Ravi was seven when he ran away from home, taking a trainfrom north India to the fabled metropolis of Mumbai. More than 25years later he is still at the platform, his life far from what he had in mindwhen he arrived- dealing with the dead as a way to make a living. Removingbodies from the city's creaking rail network, his is a gruesome task,but he is desperate enough to do it. Most are killed trying to cross thetracks. A few commit suicide or fall onto the rails; others are hit bytrackside poles as they hang out of overloaded trains. The bodies can be sobadly mutilated that it helps to get high first, explained Ravi.
"We sniff before we pick up the bodies, otherwise wewouldn't be able to do it," said the slight 35-year-old, who inhaled on atatty cloth doused in addictive cleaning fluid as he talked. Sitting in anempty train coach within the grand neo-Gothic CST station, Ravi said he sniffedthrough three small bottles of the fluid every day, meant for cleaning officeequipment.The men explained how they move victims from the tracks by stretcher,sometimes carrying them as far as a local hospital for inspection before theirfinal journey to the mortuary -aside from those still alive. "I used toget scared but now it's a kind of habit," Ravi said. In return, these"stretcher coolies" each get around 100 to 150 rupees.
Such arrangements exist in various parts of the country, in‘almost a symbiotic relationship’ between railway authorities and platformdwellers, said Mrinalini Rao, former head of the Railway Children charityin India. An official report in February estimated that almost 15,000 peopleare killed every year as they trespass unlawfullyon India's rail tracks, which lack proper safety and fencing - afigure the government described as a ‘massacre’. About 6,000 of the deathsoccur on Mumbai's suburban network alone, the report said, while the city'srailway police figures show more than 2,310 deaths on the tracks so far thisyear. The statistics show that willing body movers across the city are crucial.In return for their help, officials ‘turn a blind eye to youth on the railwaysand they get to live on the premises.
Resting on another platform was Harish, aged 20, who said heran away from home 14 years ago because his family beat him. He too now sleepsrough at the station and has been moving bodies for years. "We don't feelright living this way but now we're used to it," he said. "If we gotsome support to do better in life, we would leave."
