Feature: Mumbai Local Trains - A Class Apart

by Mihir Suvanam

Image by Blaine Rodrigues

Just to fuck with your head, the Western Railways Corporation classified different coaches on their train system as First Class and Second Class. It’s all the same class really and we are all equally fucked no matter what class we travel. Nobody here gets out smelling like jasmine. But what this class distinction does do is induce in the working class a false sense of status.

I pay about 800 odd Rupees for a 3 month ‘First Class’ pass to travel from Santacruz to Elphinstone Road. Why do I buy this in spite of knowing that there are an equal number of bodies stacked in to my compartment as compared to the other un-striped compartment? Because I’m a classist whore and the first class stacks me up against pin-striped, educated, white collar, bespectacled, novel readers. I deserve no less. If I am going to be showered with warm sweat it’d better be from these gentlemen.

But these men are probably somebody else’s bitches too, which is why they waste no time in exerting their superiority once inside the ‘First Class’ black hole. If an un-stripped, laborer-type bhaiya is spotted in our little slice of luxury, then God have mercy on him. It’s not like he’s single handedly causing the compartment to overflow with human bodies. The average reaction before someone notices him is about 6 seconds; somebody will smugly say “Yeh first class hai!” That’s it. No solution will be offered or no moral will be taught. A fact will be stated in its entirety. And then the gent will wait for the words to take effect. This will melt thebhaiya’s ego, the last dying cell of his self-respect will commit suicide and his head will hang low. At the next stop he will get down and merge with the non-perfumed sweat of his un-stripped brethren.

The gent who reacted first will be hailed as the hero of the ‘First Class’ clunker. He’ll probably be allowed to alight at his desired stop as a supreme gesture of gratitude. The justification for the reaction is frequently discussed after the bhaiya realizes his true place in the scheme of Mumbai’s Urban Transport System. “We pay the extra money for First Class so we can have some space and foamed seats, so why should we let somebody who hasn’t deserved this place have it for no reason?”

Class systems have existed since human beings realized the monetary value of exclusivity. Half the point of this exclusivity is the experience – for example flying First Class on a long haul international flight is a great experience, with expensive single malt, gourmet meals, 180 degree beds and the occasional bathroom sex – but the other more important point of this flight that costs the equivalent of the GDP of a small African country is The Brag. Oh the sweet brag, the twitpic and the status update and the inconsequential story with a faux plot that you’d narrate to your friend in the middle of which, very subtly, you’d let it slip in that you were travelling First Class. But that’s justified, its how we have evolved as a race.

But what is the WR/CR trying to sell us? Definitely not the experience – my body has taken shapes that would put an amoeba to shame, I have gotten in smelling of Eau de Toilette and gotten out smelling of, well, a toilet. So is it the brag? I work at one of the nicer financial centers in the country. They have sporadic lawns and terraces and fountains and a grand visitors entrance where swanky German cars drop you to the doorstep of the lobby. The lobby itself puts most of the city 5 stars to shame - they have palm trees and a giant screen and the air always smells of roses. They have pointless monuments dubbed as modern art. They also have a backside entrance for laborers, trucks and people that travel by trains. Not that I’m ashamed of travelling by trains, I think they are a fantastic, cheap, super-efficient mode of transport. But I certainly don’t see the brag value in travelling First Class either.  

So why does the First Class exist on the Mumbai Local? This is probably the only distinction that the working class can afford in their entire lives. We can’t afford a country club membership, we can’t afford first class flight tickets, we can’t afford the three point star car, but we can afford membership to the interiors of the First Class Compartment. This membership gives us hope that like this there are other exclusive clubs waiting for us. This gives us the tolerance to be someone else’s bitch for 8 hours. This membership is sacred to us and we won’t allow any random laborer to take that away from us.

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Mihir Suvanam is very confused. When he isn't ranting about trains, he's either being a financial analyst or a photographer or trying to manage his music store.

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