'The Social Life Of Trains' book review: A book on rails that often derails

Amitava Kumar takes us on a journey with trains — a journey in which he touches upon history, literature and personal experiences. He sets the tone in a manner befitting the book: “the railway lines that criss-cross the country, and are longer even than our majestic rivers, bind the landscape into a whole and give it a sense of a nation.”

He has us revisit classics like Richard Attenborough’s Gandhi, Gulzar’s Raavi Paar, Kamal Amrohi’s Pakeezah, Dushyant Kumar’s Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai, Bhisham Sahni’s Amritsar Aa Gaya Hai, and others. With a keen eye, comfort in multiple languages, and dexterity with words, he elucidates the role of trains in these poems, movies and books — and, as a corollary, in our lives. He does this in a manner that reminds readers of what they have read, heard and seen about trains. Incidentally, I read this book at a time when Ramesh Sippy’s Sholay — a classic that begins with a train sequence — was re-released.

He is in his element when he walks us through the history of railways in our country; the book is part of the Essential India Editions. He tells us, quoting references, how the railways primarily came into existence to help the British strengthen their empire —“mobilisation of troops”, “construction of irrigation canals”, “improving internal communications” and “movement of raw materials like coal and cotton”. He also touches upon the impact of railways on changes in cropping patterns (and their consequences), and on Partition (and its memories).

It is when he talks about his own experiences on trains that he falters. When he conveys “the mad idea of taking the Himsagar Express”, or refers to the feeling in an air-conditioned apartment as “squalid claustrophobia”, or states that he prefers the inconvenience and discomfort of a toy-train journey to “the bland gifts of club level travel”, or is elated that “my journey is coming to an end”, readers wonder why he took up writing a book on railways at all. And when he compares a voluntarily undertaken rail journey, in an air-conditioned compartment, with the lives of women behind bars, one is not sure whether this is his sense of humour or a lack of sensitivity.

He also shares snippets from his notes from a while ago. Some of his observations — such as passengers humming when their destinations are near— take readers back to their own experiences with trains. When he describes seeing a train come to a halt only to enable passengers to board, I was reminded of encountering a similarly endearing moment while travelling on the Kangra Valley Railway. He uses trains to underscore societal changes over time but clearly appears out of depth when talking about the haves and the have-nots in society. And, for some reason, throughout the book—be it history, news or otherwise—he chooses to focus on the sad rather than the happy.

He is honest about his biases and prejudices and is direct. I was relieved that someone finally wrote that after all the cleaning in railway coaches, the trash is simply dumped out of the doors of running trains. He also reminds us, multiple times, that he is from Bihar and well-versed in its lingua franca. There appears to be little point, though, in the repeated references to the prime minister and right-wing-led actions. He quotes the likes of Paul Theroux. The quote that stood out for me, however, was by Malcolm Harper and Lalitha Iyer: “If you want to get away, to be free, to see life beyond the narrow confines of a small community, or merely to hide and disappear into the masses of India, you take the train.” He also has an interesting choice of words — mofussil, bastees, gamchha and rajya, among others. The book, though, despite all of this, has very little that is new or surprising.

I agree with the author when he says that railways are that rare factor unifying us, common to us all. I would add that they are perhaps the only microcosm that represents our country with all its colours, sounds and smells. Reading —and rereading — this book also taught me that perhaps writing about trains is, in some ways, like writing about love; chances are high that we would have experienced it differently.