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Riding the meter-gauge rails

Broad-gauge (left) and meter-gauge (right) trains at Jaipur Junction.

Broad-gauge (left) and meter-gauge (right) trains at Jaipur Junction.

When private British capital first started building railroads in India in the mid-nineteenth century, the lines were built in broad gauge. With a spacing between the rails of 5 ft 6 in, this was, and still is, the widest rail gauge in common use anywhere in the world. The colonial Government of India started to build their own rail lines in the 1870s. These public-sector railways were more cheaply built than their private counterparts, and they were made in meter gauge (3 ft 3 3/8 in).

Even after independence and the nationalization of the private railways, broad-gauge and meter-gauge lines continued to be developed in parallel with each other. Only in the 1990s did the Indian Railways start to convert meter-gauge lines to broad gauge, under Project Unigauge. Since then, large stretches of meter-gauge lines have been replaced by broad gauge.

Meter-gauge lines survive here and there. One such line runs between Jaipur Junction and Sikar, 107 km (66 mi) to the northwest. Meter gauge used to run all of the way to Churu, another fifty miles to the north, but that stretch has recently been closed for conversion to broad gauge. (The time table posted in Jaipur Junction station still says Churu on it, although the name has been whited out and replaced with Sikar.) Someday the Jaipur–Sikar line will also become broad gauge. But in the meantime, seven meter-gauge trains will continue to run back and forth between Jaipur and Sikar every day.

Since meter gauge won’t be around forever, I felt obliged to ride the Jaipur–Sikar train when I had the chance. A month ago, I rode one of these trains from Jaipur as far as Chomun, one-third of the way to Sikar. The meter-gauge tracks at Jaipur Junction station are on the north side of the broad-gauge lines, so the tracks don’t have to cross each other. I found a place where both gauges run side-by-side, showing the difference in size.

Comparison of meter gauge (left) and broad gauge (right).

Comparison of meter gauge (left) and broad gauge (right).

The meter-gauge train was smaller and, I dare say, cuter than the broad-gauge trains I am used to seeing. Inside, the coach was just wide enough for a bench seating four or five adults.

Meter-gauge locomotive of 52083 Jaipur-Sikar MG Pass train.

Meter-gauge locomotive of 52083 Jaipur-Sikar MG Pass train.

Meter-gauge luggage car.

Meter-gauge luggage car.

Panorama of a compartment in a meter-gauge train.

Panorama of a compartment in a meter-gauge train.

I sat in the coach just behind the diesel-electric locomotive, because that one was farthest along the platform and nobody else was in it at first. When the train left Jaipur station, only two other men were in my compartment. At the first stop, Dher ka Balaji, the compartment filled up. The train passed by Jaipur’s sprawl for a while, then it reached the open countryside. After several station stops that I didn’t see the name of, the train pulled into Chomun station, a nice little colonial Public Works Department structure.

The single platform of Chomun Samod station.

The single platform of Chomun Samod station.

Glimpse of the facade of Chomun Samod station.

Glimpse of the facade of Chomun Samod station.

At Chomun, my meter-gauge technological tourism came to an end. I returned to Jaipur by city bus.

Having ridden on a meter-gauge train, I can now appreciate how much the Indian Railways have changed since the days when the narrower gauge was more prevalent. The train I rode to Chomun just didn’t have the capacity of the much larger broad-gauge trains I have ridden in India.

Jugaad-spotting in eastern Rajasthan

A jugaad truck in a market town in Sawai Madhopur district, Rajasthan.

A jugaad truck in a market town in Sawai Madhopur district, Rajasthan.

The word “jugaad” has several meanings in the Hindi language. In some contexts, the word can mean informal or improvised repair of something. Another meaning of the word is the use of some object in a manner that the creators did not intend. When a mechanic uses shampoo in place of brake fluid, he is performing jugaad. When mustard oil cans are flattened out and shaped into the door of a hut, this too is jugaad.

In eastern Rajasthan and western Uttar Pradesh, “jugaad” has an additional definition: trucks that are produced by local craftsmen in village and town workshops, not in factories.

Jugaads do not have automobile engines. Instead, they use pumps, which were originally designed to draw water out of borewells to irrigate crops. The designers of the pumps did not intend for their products to be used in automobiles. But just as these pumps can draw water out of wells, they can also drive a vehicle.

I recently got the chance to take a close look at one of these pumps in its natural habitat, when I visited some friends’ village near the border of Rajasthan and Uttar Pradesh. My friends took me to their fields outside of the village and showed me their pump, which was situated in the corner of a wheatfield. The pump did not have a starter motor; it was started by a hand crank that was stashed under some bushes. Once the pump started running, it began to shoot out a stream of clear, cool ground-water. It also produced a foul-smelling cloud of diesel fumes.

In addition to the pump-engines, jugaads are made of other parts gathered from various sources, including wheels, a steering wheel, and a radiator. Jugaads usually do not have any headlights or signaling lights. They never have license plates or registration papers. Since they are unregistered, the government cannot collect taxes on them. But even though they are unregistered, the government is aware of them, and has made laws about them on a district by district basis. Unregistered vehicles are technically illegal, but several district governments have decided that since jugaads are important in the agrarian economy of the district, jugaad production and use shall continue unimpeded. In eastern Rajasthan’s Dausa, Karauli, and Sawai Madhopur districts, jugaads are a common sight. They are especially evident in towns where farmers use them to bring their crops to market.

In other districts, jugaads nowhere to be seen. I have heard that they were banned in Bharatpur district two or three years ago after a jugaad crashed into a school bus, killing several children. The district council then understandably decided to ban jugaads for safety reasons. Jugaads are also rare sights in Jaipur district, and I have never seen even a single jugaad in Jaipur city. A co-passenger on a bus from Bharatpur to Jaipur once told me that there are no jugaads in Jaipur because the city government has banned them since their pump-engines produce so much pollution. As interesting as I find jugaads, I am glad they are not in Jaipur. The city’s traffic is bad enough with all of its cars, trucks, buses, rickshaws, and especially motorcycles, not to mention bicycles and camel-carts.

(For a more detailed analysis of the multiple meanings of “jugaad,” please see my post “The Mystique of Jugaad.”)

A guide to research at the National Archives of India

The main campus of the National Archives of India (NAI) in New Delhi holds the major official records produced by the Government of India during the colonial and independence periods, as well as some records from the pre-colonial Hindu and Muslim kingdoms that ruled parts of India. If you study Indian history, a visit to NAI will be essential at some point during your academic career. A year ago, I had the opportunity to spend two months researching at NAI, jointly funded by the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations and my home institution, Auburn University. Getting registered and oriented at NAI took some time. The National Archives’ website has plenty of useful information, but there were some things I wish I had known as I was planning my visit. I have written this guide with hopes that that foreign scholars coming after me will find it useful for planning their research visits to NAI.

(Note: All prices listed in this guide are current as of March 2015.)

Orientation

The National Archives of India are located on the southwestern side of the intersection of Janpath and Dr. Rajendra Prasad Marg, just north of Rajpath in the heart of New Delhi. Like most official buildings in New Delhi, the Archives are located in a gated compound. The main gate is on Janpath; at the reception office to the right of the gate, researchers need to sign up for a free pass to enter the compound each day. There is also a back gate on Rajendra Prasad Marg.

There are two main buildings inside the compound, simply called the Old Building and the New Building. The Old Building, completed in 1926, was designed by Edwin Lutyens, who also created several of New Delhi’s most prominent monuments, including Rashtrapati Bhawan and the India Gate. The Old Building is an elegant structure with columns on the outside and chandeliers inside, although it has something of an airy, neglected feeling, with pigeons flitting around inside the hallways. Apart from visiting the cashier’s office on the ground floor, and idle curiosity, a researcher at NAI won’t have much reason to visit the Old Building.

The New Building, which is located at the end of the driveway leading in from the main gate, was built in 1991 in a plain post-independence style. It is where a researcher will spend most of his or her time. The reading room is located on the ground floor: take a left after the lobby, and then another left before the stairs. The NAI website says that researchers can keep their bags in lockers downstairs, but most people just stash their bags in a glassed-in area in the corner of the reading room. There are about twenty-five tables in the reading room. The room can get crowded in the afternoon, so be sure to get there in the morning before the rush.

The NAI compound also includes a park and an outbuilding with a canteen, where you can get some of the cheapest food anywhere in the city (Rs. 10 for a plate of daal or rajma and rice). I preferred to eat at a dhaba just outside the back gate on Rajendra Prasad Marg. The dhaba does brisk business every day selling veg thalis for Rs. 40. The cooks vary the menu from day to day so it doesn’t get boring.

Getting there

The best way to reach NAI is by the Delhi Metro. From the Central Secretariat station on the yellow and violet lines, it is an easy seven-minute walk to the NAI front gate. Use Gate 2 to exit the metro station. From there it is a straight shot along Rajendra Prasad Marg, past Krishi Bhawan and Shastri Bhawan, two large government office buildings.

Access requirements

Anybody can get a daily pass to enter the NAI compound, but in order to actually request records, you need to fulfill further registration requirements. For foreign nationals, NAI requires the following documents: 1) a notarized form from the diplomatic mission of your country in India, 2) a letter of introduction from your home institution, 3) a copy of the photo page of your passport, and 4) a copy of your visa. (A tourist visa is acceptable provided you aren’t doing fieldwork.) Gathering these documents can take some time, so be sure to plan ahead.

[Addendum from 2019: A reader has informed me that NAI has an additional access requirement – proof of permanent address. This reader was able to use a driver’s license, but the regulation was enough to foil other would-be researchers.]

If you are a citizen of the USA, you can get the form through an appointment with American Citizen Services, which you can sign up for by calling +91 011 2419-8000 or using an online form. American Citizen Services are accessible by appointment only. The requirements for citizens of other nations are probably similar; just check your Embassy’s website.

The US Embassy, along with the embassies of most other nations, is in Chanakyapuri, a post-independence southern addition to the plan of New Delhi. Chanakyapuri is not accessible by the Delhi Metro. To get there, an autorickshaw is probably your best bet, starting at either the Race Course or Dhaula Kuan metro stations. The entrance is on the southwest corner of the Embassy compound (just look for the crowds of people). Security regulations for the Embassy are very strict, but if you have a proscribed item such as a mobile phone, you can check it at an unofficial counter across the street (next to where more people are waiting on benches) for Rs. 50 an item. The Embassy letter (actually a notarized form) costs $50 or the current equivalent in rupees.

For the letter of introduction, a printout of a scan is acceptable, although I recommend getting an original copy before you leave your home institution.

Once you have all of your documents in order, present them in the reading room and fill out a form that they give you. Then you will be permitted to start requisitioning records right away. The NAI website mentions a researcher card, but this seems to be a metaphor, because I didn’t receive any physical confirmation that I had registered.

Requisitioning records

Like every other archives I have been to, NAI is closed-stacks, and to access records you must fill out a requisition slip and wait for the staff to gather the requested records for you. Records are pulled at three set times during the day: 10 AM, 12:30 PM, and 3 PM. It takes about two-and-a-half hours for staff to fulfill a request. NAI has a computerized records catalog, which is accessible within the research room but not through the NAI website. Once you have filled out your request forms, place them in the box at the requisition counter. Archives staff do not need to sign off on your requests. Researchers are allowed to submit ten requisition slips per pull time, for a total of thirty a day.

When the staff have retrieved your requested records, they will place them on shelves behind the requisition desk. You can go behind the desk yourself to pick them up. Sign on the form that comes with them and deposit the form in another box at the requisition desk. Now you are ready to start your research at NAI.

At the end of the day, records do not have to be checked in behind the requisition desk. If you are done with them, return them at the records counter. If you want to keep looking at them later, place them on the hold shelf against the wall below the A/C units. Tuck a paper into your stack of records with your name and the date you will be done with your documents. The NAI website says that you shouldn’t hold records for more than a week. A sign in the reading room puts the limit at a month. In practice, scholars can hold their records for several months.

Copying records

Use of cameras or scanners (including mobile phone cameras) is against research room policy. This rule is strictly enforced. To get copies of records, you have to order them from NAI’s service, on a fee basis. The rate for plain paper copies is Rs. 6 a page. The catch is that NAI imposes a limit of one copy order per researcher per month, with a maximum of 500 pages each. Plan carefully.

Placing and picking up a copy order is a complicated process, and it took a long time for me to figure it out the first time. Place a copy order by following these nine steps:

Step 1: Mark pages that you want to copy with paper strips supplied in the research room.

Step 2: Fill out the two copy request forms in duplicate.

Step 3: Ask the research room manager to calculate the bill amount. For plain paper copies, the bill will be Rs. 6 per page plus an additional Rs. 125 search fee.

Step 4: Deposit the advance fee with the cashier. In the morning, go the the Nehru Room in the New Building; in the afternoon, go to the cashier in the Old Building.

Step 5: Turn in your complete copy order to the research room manager.

Step 6: Go back to the copy room behind the research room and schedule a time to pick up your copy order. (This was a step that I missed the first time around, so my copy order took far longer than it should have.)

On the scheduled day:

Step 7: Return to the copy room. The copy room manager will ask you to fill out another form.

Step 8: Take this form to the cashier to settle the account.

Step 9: Lastly, return to the copy room and supply the final receipt along with a photo ID. After the manager has run off a copy of these two documents, he will send you on your way with your completed order.

Conclusion

I found the two months I spent researching at the National Archives of India to be immensely rewarding, on a personal and academic level. I hope that I will get to use the archives again in the future. If you found this guide helpful, or if you notice that any information needs updating, please leave a comment below.

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