Mumbai: Welcome to Mumbai, where every morning millions board the local train network with a prayer and a death wish. On Monday, the city’s most dependable slaughter machine claimed four more lives (and still counting) —commuters flung off overcrowded coaches, their backpacks brushing fatally against each other near Mumbra. One of the dead was a GRP constable.
Irony? Not in Mumbai. Here, even those meant to protect end up as casualties of criminal apathy. And right on cue, the government woke up—like it always does—after the corpses were cleared off the tracks. Enter the Railway Minister and his band of grim-faced bureaucrats. They huddled in “urgent” meetings with the Integral Coach Factory in Chennai, because apparently, the solution to decades of negligence requires one more brainstorming session. Their brainwave?
Automatic doors. Bravo. Yes, automatic doors on non-AC local trains—a genius idea tested and failed ten years ago due to, you guessed it, suffocation. But this time will be different, they swear. Why? Because now the doors will have louvers (fancy slots to let in air), roof-mounted ventilators (because a bakery-style exhaust system will definitely cool a tin box carrying 5,000 people), and vestibules (so we can shuffle around and die more democratically).
The prototype is promised by November 2025—just in time for the next accident. After testing and paperwork, maybe it’ll be on the tracks by January 2026. Until then, dear commuter, cling harder. Meanwhile, Maharashtra’s state government did what it does best: threw ₹5 lakh at the dead. Consider it hush money, not compensation. One can only imagine the condolence template is pre-typed by now: “We deeply regret... ₹5 lakh... safety is our priority... investigation underway.”
Speaking of investigations, the Central Railway's top safety honcho will now "probe" the obvious: overcrowded trains with no doors, no space, and no dignity are lethal. This fact must have been hiding behind a pile of pending reports and cold samosas at Rail Bhavan. Mumbai locals ferry 75 lakh people daily on 3,200 trains. But to call this a lifeline is an insult— it’s a roulette wheel running on rusted tracks and recycled grief. So rest easy, Mumbai. Your ministers are designing doors while your neighbours are dying through them. And so the cycle continues: tragedy, outrage, committee, vague solution, press release, another tragedy. Mumbai’s trains have been killing people for decades. Now, with luck and louvres, maybe they’ll just injure us more politely
