Lineman Yogendra Mali’s life is all about timing. At precisely 1:36 pm, the phone rings inside the ‘goomti’ (level-crossing) and he rushes to take the call. “Ji, ji,” he says into the receiver and rushes out, clutching a red and a green flag. He works the archaic but well-oiled lever to pull down the level-crossing gate which he locks lest desperate motorists try to sneak past.
The train’s shrill whistle can be heard not very far at a bend behind an upraised mound of earth, as it trundles to the ageing bridge on river Kamla-Balan in Jhanjharpur, off National Highway 57 connecting Madhubani and Purnea in Bihar’s north-eastern corner.
Mali quickens his pace and walks halfway down the bridge where he meets his colleague from the other end. They exchange two large keys and quickly inquire of each other – “sab thik ba?” (all okay?). Mali turns around, returns to his goomti and gathers his twin flags. The train’s hulking, swaying diesel engine is now visible as the earth beneath our feet shakes.
He stands by the lever, sense of duty writ large on his face, and waits for the train to pass over the narrow gauge tracks (three feet, three inches apart) that arrow over the 195-metre bridge which provides passage to both motorists and rail travellers – a strange but quaint relic of the Indian Railways.
Shifting Loyalties
Mali joined the Railways as a gangman in 1974 when his monthly take-home salary was just Rs 105. “Because of my caste (gardener), I was later drafted to tend to flower beds at various stations across Bihar. Years later, one station master offered me the job of manning a goomti and since then I have been a lineman,” Mali recalled, scratching his forehead with calloused fingers. After over 40 years in service, Mali’s monthly take-home is a respectable Rs 30,000. He retires exactly a year from now.
Inside the goomti are more relics: a small telephone with a winding lever, two worn-out electric telegraph transmitters that are no longer in use since the Central government wound up the department in 2013, a couple of railroad lanterns – one emits red and the other green light – and an upraised wooden bench which Mali uses to take a nap when there are no trains to flag pass.
Jhanjharpur Assembly constituency in Madhubani district has been a JD(U) stronghold for the past 10 years. Earlier, the seat belonged to the RJD. But this time around, Jhanjharpur legislator Nitish Mishra, son of the late Bihar chief minister and Congress leader Jagannath Mishra, has switched loyalty to the BJP.
Untouched by Development
In the last Assembly election in 2010, Mali was posted elsewhere in Bihar. So he could not vote. Now back in his hometown – a mosquito-infested, disease-ridden, wretched backwater – where he is a registered voter, he must decide which party to vote for. Polling in Bihar’s Seemanchal, of which Madhubani is a part, is scheduled for November 5.
“Ab dekhat ka hoyil (let’s see what happens),” Mali said, still undecided whether to vote for “dal badlu (party hopper) Nitish Mishra or a candidate of his or closer to his caste identity. “As you can see, nothing much has happened in Jhanjharpur in terms of development,” Mali, who has seen five railway ministers – Lalit Narayan Mishra, Kedar Pandey, Ramvilas Paswan, Lalu Prasad and Nitish Kumar – in his long career, lamented.
“Till recently the bridge was in a dangerous condition. Repair work was carried out in 2013. A separate bridge for the passage of trains is being built but who knows when it will be functional. As of now this one is a lifeline for the people here and elsewhere, and it must be kept in good condition even after I retire,” Mali said, betraying his deep attachment to his employer.