Fatal Commute

Mumbai’s lifeline bled again. During Monday’s morning rush, as millions of hapless commuters jostled onto groaning steel carriages that pass for suburban trains, at least five commuters fell to their deaths from an overcrowded local train. A dozen more were flung like ragdolls onto the tracks. Horrific videos of mangled bodies on the tracks went viral even as Central Railway issued boilerplate statements.

The hapless passengers, who were dangling off the footboards of a heaving local train heading to Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus (CSMT), lost balance reportedly after their bags brushed against another passing train. That such tragedies occur with such regularity and such little consequence is a damning indictment of Indian Railways’ wilful neglect and the political cowardice that enables it.

The incident was chilling testament to the silent war the working class fights daily for a foothold on a moving train. In a country obsessed with GDP and development, it is morbidly ironic that the cost of earning a living can be one’s life. The gruesome deaths starkly underscore that in India’s richest city, even basic dignity during a commute is a luxury. It speaks volumes about the normalisation of institutional failure.

India’s financial capital has for decades run its railways on a model fuelled by volume and indifference. Every day, 7.5 million people cram themselves into Mumbai’s suburban trains, the city’s vascular system, at double or triple the designed capacity. They hang out of doors, clutch at poles, brace themselves against strangers and hope, desperately, not to fall.

The response from railway officials is as ritualistic as it is ineffectual. An inquiry has been launched. Compensation will trickle in. The tragedy will be politicized by the Opposition and a slanging match will ensue with the ruling Mahayuti. Still others will blame the victims for travelling on footboards while conveniently forgetting that they had no other choice.

What is particularly galling is a contrast. On the same day as the Mumbra tragedy, Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis ceremonially flagged off a new luxury ‘Bharat Gaurav’ tourist train to mark the 351st coronation anniversary of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. It had 710 passengers and presumably, enough seats for all. The symbolism is too rich to ignore. Even as Mumbai’s poor die getting to work, its leaders indulge in commemorative pageantry and vanity trains. The Ministry of Railways and the Central Railway administration must now confront uncomfortable truths. Cosmetic upgrades, tourist trains and heritage platforms mean nothing when a basic ride to work turns fatal. The Indian state cannot speak of bullet trains while it fails to protect life at 40 kilometres an hour.

What happened in Mumbra is not merely Mumbai’s shame but India’s as well. This tragedy must serve as a national reckoning. Mumbai does not need any more symbolism. It needs safe, reliable, adequately frequent trains with automatic doors, wider platforms and accountability for negligence. Until then, every ticket punched or railway pass withdrawn is no promise of safe travel but a gamble with death.