Chuk-chuk gaadi

Let's meld down memory lane for a second week running, though I promise I shall resurface in quick time and encapsulate the stark reality that confronts us today. Any flight of fancy into our childhood touches chords which are distinct and remind us of all that is changing. I have seen this change make many of my fellow men and women bellow and rebel, given the fragility of our times. Rebel I shan't and bellow I won't, for either of these may get me into trouble in these frail times. Things haven't taken a turn for the better, though most of my lineage agree, albeit clandestinely.

Anyway, as the headline suggests, let's go chuk-chuk for a mite. Throughout my childhood, our summers were spent in Dhanbad, where I was born and where my maternal grandparents lived. When I was born, coal town Dhanbad was in Bihar. Today, it is in Jharkhand, thanks to the splintering that our nation has witnessed over the years into more and more states, for reasons good and bad. Back to trains, my childhood lifeline… Paradoxical this is because through my time in South Delhi each schooling year, I would just not attend school and would bunk classes for months and years, walking mile after mile along railway tracks each day, with my faithful bicycle in tow. I would return home and pretend that I had a good learning day – it is a wonder even to me that I know enough English to write these columns.

But anything that moves on rails mesmerized me. Simply watching or traveling by train had a strange power over me, one that morphed time and blitzed distances. What would otherwise have seemed like an eternity in the real world passed effortlessly after I boarded a railway car. I would hypnotically watch the parallel track run past at seemingly interminable speeds and my little brain would ponder how and what people built this infrastructure without any real machine power. What were they made of and what mettle did they have? Paradoxically, the corollary to this thought is just how feeble we are today, flagellated and near impotent to manage India's dwindling resources.

A real marvel this is

Four decades back, as I munched on a 'samosa' or sipped from a cup of tea from a 'mitti ka kullad' (earthen cup) at Mughalsarai Junction on my way to Dhanbad, I would pride myself on being in the longest railway platform in the world. Just shy of an hour later, as I crossed the very, very long Dehri-on-Sone railway bridge, I would dangle my legs out of an open coach door and look at the water way down below. My parents allowed me this privilege, for they understood my madness for everything rail, trusting me to be sensible.

Reaching Dhanbad just some hours later, I would embrace my grandparents and do the family shenanigans. But unwittingly, I would return to the local railway station some seven kilometers away, just to take in the acrid smell of burning coal, hear the repeated hiss of steam and the haunting toot-toot of steam engines. It was heaven. And I just couldn't wait to get back to Delhi – back to my Safdarjung-to-Dhaula Kuan railway tracks and my walking, again ducking school. Who needed school?

I had the greatest teachers. Alistair Maclean, Desmond Bagley, Duncan Kyle, Robert Ludlum and even Enid Blyton kept me going and introduced me to a mesmerizing new world, one that few of my brethren experienced, as they deep-dove into physics, history and mathematics. Me, I had my different set of books, my rail tracks and my duffel bag with my mommy-packed lunch. A 100 other authors from my 25-paisa-per-day library provided me an education that I lust for even today. Sure, my parents were summoned to school by a strict principal every other month, but she (Mrs Khanna, a kind soul) would eventually relent because I did extremely well at the exams, generally coming in first (those results intrigued little me all the time!). I was a rogue, uncontrollable. I hated school. I loved trains.

Fast-forward to today

And here we are today, in the new reality of India 2021. As promised, I shall now speak that which is oft-unspoken. My rail fantasies are being torn apart. As are my petroleum companies, insurance giants and historical agricultural edifices large and small, which are all suddenly on the block. You want more? We also have airlines, airports, fertilizer companies and banks going under the hammer. As is the Indian Railways and most of its lucrative assets (including my beloved Dhanbad steam trains!). This doesn't make any sense to me.

It I talk our railroads alone, we have been repeatedly told by our superpowers that we shall not auction off our history, but we are quietly attempting to capitalize on the tracts of land assets attached to that very institution. Do remember that in a country of nearly 1.4 billion, the Indian Railways plays an integral role, running the fourth-largest rail network in the world, across 64,000 route kilometers, ferrying nearly 2.3 crore passengers per day in over 13,000 passenger trains. With a workforce of nearly 1.3 million, it is also one of the largest employers in the world.

Today, confronted with lost revenues and a perilous economy, the authorities are mulling ways of generating monies through all possible low-hanging avenues, including the non-fare revenue segment, vast pools of captive land and even Public Private Partnership for our trains and stations. Private investment is also being brought in to upgrade facilities and infrastructure, especially as troubled airlines lower fares to lure in AC-class train passengers and target those opting to travel by road for shorter distances.

And yes, we already have private trains running on our tracks laid out over a 100 years ago, ergo modernized over time. Undeniably, we are quietly selling off assets to keep India going chuk-chuk, even as our Railways and many other sectors stop being state-owned.

Will my chuk-chuk die?

Clearly, what I grew up with is slowly getting irradiated by a f(a)orce worse than plutonium, one that is eating into the pillars of our financial obduracy. My chuk-chuk is not the only thing that is all but done and dusted; the very innards that kept India's economic citadel upright are being threatened. Today, we stand at a cusp and need to stave off an impending national selloff, one that will take away from our history and pride. Legacies need to be passed on to future generations – the death of the chuk-chuk will be just another sign that a whole lot is going wrong.

Decades back, I walked along Delhi's local rail tracks as trains carrying people and goods screamed past me. That legacy is being stripped bare, as is a lot else. As Indians now, we are also said to be snooping into private conversations and meddling into the lives of simple and innocent civilians. Look at the other symptoms. Just last week, I wrote about destroyed childhoods and a failing education system in today's changed times. A week before that, I cribbed about broken homes and missing children, teenage girls and boys. A week further before, I talked of one woman taking on the might of the most powerful people in this nation and casting them aside like nine-pins in the state elections Go back one more week, and I spoke of farmers squatting on our borders seeking just any honest ear to hear their story.

The answer is staring us in the face – we need change, along with staying power, determination and the mental agility to get our nation out of the mess we find ourselves in on almost all fronts.

How will that happen?

Quite simply, by doing two things… One, we need bricks, to rebuild our social, cultural, moral and economic fabric and put together a resurgent India again. Two, we need to get away from petty politicking and move on to the things that really build a 'rashtra'. We need to get buying power into the hands of the not-so-well-off Indians. We need to provide employment to as many as we can. At last count, the Government at the Center had 8 lakh vacancies that needed to be filled. Fill them, for God knows that we have enough people lining the streets and alleys for even the most menial of jobs. Add state government vacancies to this list and a lot of people will live with dignity again.

Prod and prick the economic machinery along. Unveil relief measures and packages that really make a difference, and transparently and visibly implement them. There are many, many Corporates who have grown exponentially over the last terrible 18 months. Tax them – make them nation-builders and give them due credit for making a difference in trying times. Resolve the burning issues that can be easily resolved; like the farmers' stir, insensitive fuel and edible oil prices, identify means to re-invigorate the education imbroglio, intensify the vaccination drive, cut back on senseless political and religious gatherings in the name of elections and God…

There's much that can be done. And it needs to be, quickly. The average Indian is becoming unbelieving, cynical, contemptuous… We are not in a good place. We need to move quickly to correct this, because time is running out.

The writer is a communications consultant and a clinical analyst. narayanrajeev2006@gmail.com. Views expressed are personal