and AI-based crowd monitoring. Then again, education and enforcement must go hand in hand, with fines for risky behaviour and real accountability for officials. Above all, authorities must start listening to those who ride the trains every day.

But this is not possible until the administration and the authorities start regarding commuters as lives who count, and not just numbers to be recorded in ever-growing casualty lists. We must all remember that every victim was a person. They had names, families to care for and dreams to achieve. People like Mayur Shah, who was planning to get married next year, or Rahul Gupta, who was the sole support of his parents and siblings. Or take Ketan Saroj, a young student who loved cricket.

Their loss is a grim reminder that Mumbai’s trains, long dubbed the city’s lifeline, are becoming death traps for the very people they are meant to serve. We cannot allow daily travel to become a game of chance. Nor must this tragedy be allowed to be forgotten in a news cycle. It should be the catalyst of some real change that saves lives and gives dignity to every person who boards a train to chase their dreams. Let us not wait for another Monday morning to turn into mourning.

(The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)