Suburban Trains and Train Stations

Train stations always look older than they are. Even the brand new ones. Suburban stations are no exception. Every station is made up of the same set of things—Concrete platforms eroded around the edges, steel pillars painted in silver, brittle cement sheets for shade, pistachio-coloured Almonard fans to beat the heat, and the uncomfortable nozzle taps which have to be pushed upwards to quench your thirst (and to serve as a premise for separating twins in 80s Tamil movies).

I’ve spent a good share of my twenties at suburban train stations, as I had a four-hour commute to and from my university. Until I graduated, train stations fed me, comforted me, and made me feel at home. I wouldn’t have survived the long commute without the ghee biscuits, the Himachal apple juice, two rupee water packets and five rupee Haldiram’s namkeen packs.

Suburban trains never disappoint. Each compartment has something to offer: a glance from a pretty stranger, a random quarrel among passengers, some spiced guava, couples in love, or friends laughing at a bad joke.

The interior of the train is a canvas of creativity. You won’t find anything good in there, except for scribbles like “Ammu loves Ajay” and “Shilpa loves Gangsta Ravi”, and random power statements from an unnamed group called “RKG Star boys”. Not to mention the fluorescent coloured notices telling us about the hazards of hydrocele or a catchy notice telling us all it takes is 15 minutes a day for us to become millionaires by making use of the advertised business opportunity.

At any given point, suburban train stations see only three types of people: the ones who are late for something, the ones who are tired after a day’s work, and the ones who are clueless. During the mornings, we are the first type. And in the evenings, we become the second type. If you’re new to the city, you’ll be the third type.

While city junctions mark the beginning for someone new in the city, regular commutes in suburban trains fixes their place in the city. Every person who waits at the train station is a proof of how many lives the city has created. It gave them a job and a home to go to. It gave them money to afford ghee biscuits and namkeen packets. It made them tired. But an oncoming train into the platform makes them forget all their tiredness and fills their eyes with hope—hope of getting home on time, spending time with family and getting rest. All to get up and rush to the nearest suburban station the next day.