“..Three rail accidents, 21 dead in two months..” 31^st July, Times of India.  

In a second- class compartment somewhere in India a grandmother looked out of a train window with fear in her eyes. “Once upon a time,” she said as she looked down at her two little grandchildren, “train travel was safe!”

“Grandma,” said both the children together, “you told us never ever to lie, didn’t you?”

“At every station,” continued their grandma, “passengers used to get down and stretch their legs.”

“Stretch their legs!” cried out the elder of the two children. “You mean their limbs were still part of their body? They were not cut off in accidents? Grandmother, this is a fairy-tale, isn’t it?”

“People used to take out their pack of cards and play!”

“Didn’t they keep a watch at the window? Didn’t they always look to see if the engine was still attached and hadn’t fallen off?”

 “We even shared our food with each other,” continued the grandmother nostalgically.

“Didn’t you keep it for later grandmother, when you would need it at some remote place where you would be lying with dead people around, and bogies piled on each other?”

“Some of the people used to retire to bed early,” said the old lady, “We climbed up onto our berths and within minutes were in the land of nod, gently rocked by the swaying of the train!”

“Grandma?” cried both the children together.

“What is it my dears?” asked the old lady wearily.

“You’re making it all up aren’t you?” shouted the children.

“No!” whispered the grandmother, “Once upon a time, rail travel was safe.”

“You lie!” shouted both the children angrily together.

“Signals were checked,” said the old lady softly. “Lines were inspected. Tax money was spent on safety!”

“Isn’t safety important anymore?” whispered the two children fearfully.

“No,” said the old lady sadly, “Not as important as showing off fast trains and fancy bullet trains!”

“But the money for those new lines, those bullet trains, shouldn’t they be spent on safety instead?” asked the elder of the little children shrilly.

The grandmother nodded sadly, “And if there was an accident, the minister in charge took the blame and resigned immediately!” She then looked out of the window fearfully.

The other passengers in the same compartment also looked out, afraid. A woman held prayer beads and chanted her prayers incessantly, forgetting lines as she stared at a young man standing at the door, ready to jump, if the train derailed, hit another train, fell into the river or just fell apart!

The two children looked up fearfully at their grandmother and screamed as the train suddenly rocked, rolled and rose like a plane. “Once upon a time,’ she whispered before blacking out, “train travel was safe…!”

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