Chennai's Coolies and their lasting load of luggage

As the chugging trains make their way to their destinations, the short-lived stillness of the station is stirred passengers ready themselves to board and deboard, blaring announcements echo across the station, horde of travellers amble through bridges connecting platforms. As soon as the screeching of the trains hushes, a bunch of red-shirt-clad men speed pace, cling to railings of the doors, and hop onto the coaches asking with shrilled voices, Coolie, Coolie? With each arrival and departure, these men with creased and sweat-stained shirts rush with their shoulders weighed down by bags and heads balancing stacked up suitcases. But this isnt a common sight now. Puratchi Thalaivar Dr. M.G. Ramachandran Central Railway Station, which used to be a hub for as many as 600 porters, has seen the numbers plummet to almost 200 now. A 37-year-old coolie, Purushothaman, says that this work of lugging bags and carrying them for passengers started during the time of the Britishers. With very little choice left, for decades, this work with meagre earnings has been passed down to the next generations due to compassionate appointment by the Railways. We are licensed porters, and not salaried employees, Purushothaman says, explaining how the license is only an entry pass for the stations. He joined this work 10 years ago, and like any other porter, he took over the work after his father passed away. As the sole breadwinner of the family, he only manages to earn `400-`500 a day, and sometimes, not even that. Munuswamy, who has been working since 2001, has only grievances to share. Clutching an empty handbarrow, he says that with the money he has been getting, he can only afford to send his kids to government schools. There are days when he has to go back home without a single penny, but after years of being acclimatised to this labour, finding another job seems like a futile attempt. What else do we do now? he asks. Purushothaman continues with hope for new opportunities with the Railways. He cites an example from 2009, before he joined this work. The Union Railway Minister then offered railway porters the jobs of gangmen (track maintainers). Many porters left for this government job, which also demanded rigorous manual labour. For some, this was a secure alternative; for others, the option didnt seem viable. Some couldnt meet criteria like passing a medical fitness test, producing a caste certificate, a valid license at a specific cut-off date, or an age limit. Venkatesan spells it out: Because of ailments and health conditions like BP, diabetes, and heart issues, this wasnt a job many could avail. And many were too old to even fill out the forms for the job. The work on the railway tracks also required the labourers to stay in remote areas. For people like Venkatesan, leaving their hometown wasnt a feasible option. Ajith Kumar, who has been trained under the One-year Act Apprentice Program for Southern Railway, is waiting for a job opportunity too, like Purushothaman. He says, Despite coming to the station at 3.30 in the morning, and heaving more than 50 kg of luggage, sometimes all I can make is `500, and on rare days, `1,000-1,500. As he heard a train rumble towards a parallel platform, he hurried to find the next set of passengers, saying, As people started using trolley bags, our job has been affected. Despite the dip in demand, the handful of coolies scattered sparsely on the platforms, concourse, the exit and entry gates, run around to get their daily wage. With a handbarrow, a 55-year-old Raghu and a 42-year-old Vijay Karthik eagerly surround a family and their baggage. They say that there are days when they have stayed in the station itself. Raghu, who first came to work as a coolie in 1987, says, On days when we earn `100 or `200, we can only afford to buy food for the day. We go to nearby messes or hotels for food. It isnt possible to pack up food from home either, especially when they start their day early. While they compromise their sleep and food, the rat race and the scanty amount they scramble to make each day dont compensate for their erratic routine. They brush aside their health issues amid this daily struggle to make ends meet. Raghu, for instance, says body pain is just a part and parcel of this work. Sometimes when the exhaustion is too much, I have no other option but to stay home, Ajith says. With no insurance, the only identity that the Railways has given them is a badge with their name and number inscribed, along with a couple of red shirts both of which are for passengers to identify and locate porters in case of loss of baggage. For the porters, theres nothing in it but an area to rest and a complimentary annual travel pass on sleeper or second class, rues Venkatesan.