Honour the dead by ending stampedes at public places
After the horror of the night of February 15, 2025, should New Delhi Railway Station be locked for 40 years?
I vividly recall that day in 1982 when tragedy struck in the Qutb Minar. An excited party of schoolchildren was running down the winding stairs, someone stumbled, and there was a cascade of children. Since then, the Minar’s door has been locked, and we have been denied that spectacular view from the balcony of the first floor.
After the horror of the night of February 15, 2025, should New Delhi Railway Station be locked for 40 years? Newspaper reports have a weakness for the word “unprecedented”. But it is not appropriate for this incident – not many days ago, there was a precedent of a stampede at Prayagraj. That was at a ghat, this at a station full of people headed for that ghat. Slithery sand in the first, dysfunctional escalators and a lack of clear announcements in the second.
Another memory -- my great sense of anxiety on a December night in 1998, when at New Delhi Station a change in platforms was announced with 10 minutes for the arrival of the train, and I had to negotiate those terrible stairs with my poor husband who had a weak leg. Multiply that situation a hundred-fold, add “unreserved” tickets and lack of clarity of train names.
Do we deserve this? You can’t have it both ways -- boast to the world about the millions crowding Prayagraj but not be concerned when pilgrims (other than the privileged) suffer uncertainties, police indifference and even brutality, a response time of three hours. What is needed is anticipation, not response. When VIPs travel, are their needs responded to or anticipated?
There are so many questions: Should not there have been drills at the stations so that pilgrims had a trouble-free journey? Where are the volunteers of major organisations who should have organised passengers into lines? Where are the clear information boards (the announcements on the public address system are never easy to understand)? Where was the Disaster Response Force (DRF) which should have been on standby? (I have just learned that Delhi does not have its own DRF!) Traumatised passengers referred to lathi-wielding policemen -- it was not a pleasant thought.
Why are there no fire engines at the railway station, and why do they have to be called from Rani Jhansi Road, and be delayed by traffic?
The escalator failure is no surprise -- the surprise is when they do work. Maintenance of services has always been poor at stations, as on roads and public spaces, other than airports. Officials arriving hours later, and handing out wads of cash, sounded a strange procedure. All that money should have been invested in creating a secure and pleasant station.
We could do without the photographs of and cliche condolences by the powers-that-be and instead, bow to the real heroes. The porters who acted with efficiency and selflessness -- whose names this newspaper has given -- are the true “leaders”. We should salute them. Will they be given rewards for going beyond the call of duty?
The Maha Kumbh is much more than a “mela”; it is a pilgrimage. Parachuting to the Sangam by air is a meaningless shortcut, and as distasteful as being accommodated on the banks in ephemeral landscapes. Think of the grandeur of the journey, when crores of yatris packed into railway carriages become one people, bonding by sharing food and stories, united in anticipation. It is a challenge, a moment of glory for our railways which should be proudly celebrated and recounted for years to come. Tragically, the railways’ notion of celebration is to dazzle with information about speed and cost, and endless inaugurations.
Delhi will have a change of guard this week. We look forward to a sparkling Yamuna and clear drains. Could civilised railway stations be made another objective? Can we ask for an assurance that “unprecedented stampedes” will become a thing of the past?
Postscript: The railways minister has announced that stations will be provided “holding areas” for passengers. A leaf out of the imperial rulebook: When the Howrah-Kalka Mail (1UP/2Down) began to function in the late 19th century, passengers were locked off behind a grill and made to enter the train in an orderly line.
Narayani Gupta is a historian of Delhi.The views expressed are personal
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