I have now been in India for over
two years and a half after my return from South Africa. Over one quarter of
that time I have passed on the Indian trains travelling third class by choice.
I have travelled up north as far as Lahore, down south up to Tranquebar, and
from Karachi to Calcutta. Having resorted to third class travelling, among
other reasons, for the purpose of studying the conditions under which this
class of passengers travel, I have naturally made as critical observations as I
could. I have fairly covered the majority of railway systems during this
period. Now and then I have entered into correspondence with the management of
the different railways about the defects that have come under my notice. But I
think that the time has come when I should invite the press and the public to
join in a crusade against a grievance which has too long remained unredressed,
though much of it is capable of redress without great difficulty.
On the 12th instant I booked at
Bombay for Madras by the mail train and paid Rs. 13-9. It was labelled to carry
22 passengers. These could only have seating accommodation. There were no bunks
in this carriage whereon passengers could lie with any degree of safety or
comfort. There were two nights to be passed in this train before reaching
Madras. If not more than 22 passengers found their way into my carriage before
we reached Poona, it was because the bolder ones kept the others at bay. With
the exception of two or three insistent passengers, all had to find their sleep
being seated all the time. After reaching Raichur the pressure became unbearable.
The rush of passengers could not be stayed. The fighters among us found the
task almost beyond them. The guards or other railway servants came in only to
push in more passengers.
A defiant Memon merchant protested
against this packing of passengers like sardines. In vain did he say that this
was his fifth night on the train. The guard insulted him and referred him to
the management at the terminus. There were during this night as many as 35
passengers in the carriage during the greater part of it. Some lay on the floor
in the midst of dirt and some had to keep standing. A free fight was, at one
time, avoided only by the intervention of some of the older passengers who did
not want to add to the discomfort by an exhibition of temper.
On the way passengers got for tea
tannin water with filthy sugar and a whitish looking liquid mis-called milk
which gave this water a muddy appearance. I can vouch for the appearance, but I
cite the testimony of the passengers as to the taste.
Not during the whole of the journey
was the compartment once swept or cleaned. The result was that every time you
walked on the floor or rather cut your way through the passengers seated on the
floor, you waded through dirt.
The closet was also not cleaned
during the journey and there was no water in the water tank.
Refreshments sold to the passengers
were dirty-looking, handed by dirtier hands, coming out of filthy receptacles
and weighed in equally unattractive scales. These were previously sampled by
millions of flies. I asked some of the passengers who went in for these
dainties to give their opinion. Many of them used choice expressions as to the
quality but were satisfied to state that they were helpless in the matter; they
had to take things as they came.
On reaching the station I found
that the ghari-wala would not take me unless I paid the fare he wanted. I
mildly protested and told him I would[Pg 5] pay him the authorised fare. I had
to turn passive resister before I could be taken. I simply told him he would
have to pull me out of the ghari or call the policeman.
The return journey was performed in
no better manner. The carriage was packed already and but for a friend's
intervention I could not have been able to secure even a seat. My admission was
certainly beyond the authorised number. This compartment was constructed to
carry 9 passengers but it had constantly 12 in it. At one place an important
railway servant swore at a protestant, threatened to strike him and locked the
door over the passengers whom he had with difficulty squeezed in. To this
compartment there was a closet falsely so called. It was designed as a European
closet but could hardly be used as such. There was a pipe in it but no water, and
I say without fear of challenge that it was pestilentially dirty.
The compartment itself was evil
looking. Dirt was lying thick upon the wood work and I do not know that it had
ever seen soap or water.
The compartment had an exceptional
assortment of passengers. There were three stalwart Punjabi Mahomedans, two
refined Tamilians and two Mahomedan merchants who joined us later. The
merchants related the bribes they had to give to procure comfort. One of the
Punjabis had already travelled three nights and was weary and fatigued. But he
could not stretch himself. He said he had sat the whole day at the Central
Station watching passengers giving bribe to procure their tickets. Another said
he had himself to pay Rs. 5 before he could get his ticket and his seat. These
three men were bound for Ludhiana and had still more nights of travel in store
for them.
What I have described is not
exceptional but normal. I have got down at Raichur, Dhond, Sonepur,
Chakradharpur, Purulia, Asansol and other junction stations and been at the
'Mosafirkhanas' attached to these stations. They are [Pg
6]discreditable-looking places where there is no order, no cleanliness but
utter confusion and horrible din and noise. Passengers have no benches or not
enough to sit on. They squat on dirty floors and eat dirty food. They are
permitted to throw the leavings of their food and spit where they like, sit how
they like and smoke everywhere. The closets attached to these places defy
description. I have not the power adequately to describe them without
committing a breach of the laws of decent speech. Disinfecting powder, ashes,
or disinfecting fluids are unknown. The army of flies buzzing about them warns
you against their use. But a third-class traveller is dumb and helpless. He
does not want to complain even though to go to these places may be to court
death. I know passengers who fast while they are travelling just in order to
lessen the misery of their life in the trains. At Sonepur flies having failed,
wasps have come forth to warn the public and the authorities, but yet to no
purpose. At the Imperial Capital a certain third class booking-office is a
Black-Hole fit only to be destroyed.
Is it any wonder that plague has
become endemic in India? Any other result is impossible where passengers always
leave some dirt where they go and take more on leaving.
On Indian trains alone passengers
smoke with impunity in all carriages irrespective of the presence of the fair
sex and irrespective of the protest of non-smokers. And this, notwithstanding a
bye-law which prevents a passenger from smoking without the permission of his
fellows in the compartment which is not allotted to smokers.
The existence of the awful war
cannot be allowed to stand in the way of the removal of this gigantic evil. War
can be no warrant for tolerating dirt and overcrowding. One could understand an
entire stoppage of passenger traffic in a crisis like this, but never a
continuation or accentuation of insanitation and conditions that must undermine
health and morality.
Compare the lot of the first class
passengers with that of the third class. In the Madras case the first class
fare is over five times as much as the third class fare. Does the third class
passenger get one-fifth, even one-tenth, of the comforts of his first class
fellow? It is but simple justice to claim that some relative proportion be
observed between the cost and comfort.
It is a known fact that the third
class traffic pays for the ever-increasing luxuries of first and second class
travelling. Surely a third class passenger is entitled at least to the bare
necessities of life.
In neglecting the third class
passengers, opportunity of giving a splendid education to millions in
orderliness, sanitation, decent composite life and cultivation of simple and
clean tastes is being lost. Instead of receiving an object lesson in these
matters third class passengers have their sense of decency and cleanliness
blunted during their travelling experience.
Among the many suggestions that can
be made for dealing with the evil here described, I would respectfully include
this: let the people in high places, the Viceroy, the Commander-in-Chief, the
Rajas, Maharajas, the Imperial Councillors and others, who generally travel in
superior classes, without previous warning, go through the experiences now and
then of third class travelling. We would then soon see a remarkable change in
the conditions of third class travelling and the uncomplaining millions will
get some return for the fares they pay under the expectation of being carried
from place to place with ordinary creature comforts.
Source: Ranchi, September 25, 1917.