Railways have been an integral part of my life. Always.
It was a Sunday in February 2010. I was working with Wendy Champagne then, on two stories - one was about the fishermen in Mumbai and the other about the diamond trade. So we would visit the Worli Fishermen's colony with photographer Hubert Hayaud and researcher Mayra Roffe, go around, talk to people.
That Sunday evening, Wendy dropped me at Dadar station around 8. I came to platform 4, hoping to catch the 8 O'clock Karjat fast. As it was a Sunday, there wasn't a huge crowd, neither was the train already packed. And yet, I was ready to jump in the train, and catch a good seat. As I tried to jump, my hand that was holding the pole in the middle slipped and I fell on the platform with a thud, banging my head on my right. Though I knew I was safe and wasn't going to die, my whole life flashed in front of my eyes like a movie reel. The train halts at Dadar for a bit longer than normal as the Punjab Mail leaves just before that from the adjoining platform. That give me enough time to get up, helped by the other women and get in the compartment.
I sat down, totally in a dizzy. One woman asked me if I was the one who had fallen down. I nodded with tears in my eyes. She said, 'Why did you do that?' A question I have asked many other women who try to jump in the running train, later in my life.
I don't remember when and how I reached home. I broke down the moment I entered. Between sobs, I explained what had happened.
I just kept saying, I was afraid I wouldn't see you all again. Ever.
Did I mean, they might never have seen me? Probably.
I must have cried for a good half hour.
Then I slept. When I woke up next morning, I couldn't move my neck. It was jammed after taking the blow. I told Wendy I wouldn't work that day.
I learnt a lesson that day. A big lesson.
I never jump in a moving train now, not do I try to get in a very crowded train, hanging out. It helps that my daughter is grown up now, and my mother in law takes care of the dinner everyday.
Why do women do the strangest things to get in a jam packed train?
1. To pick up a child from the creche before it closes for the day.
2. To make dinner for the family.
3. To help the kids in studies.
If only,
they had a supporting family, who would take care of some of the chorus.
If only,
the father helped in some cooking.
If only,
the child was explained from early on not to make life difficult for others when the mother is late.
I have always wondered if this stress of travelling in Mumbai locals, takes away a few years from our lives.
Like you have statistics about how a cigarette/alcohol/tobacco takes away certain hours from your life.
It was a Sunday in February 2010. I was working with Wendy Champagne then, on two stories - one was about the fishermen in Mumbai and the other about the diamond trade. So we would visit the Worli Fishermen's colony with photographer Hubert Hayaud and researcher Mayra Roffe, go around, talk to people.
That Sunday evening, Wendy dropped me at Dadar station around 8. I came to platform 4, hoping to catch the 8 O'clock Karjat fast. As it was a Sunday, there wasn't a huge crowd, neither was the train already packed. And yet, I was ready to jump in the train, and catch a good seat. As I tried to jump, my hand that was holding the pole in the middle slipped and I fell on the platform with a thud, banging my head on my right. Though I knew I was safe and wasn't going to die, my whole life flashed in front of my eyes like a movie reel. The train halts at Dadar for a bit longer than normal as the Punjab Mail leaves just before that from the adjoining platform. That give me enough time to get up, helped by the other women and get in the compartment.
I sat down, totally in a dizzy. One woman asked me if I was the one who had fallen down. I nodded with tears in my eyes. She said, 'Why did you do that?' A question I have asked many other women who try to jump in the running train, later in my life.
I don't remember when and how I reached home. I broke down the moment I entered. Between sobs, I explained what had happened.
I just kept saying, I was afraid I wouldn't see you all again. Ever.
Did I mean, they might never have seen me? Probably.
I must have cried for a good half hour.
Then I slept. When I woke up next morning, I couldn't move my neck. It was jammed after taking the blow. I told Wendy I wouldn't work that day.
I learnt a lesson that day. A big lesson.
I never jump in a moving train now, not do I try to get in a very crowded train, hanging out. It helps that my daughter is grown up now, and my mother in law takes care of the dinner everyday.
Why do women do the strangest things to get in a jam packed train?
1. To pick up a child from the creche before it closes for the day.
2. To make dinner for the family.
3. To help the kids in studies.
If only,
they had a supporting family, who would take care of some of the chorus.
If only,
the father helped in some cooking.
If only,
the child was explained from early on not to make life difficult for others when the mother is late.
I have always wondered if this stress of travelling in Mumbai locals, takes away a few years from our lives.
Like you have statistics about how a cigarette/alcohol/tobacco takes away certain hours from your life.
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