Stuttgart

Sukhada Tatke discovers Stuttgart on foot and claims to have walked more than probably all of last year. Otherwise there seem to be a few more differences between the German and Indian public transport system.

I am quite amazed at the amount of walking people do in Stuttgart. They don't walk just for leisure and aimlessly, but actually use their feet to travel from one destination to another. The wheel that was invented to give rest to the feet may feel redundant in this city of Stuttgart. It's not that people don't walk in Mumbai, it's just that there is no space for pedestrians in the city: pavements are encroached upon, roads are dug up and constant rush of vehicles obstructs the path. It is almost as if a pedestrian is forced to surrender to the blaring horns if she or he happens to come in the way and buckle under the pressure of speeding cars. Quite contrary to what happens in Stuttgart: here the cars actually come to a halt on seeing someone cross the street.

But actually in Mumbai, most people are always in a hurry to reach somewhere on time, and so, prefer hopping into either a rickshaw or a taxi that will take them to the destination. Those are the lucky ones, in fact. Others who cannot afford such luxuries are forced to travel in over-crowded buses and trains, where gaining just enough space for merely placing one's foot is a Herculean task. Otherwise, walks for most people are restricted to their building complexes, or if fortunate, a small park nearby. People have been protesting to create streets that are friendly to pedestrians, but nothing much has come of it.

In Stuttgart, apart from seeing people walking to and fro, the sight of so many people cycling or skating warms my heart. That this is not just limited to youngsters and a certain type of people makes it all the better. All kinds of people are seen to be cycling- I amuse myself looking at them: some of them slouch on their seats, gazing forward and cycling with a purpose, others walk more and the cycle alongside serves as a companion to them. The best are the ones whose cycling lends a different meaning to the activity altogether: the cycle sometimes doubles up as a baby-sitter and sometimes as a vegetable stand. The sturdy and the more confident cycle manages to do all this, apart from doing justice to the actual rider.

The skaters seem to be in their own world. The ones roller blading exude a certain kind of confidence which makes me and my legs feel rather inferior. For one, I don't understand why one would deliberately make life difficult for herself or himself. I don't understand what pleasure one gets from putting tiny wheels in a straight line under one's relatively larger feet. But I do understand that I am writing this out of immense envy towards those extremely talented skaters. Now, if roller blading seems so difficult to me, I can't even explain how my heart beats when I see kids on skate boards. The ease with which they zoom past streets makes me watch them with admiration.

Amid all this, private vehicles carry on in an organised manner. Most of the drivers follow the rules and regulations to the tee. Signals are not broken, brakes are hit before zebra crossings and speed limits are largely not exceeded. In Mumbai, travelling on the road is chaotic and time-consuming at best, and frustrating and impossible at worst. Driving down the Bundesautobahn and the Autobahn here was quite an experience since I have never been in a car driving at such great speeds. I find it surprising that there are no speed limits on the Autobahn!

I can't held but admire the efficiency of public transport in Stuttgart. Trains, trams and buses run on time and are convenient to hop on to and off from. Detailed maps and signboards help tourists, but not in the beginning. Initially, the train system here seemed a little complicated to me with so many train lines of different colours zigzagging on numerous boards and paper maps. I come from a city that largely functions on asking people which train goes where, when the next train is and so on. But I finally had the Eureka moment one day while on my way to the Rathaus from Marienplatz. That's when I realised that it is actually easy to read the signs and choose the train by following the coloured lines. Whether it is the U-Bahn or the S-Bahn, those dotte lines emerge as saviours for first-time travellers.

Everything about the trains here is different from the trains back home. In fact, since people spend a major part of their daily lives travelling, trains in Mumbai become people' s second homes and the fellow travellers, their families. The trains in my city are noisy, crowded and smelly, here, they are quiet, empty and perfume smells fill the air. Here, they arrive on time and depart on time and a moment's delay causes people at the station to get restless and murmur "the train is late today". In Mumbai, thousands of people block the railway lines in protest against perpetual delays anywhere between half an hour to an hour. These delays actually affect people's means to livelihood.

But here, people are busy doing their own things, most of them have ear-phones plugged into their ears, some are dozing off, while couples use the time to get cosy. In Mumbai, they fight, shout, chop vegetables, sing in groups and form longlasting bonds. Here, the windows are shut, the trains are underground and one feels cut off from the life outside. There, windows are wide open and one can feel the cold breeze brush against one's hair or the raindrops splash across one's face.

Stuttgart trains have plenty of room, and if there are about three and a half people standing, travellers think the trains are crowded. Compare this to a city where more than 600,000 people travel by train everyday. If the figure sounds familiar, it is because that is the entire population of Stuttgart. On an average, 14 out of them die daily before their journey ends. A stronger and better public transport is the need of the hour in Mumbai and plans are on for creating a Metro project. However, despite all the problems, the trains continue to function. It is little wonder then that Mumbai's trains are called the city's "lifeline".