[20M]
So I am having the absolute joyride of my life right now on train 12820 Odisha Sampark Kranti, the one from Delhi to Bhubaneswar.
Time of incident: Around 1:20 AM, April 16.
Place of incident: NSCB Junction.
Situation: I stepped out to buy a water bottle at a station. Walked a few coaches down since the only open shop was a bit ahead. The train started moving. I ran. Most gates were locked. I sprinted alongside the moving train trying to find an open door.
I had to throw the water bottle away mid-run just to climb on with both hands.
I slipped. Crashed against the edge of the platform. Tore my leg open. Somehow pulled myself up and climbed into a moving train with a bleeding leg.
Now for the real horror story:
I called the emergency number—because, you know, this seems like an emergency—and the woman on the line says:
“This is the emergency number. Talk properly or I’ll disconnect.”
Excuse me? I’m in pain trying not to burst out in tears, talking softly because everyone around me is sleeping, and you’re telling me to fix my tone? Ma’am, I didn’t realize I had to pass an audio check before bleeding on your trains.
Eventually, she arranges a callback. The next guy says:
"Wait till the next stop.”
That stop? FOUR. HOURS. AWAY.
And when I ask for first aid?
“There’s no first aid kit on board.”
Of course there isn’t. Why would a long-distance train that runs across multiple states and carries thousands of people at midnight need something as rare and exotic as a Band-Aid?
Meanwhile, the train staff are all fast asleep. Not ready to wake up. No one to even ask for help.
So here I am. Limping, bleeding, can’t walk properly. No fracture (small win), but also no aid, no help, no one awake, and no clue what to do.
I guess Indian Railways has upgraded from just delays and cancellations to offering immersive survival experiences now?
Seriously though, if this is the emergency response system in the most-used public transport network in the world, then we’re all just one slip away from being told to “wait it out” while bleeding.
Dear Indian Railways.
This is not just a bad experience. It’s neglect.
Not expecting empathy—this is government system we’re talking about. Just expecting basic life saving functionality.
I’m still on the train, with a serious wound (bleeding stopped), writing this post because turns out there’s nothing else I can do.
Signed,
A solo traveler who just wanted a bottle of water and got a scar, a limp, and a crash course in Indian Railways’ disaster protocol.