Book Review: Halt Station India

Book: Halt Station India

Author: Rajendra B. Aklekar

Publisher: Rupa Publications

Pages: 205

Price: 395

Smelly, ruthless, claustrophobic, cacophonous — these are words synonymous with Asia's oldest suburban railway network. Yet, this overburdened system remains the aorta of a city that's the financial heart of India. Each compartment of Mumbai's Central, Western and Harbour line trains is a microcosm of the city it serves. Many a tear, laugh, piece of gossip and fight are ensconced within the four walls of bogies frequented by everyone from fisher folk, trinket-sellers and dabbawalas to students, office-goers and homemakers.

It's this context in which journalist and railway enthusiast Rajendra Aklekar's first book becomes a fitting tribute to Mumbai's local trains. Although Indian train anthologies such as India Junction: A Window to the Nation remain in collective memory, few chronicle the railways' role in the growth of a city the way Halt Station India does.
Halt Station India is as much about the people and places that shaped Mumbai as it is about the trains themselves. Rightful due is given to James John Berkeley, the forgotten engineer behind India's (and Asia's) first railway line that ran between Bori Bunder (now Victoria or Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus) and Thane in 1853. Other names that surface are Raosaheb Sitaram Khanderao Vaidya, Victoria Terminus' (VT) assistant engineer under chief architect FW Stevens, BK Jadhav, VT's clock-keeper for over three decades, and the philanthropists who built the railway bridges and walkways we take for granted.

Revisiting India's maiden train journey is a treat, because personal accounts and newspapers of the day double as glimpses of colonialist thought and cultural clashes (relationships between English engineers and local labourers and contractors were strained, writes Aklekar). On April 16, 1953, the train — whose locomotives were named Sultan, Sindh and Sahib — left Bori Bunder to a 21 gun salute. "Not above a dozen Europeans were present, but thousands and thousands of natives who were attracted to the spot, gazed with an expression of wonderment at the smoking, hissing machine…" says a chest-thumping 1852 report in The Bombay Telegraph of the trial run. It's the kind of imagery that stays long after you keep the book aside.

Aklekar also delves into the genesis of each station's name. Ethnography and anecdotes aside, he underlines the catalytic nature of the railways in Mumbai's expansion. One learns about the strategic importance of Bombay as a trading hub for Indian cotton for the East India Company. About the hospitals, markets and townships that flourished because of the booming rail network. The role rail sidings played in establishing democracy in India, and the land reclamation projects that took off to extend the system. There are shout-outs to other Indian cities that contributed to Mumbai's train infrastructure: through the Mangalore tiles that became staples in the stations' tiled roofs and the 'art deco trains' from Kolkata-based Jessop & Company and Chennai's Integral Coach Factory (ICF).

Given its depth of information, Halt Station India would have been a perfect read but for the skimping of the history of the Bombay, Baroda and Central India Railway or BB&CI (now Western Railway). Of the 205 pages that make up the book, only 11 are dedicated to the Western line. Western Railway stations may be newer, but that doesn't justify the paucity of enthusiasm for this 151-year-old network. Aklekar writes fondly about Victoria Terminus, the Central Railway headquarters — understandable, given its place in Indian railway history. But he makes no mention of its designer FW Steven's other architectural marvel: the Western Railway Head Office in Churchgate. There are no accounts of how Western Railway stations got their names and nothing about the people, communities or businesses that flourished alongside these stops. Also perplexing is the absence of a vital part of Western Railway history: how several princely states such as the Gaekwads of Baroda merged their own railways with the BB&CI.

Despite this hiccup, Halt Station India is a must-read for both fans and critics of the country's oldest passenger train network. This is more than a chronicle of our often-maligned local trains — it's a paean to the city that birthed them. Aklekar's research is meticulous, and his storytelling draws you in. The book makes you want to forget about the local trains' slackening grip on punctuality (among other issues) and instead look at stations, gullies, and bridges with fresh eyes. It invokes a sense of pride, and that's no small feat.