New Delhi: At 6pm on Friday, a time when there is a
crush of humanity
waiting for
local trains to take them home in the distant reaches of the
National Capital Territory, the train to
Palwal chugs into
New Delhi railway station.
There is no chaotic scramble to get on the train that will go to this small town in Haryana, 60km away. A man tries boarding the almost empty train, but is stopped in his track by a disembodied, irritated voice saying, “It’s the
Ladies Special.”
Soon after, the special train leaves on its hour-and-a-half-long journey to rural Haryana. The steel and brown interiors of the green and pale yellow train are remarkably empty. Just around 30 women have boarded the train. The three women-only trains carry far fewer than the other jam-packed EMU locals, but Friday’s is particularly low ridership.
Perhaps it has to do with the service restarting only a day earlier after an unexplained break of six months. Perhaps not many knew the Ladies Special was rolling once again, as it did when Mamata Banerjee, the then railway minister, gifted eight of these to the female workforce on Raksha Bandhan in August 2009.
On Friday, there was no announcement as the train arrived at New Delhi, only a hand-painted board on the driver’s coach designating it as reserved for women. And while, a group of women had agitated for resumption of this train service at Tilak Bridge station on Tuesday, it isn’t as if it provides the plushest of rides. For one, the train has no toilet. More importantly, security remains a concern despite the general absence of men.
Three Railway Protection Force personnel, two of them women, travel on the train. One of them, displaying a bit of exasperation, tells TOI that men frequently get on the train though they know it is meant exclusively for women. Also, she says, once she enters a coach, it is only when it stops at another station that she can get down and go into a different coach — because each coach is isolated from the others.
“I took this train for almost a year in 2013 when the coaches were interconnected and a single policeman could patrol the entire train. Now, the seven coaches are separated and nobody knows what is going on in the next compartment,” agrees 26-year-old Pinki Rajput, who travels daily from Palwal to her office in Sarita Vihar.
Ragini, 30, an office coordinator, who goes to Faridabad daily from Asaoti, a back of the beyond town, confirms that she takes the train though it is not “fully safe” because it cuts down on commute time. “On general trains, there is no guarantee of when we will reach home. I have even got home past 9.30pm at times,” says Ragini. “At least the Ladies Special is never late.”
Anju Sharma, 35, who started taking the train in 2009 soon after it started, reveals that the well-appointed train on the line was diverted three years ago and replaced by the current one with basic amenities. “Of course, we don’t want luxury, only safety,” she adds hastily. When asked about this, R N Singh, DRM,
Delhi Division, reassures, “We may again add toilets in the women’s special, though toilets have been dismantled in most EMU trains because passengers steal parts. The Ladies Special is on our list for upgradation in the next six months.” He also reasons that being a short-distance train, there is no pantry service, hence no requirement for the coaches to be interconnected.
For the passengers, the 90-minute ride is a time to unwind. The women make themselves comfortable, taking off their shoes, sitting cross-legged, even lying down with their bags as headrests. The absence of men gives the women a sense of kinship — a papad seller, a beauty parlour trainee and an inventory manager of a private firm are comfortable in each other’s company. Sister Pratima and Pratibha Chaurasia get the opportunity to catch up with each other only during the daily ride. “We have families of our own and don’t get a lot of time together otherwise,” confides Pratibha, 34.
Sonam Sanghi, who travels between New Town and Okhla, has found a friend she can “count on and gossip with”. What is more, she and her friend, Jyoti Dagar, a 29-year-old who also works at Okhla, have become the train’s self-appointed security guards. “We stand at the gate and stop any man from entering the train. It is our space,” smiles Dagar.
The railway knows the special train does not carry to its capacity. Pointsman Niranjan Singh at Palwal station seems to think the service was discontinued for six months because it did not make economic sense. “This train is a waste of resources because it is never filled to capacity,” Singh declares. But the women, sitting in relative comfort inside, would instinctively argue for security over profit.
(With inputs from Jasjeev Gandhiok)
