This post is written especially for those of you who have, in one way or another, defended India's railway system. "It's not *that* bad...", "In Russia...", "blah blah blah Tagore blah blah blah Bengal...". Yeah, alright, I listened attentively and heard every word. But then I got onto a train and everything you said was muted by the noise, melted in the heat, and crushed by the impossibly large number of dusty, pushy feet balancing briefcases, baskets of fish, and swaying to staticky pop music blaring from ubiquitous cell phones. Antiquated trains in India may be defensible, but no half-decent lawyer would take the case, I can assure you.
On Friday morning, i took the afternoon train to Mumbai... i had overslept and missed the direct train, and wound up having to switch at a station in between, ending up on a local train for the second half of the journey. For some reason I couldn't find the women's compartment; the one compartment that was actually labeled "women only" was filled with men, and due to extra holiday chaos, the mad rush of saris, bangles, and shiny braids only confused me further. As the train was about to pull away, i finally jumped into the nearest compartment, shoved my way in a few feet from the door, and stood crushed between several sweaty men and an elderly lady resigned to holding an enormous basket of shiny dead fish. "It's OK" I told myself... only an hour to go. A few of the nearby men eyed me wearily, and a young guy with shoulder-length greasy hair commented that I should have gone to the ladies' compartment. "Yeah, I tried", I replied, doing my best to carefully balance annoyance with defiance. He shrugged and looked away. I smiled to myself - I did it! I can survive the trains in India, no problem.
It's amazing how things can suddenly take a bad turn. There I was, about half way into the train ride, stuck between several sweaty bodies, holding on to the nearby peeling yellow railing and staring out the "door" watching nameless valleys and villages fly by. And then suddenly I felt a surge of heat wash over me... everything around me moved faster, and then slowed down... bright flashes of light were followed by blurry black shapes floating in front of my eyes, circling me... my knees felt weak, my lips dry, and I couldn't be sure if i was still holding on to the railing or if I had drifted off. I was about to faint. I don't know if it was the heat or the smell or the fact that I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, but with a slow feeling of dread I realized that in just a few seconds, I would surely be falling, flat onto sickeningly familiar feet and dirty metal ground. I took a breath, but not too deep - I can't fall, I can't pass out. I can't, I can't, I won't! I have to stand, have to hold on. I searched blindly through my bag for an old piece of hard candy lodged at the bottom... i put it in my mouth, tried to bite down, suck some sugar in before my knees gave up. I was holding on, but just barely. I remembered that the man standing next to me spoke English; I tapped him, hard - he turned and I said "I think I'm going to faint". "Where you going?" he asked; I repeated, "I'm going to faint, to pass out." "OK yes" he replied, understanding nothing but nodding assuredly anyway. Damn it. India. Trains. Trains in India. I can't pass out, I can't I can't I can't.
I didn't have a choice... I had to make a decision, fast. My body wasn't going to deal with standing up for very much longer, and anyway at this point I could barely think clearly. I made up my mind. Carefully holding on to the railing, I slid my body down to the floor, sitting flat on the grungy surface, eye level with the lady who was by now also sitting, basket of fish in her lap, sweat and river water drip drip dripping out. I put my head between my knees. Breathe. It's okay. It'll be over soon. Just keep breathing. But not too much!
I eventually stumbled out of the train at Dadar, one station early. I took an overpriced taxi (who's going to bargain at this point?) to Neelam's apartment and collapsed on her couch. A few hours later, I had regained my composure and was ready to tackle the city heat, wade through traffic, and even take the train again. But I learned my lesson about underestimating anything in India. You may think you know, you may think you're in control, and then suddenly the beast breaks free and you find yourself staggering, gasping, falling in an unfamiliar space that is too suddenly becoming commonplace.
I spent the weekend in Mumbai, celebrating Diwali with Neelam. I took the train back to Palghar Saturday night and spent most of Sunday working on various projects with the comfort of a ceiling fan and cold water. Just to make sure that the chaos described above is fully appreciated (or at least as much as possible from the comforts of American living rooms!), I'm trying to upload a video I shot last weekend of the women's compartment in a local train. Please keep in mind that this is only about half as bad as the men's... my upload today was unsuccessful, but I'll try again tomorrow!
1 comment:
oh man, that sounds awful. Once, last summer, I was stuck in a train car with no air conditioning. It was so hot that when the doors opened to the 100-degree heat outside, it felt like a cool breeze compared to the 115 degrees it must've been inside the car. I was wedged between two sweaty dudes, one of which was literally melting - we're talking waterfalls of sweat here. I was surprised there was anything left of him after 7 stops. That was bad, but luckily no one was carrying a basket of fish. I imagine that would've taken the entire experience to a whole other level.
Post a Comment