Life for the 225 porters at the Pune Railway Station is no bed of roses. For them, survival depends entirely on physical strength. As a result, the sick and elderly barely manage to eke out a living. But those who are young and healthy manage to earn Rs. 100 or more in a day.
To prevent clashes, these coolies have divided themselves into two groups. Says 43-year-old Baburao Patil, head, All India Railway Licensed Porters’ Association, Pune Branch, “We don’t squabble over customers because we work in shifts. Coolies bearing badges from No. 1 to 63 work on the second-class side while those from 64 to 127 work for the first-class passengers”.
But despite this neat division of labour, many suffer from knee problems, headaches and sometimes leg fractures as there is no limit imposed on the weight of the luggage. Many a time, they carry as much as 70 to 80 kgs at a time as only 12 handcarts are provided by the Railways to carry excess luggage. This apart, the porters will get neither provident fund nor pension from the government. As for the Railways, “well, we get a red shirt, a red turban to cushion the luggage we carry on our heads and a licence badge from the Railways, for which we pay Rs. 5 a month,” says Patil. These porters also get a one-way railway pass to anywhere in the country but they want this concession to be extended to their entire family.
What about safety and security? “We get nothing, even if we die under the train! A young porter lost his leg under a train a few years back, and we hamals contributed Rs. 10 each and gave him some money,” remembers coolie Mahipati Chavan. Patil has now demanded group insurance for the association.Though most of these porters do not want their children to take up this profession, they never earn enough to educate their kids and are left only with this option. Obviously, there is tremendous competitiveness to retain this sole means of living. So new members are not allowed in, only the son or a relative can take over from the one who retires.
However, the porters’ biggest rivals are the unofficial porters residing in the slums near the station. “They are the local dadas and are more than 100 in number. They do jobs like holding a place in the train, polishing shoes and if nothing else, even beg. Many times, we are accused of theft because of them,” laments 30-year-old coolie Ramesh Dimble.
And yet, these men still find time for entertainment. This spare time is spent reading newspapers, smoking bidis and even resting. As far as lunch is concerned, they have it together in the small hamal rest room, sharing each others’ bread and problems.