A farmer-activist is rallying forces to revive a 109-year-old narrow gauge train that until recently connected four districts of remote rural Vidarbha and served the region’s lower middle-class
On Republic Day, Vilhekar will be organising flag hoisting events at Shakuntala Express’ rail stations, followed by the singing of bhajans
A narrow gauge rail track in remote rural Vidarbha has turned into a rallying point for supporters of a heritage railway, which predates the British rule. A 64-year-old farmer-activist, Vijay Vilhekar, stands at the centre of the Satyagraha demanding the resumption of Shakuntala Express. His new year began with this resolution—to keep the train alive in public consciousness.
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On January 1, he celebrated the 109th birthday of Shakuntala rail engine at Murtijapur, where the spare parts lie in a shed. He has been part of similar celebrations throughout the month in 100-odd villages (one bordering Nanded in Marathwada), which fall on Shakuntala’s route, including his hometown Daryapur. In fact, the quaint little-known 28 railway stops—Lasina, Chamak and Kapustalni—have come to life because of the Revive Shakuntala movement.
This Republic Day, Vilhekar will be organising commemorative events at Shakuntala’s rail stations, which have been spruced up for a special flag hoisting, followed by chanting of freshly-written bhajans devoted to Shakuntala’s cultural legacy. Incidentally, Shakuntala Express has inspired two books—one by Vilhekar and another by a Delhi-based railway official.
Activist Vijay Vilhekar, 64, has been leading satyagraha meetings in 100-odd villages that fall on Shakuntala Express’ route, demanding resumption of its services
Vilhekar’s bhajan underlines the constitutionally-granted right to an affordable mode of transport. Shakuntala Express Railway, from its inception in 1913 till 2019, has been a preferred carrier for the lower middle-class population—predominantly adivasis/cotton growers of Vidarbha—residing around the 188 km-long track between Yavatmal and Achalpur. Vilhekar has childhood memories of his serpentine scenic commute from Daryapur to Anjangaon, where his elder sister was married off. “Farming families have lived off this train. Our crop was transported on the train top. Our brides were brought home by Shakuntala. Our collegians studied in her train compartments.”
The activist says there isn’t just sentimental value, but business sense in restarting the train. The Shakuntala rail network—tracks, platforms, bogeys, engines, technical knowhow—is in good shape. “Why kill an existing system and lobby for broad gauge costly projects, which are a burden on the economy in COVID times?” questions the Shakuntala fan, who feels keeping the narrow gauge route oiled will only help in later modernisation. He insists that Shakuntala become a perfect living Make-In-India example; it was bought over from the British company and run by Indian railway experts. In fact, he is in touch with retired employees who ran the narrow gauge train. He has also assisted research teams, which recently studied the condition of the ballast beneath the wooden ties. The tracks may need minimal repairs, but there has been no damage caused by the public in the interim period. Similarly, the seven river bridges on which the train travels, are also in a usable state. In order to clarify the ownership status of Shakuntala, Vilhekar is currently drafting a public interest petition in which he is assisting three sightless vendors, who earned a living by selling eatables on the Shakuntala route and are seeking legal clarity on the train’s resumption.
A follower of Babasaheb Ambedkar, Vilhekar is devoted to multiple causes for the upliftment of of underprivileged sections of the society
Vilhekar aggressively objects to Shakuntala’s engines being showcased as relics in railway exhibitions and vintage corners in Akola and Nagpur. “Why treat the engines like showpieces when they are functional? Isn’t that akin to converting a live person into a statue?” asks Vilhekar, as part of his Republic Day charter. “Republic means ‘gantantra’, which vests supreme power in the people. If that’s our accepted frame of reference, why can’t the villagers of Vidarbha reclaim an inexpensive rail transport?”
Shakuntala is Vilhekar’s current passion; his day and night hours are devoted to her resuscitation. But his life so far has always revolved around one cause or the other. He started out as the youngest in a household of five children. While the family belonged to the khatik (butcher) community, the father was a Gandhian follower, due to which he took to running a flour mill as against selling mutton. The father encouraged higher education and sent the youngest to Amravati around 1974—a time when socialist India was prepping for sampoorn kranti. As soon as young Vijay came in contact with the followers of Jayaprakash Narayan, he decided to leave college for the political agitations of the day. “We were asked to tear or burn our degree papers. I didn’t have one, so my work started immediately with the Yuva Sangharsh Vahini,” he recalls.
Thereafter, Vilhekar embraced a variety of underprivileged sections, be it the adivasis of Melghat or the rural poor students residing in government city hostels or the Mahua growers facing livelihood crises. He never wanted to marry, thanks to the sense of fulfillment from the wider connections. Once he rejected a prospective bride because of her fair skin colour. “As a spirited follower of Babasaheb Ambedkar, I fancied his dark skin. For my idealist mind, fairness was a sign of a British or upper class presence,” he jests, adding that he later married the girl, after his father threatened to die.
Around 1980, Vilhekar entered another obsessive phase. He joined the fiery foreign-returned farmer leader Sharad Joshi. In fact, he was active in all Shetkari Sanghatana agitations, road blockades, rallies led by Joshi. Vilhekar’s book Fakiriche Vaibhav is a grassroot worker’s biographical account of a movement for farmers’ economic independence. The title lives up to the fakir (monk) state of mind that Vilhekar espouses. Interestingly, he is most known for another character trait—he celebrates the birthdays of old trees, as a matter of respect for the environment.
At this point, Vilhekar is a super itinerant soul. He has been part of satyagraha meetings for Shakuntala’s life. His family of friends is growing, much beyond the railway’s periphery; the agitation has gained traction on prime time television channels. Vilhekar’s pro-Shakuntala slogans have resonated with railway passenger groups, including the associations in Mumbai. As Vilhekar says: Shakuntala is too precious to be neglected. It has, at different critical junctures, carried Mahatma Gandhi, Babasaheb Ambedkar and Gadge Baba.
Sumedha Raikar-Mhatre is a culture columnist in search of the sub-text. You can reach her at sumedha.raikar @mid-day.com