On Track
Each photograph of our railway employees featured in British filmmaker Gerry Troyna's award-winning documentary, Bombay Railway, tells an incredible story. Together, they form a small piece of
the massive puzzle that is life in modern Mumbai

Bhalu Dukhari  who works at Thane railway station, with his family. Gerry Troyna points to one of his favourite photographs of Shankar, a runaway who works as a shoe-shine boy under Bhalu's supervision

As one time BBC employee, Gerry Troyna, leads us through his exhibition, Meri Rail, and introduces us to characters in his photographs, you know you'll never be able to look at another hawker or ticket-master without wondering what their story is.

A blend of Fagin and Bill Sykes: The picture of Bhalu Dukhari and his family holds the story of a run-away kid who landed at Thane station, and never found his way out. The station became his home, and then his workplace. And though Amitabh Bachchan did manage to put the word "cool" in Coolie, the reality at this station is somewhat different.

"One of life's natural-survivors," as Gerry dubs him, Bhalu's income comes from various enterprises, not excluding his daily hafta collections. He also helps runaways who find their way to the station, like he once did. He guides them, even pays for their education, whenever it's possible. 

Mama kehti hai bada nam kare ga: The heart-warming story of Lavinga is also part of the series. Look around the gallery  and you'll find her dressed in a sari, her hair in a bun, and a large-and-loaded, blue plastic bag by her feet. Lavinga sells saris on the train, at the risk of being arrested every single day. In the documentary, she says she's driven by the dream to give her child a better life. She wants her son to grow up and live in the world her customers live in.

"Every now and then, she is caught peddling her wares, and fined Rs 400," says Gerry, "But she thinks of that as an overhead, and carries on with her work as usual." It's one whole day's earnings for Lavinga.

Colourful characters: After that heart-wrenching lot, it's a relief to come across photographs of amusing characters like Raj Guru, a retired Chief Ticket Inspector, who dresses like Rajnikant and who, Gerry tells us, "would insist on singing while he worked. Passengers would beg him to stop. He genuinely believes he's good enough to do a bit of playback singing in Hindi films."

Vivek Srivastava, a small, plump man photographed with a big grin and a shiny red shirt, also hopes to find a seat aboard the Bollywood Bus. Once the Chief Public Relation Officer, Srivastava works at the India Tourism Development Corporation now, but his wife is still employed at the railways. Srivastava's CPRO wife and daughters feature in a separate picture at the exhibition.

And then there's Subhash Rai photographed in his bright, turned-around P-cap and the devil-horn gesture synonymous with rock. His dreams of being a rock singer were quashed after the demise of his railway employee father, since he had to take over his father's position. But he still plays the guitar. "He received several marriage proposals after he featured in my Monsoon Railway documentary," smiles Gerry.

At: Piramal Gallery, The National Centre For Performing Arts, Nariman Point. From 11 am to 7 pm. Till October 13.
Call: 66223737