Train to Churchgate

Train to Churchgate 

 I admit my long love affair with this throbbing but graceful crown jewel of Mumbai. The collage of magnificent art deco buildings; Churchgate station, western railway head office next door, Old telegraph office, Eros cinema, are serene to senses and scenic to look. The landmark institutions like Asiatic stores, Gaylord, and K Rustom ice cream shop make my day by their grace and dignity. 

 I lived at Hari Niwas on C road circa 1974 as a young, impressionable youth, instantly making me feel belonged. The paradox of staying in this epitome of vanity and walking to my office, a dump behind GPO in Fort never left me. 

 Commemorating my love, my wife and I visit the area every weekend for the past 25 years. Our usual stop is the Not Just the Pizza by the Bay or Status restaurant slightly ahead. It depends on what food fancies us. 

 On a good day, I take the local train to Churchgate, arriving at the imposing Bandra station at around 12.00 noon. Mumbai’s rail protocol allows you to jump a long queue to buy a first-class ticket. A rush-hour over, the station appears in a siesta mode. Mumbai trains are almost never late, so I quickly buy Mid-Day and board the train. Joy in my heart and spring in my feet. 

 The train is modern, sparkling, less noisy, placed on tracks recently. The compartment is all steel, chrome, and glass; too modern for my simple taste. I miss the old train, wooden seats covered in thin blue leather; ugly but robust, old but rugged, giving out khat-khat-khat sound that never failed to lull me to sleep I do not get even in my bed. Many things have changed in Mumbai trains except for passengers who are the same as in the past. They carry life's burden, and yet smile at fellow passengers, they play cards; they read folded newspapers, and they have an uncanny ability of sleeping while standing. 

 I enter the majestic foyer of the station, breathing a life of its own. The milling crowd of thousands of harried commuters moves about in a giant, fluid dance of hurry. I sit down on a bench on one platform as if to meditate. The surrounding chaos appears orderly, pre-ordained, and in sync with life. I feel I am in suspended animation. The four trains are waiting on platforms, like an uncoiled snake about to slither. 

I head towards the subway exit leading to Eros Cinema that has now a vast array of shops, including a wine shop just in case one felt a need for a tipple heading home or to work. 

 My routine all these years is unvaried and unhurried. Shoe polish to begin with. The rhythm of shoe polish at the station mesmerizes me for a small sum of Rupees ten that used to 50 paise; the inflationary times of my life. Courtyard at Gaylord cannot appeal to my soul, where I enjoy a glass of beer. Lunch follows. In the past, I would always eat at Satkar outside the station, but the eatery has moved away. I try the Indian summer and conclude that it lacks the character of Satkar. 

 Air Cool is my next stop. The grand old gent's saloon sat next to Satkar but has now moved across the street. Entering Air-Cool soothes my frayed nerves instantly through soft piped music of old Hindi film songs. There is a heady aroma of after-shave, anti-septic lotions, and hair creams. Barbers, clothed in white, starched uniforms have been with saloon for decades and know me well. Speed is the essence here, not a moment ever wasted. In 30 minutes, I take in a bouquet of a haircut, shave and face massage and walk out clean and scrubbed fresh, to face Bombay's rigor again. 

 By now, it is almost 4 pm and I want to head home quickly to avoid the 5 pm commuter rush. I walk back to the station and board at 4.13 pm Bandra local. A few hours' outing revives me to deal with the trials and tribulations of Mumbai's life. I have been doing this for decades and will continue to do it as long as I live here. 

 This is something I hope you will do once in your life. You can put it on your bucket list. It’s sheer bliss to be you at Churchgate.