Shortly after I occupied my seat in the superfast train’s chair car, one of the pantry car attendants placed a 1.5 litre plastic bottle of cold water in front of me. It does not come for free. Its cost is included in the fare. If you need more, you have to pay for it on the spot.
For all my co-passengers, it was like any other day of travel in such premium trains — a mechanical process of delivering the life-sustaining elixir. But as I reclined on my seat, I became nostalgic. What a great change it has been since my younger days! From liberal, free-of-charge supply of drinking water by the Railways to availability of heavily priced, potable as well as non-potable, one today.
I reminisced how standing at the edge of the railway platform, the railway water man looked at the coming train which was still miles away. Then he would move his wooden push cart on which were placed two jumbo-sized earthen pitchers filled with drinking water, which undoubtedly used to be pure and harmless. He used to move from the coach next to the engine in the reverse direction chanting “paani, paani” (water, water). Another cartman would move in the opposite direction, starting from the last bogie. That way, they would cover the entire length of the train. Windows had no bars those days so, during rush hours, people used the window route to enter a bogie even with their big tin boxes and other luggage, and exit as well!
In between, some one would push out some utensils, even a modest tumbler to collect whatever quantity of water he could manage. If he needed more, he would have to wait for the other waterman or till the next station with the water facility. Plastic had not been evolved and so there were no plastic utensils. Stainless steel was also not known. Some passengers carried vessels made of brass, German silver normally used to carry milk.
This primitive mode of water supply by the Indian Railways continued for several years. I was reminded of it by the severe heat wave that had been sweeping northern India with temperatures hovering around 47 degree Celsius, raising a clamour for drinking water everywhere.
Later, many people went for water bags made of canvass used by the armed forces and people travelling through deserts. They met the travelling public’s needs to some extent, but it was not a happy proposition. I remember dangling one such canvass bag outside the window of our coach to meet any emergency requirement of our little daughter.
In the ensuing years, Railways pushed out the push carts and installed clusters of water taps at strategic points on the platforms. Occasionally, some young man defying his wife’s impassioned plea would venture out to fetch some water for their thirsty children. Or on some occasions, some noble soul waiting on the platform would fetch it for them. These kiosks of water taps were inscribed with clear instructions that these were meant for supply of ‘drinking water only’. However, in keeping with an unfortunate trend, these were used for washing and often turned into spittoons.
Nevertheless, these structures continued to provide lame-duck services.
No option being available, often a passenger trying to fill up his vessel there would find the train chugging out before his eyes, leaving him high and dry on the platform. That used to create untold miseries for the family on the train — all because there was no arrangement for supply of water on the running train. With growing awareness, needs and changing lifestyles, the travelling public demanded refrigerated water. The Railways rose to the occasion. Arrangements were made for the availability of cold water to the passengers, mainly at important stations. However, the system fell short of the requirements and got crippled under the weight of huge demand. By this time, plastic wares and plastic ‘cool jugs’ that had come in vogue proved to be of great help to the sophisticated traveller.
Mercifully, a time came when we suddenly witnessed what may be described as the “mineral water revolution”. Packed in plastic bottles of all sizes, they elbowed out cool jugs and other water carriers. Today, it is plastic bottles all the way and everywhere. So much so, sealed bottles began to be placed on the desks at conferences and conventions where water-filled glasses used to be seen earlier.
These bottles are invariably supplied by the Railways to passengers in premium coaches for a charge. Others can buy them from hawkers who carry loads of them in buckets chanting “paani, paani” — the same old way.
Mineral water bottles have now become part and parcel of our lives. Makers of shoulder or piggy-back bags have created in them a pouch for carrying a 1.5-litre bottle.
Today, Dad, Mom, Sunny and Sonia make it a point to carry their bottles of mineral water in their office or school kit.
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
