The Commuter-Ride Home

By: Tunku Mariati Tunku Mukhtar


Following Pak Lah’s ride in the LRT many moons ago, one would think there would be some degree of improvement in the public transport system but lo and behold..... On the fateful date of 15 October 2008, I decided to take the commuter train back from the Bank Negara stop to the Bangi stop. It was 5.30 in the evening and the horror began. It was raining cats and dogs and elephants and cows! Wisdom of a friend – she advised me against walking to the station but offered to give me a lift instead. I’m glad I took her advice.

As I rushed down from the ticket counter to the platform below, the usual crowd had already gathered at the platform waiting for the commuter train to arrive. I was appreciative of the new complex, a vast improvement from the straight row of shelter of days gone by. The rain showed no sign of abating. Water from the roof gutter was gushing out from the pipes defying the rule that it was supposed to flow into the drain below but instead hit hard against the wall across the drain and deflecting back onto the platform, flooding the floor immediately after the landing as you step down the stairs from the ground floor. It is a wonder no one actually slipped and fell.

The train to Seremban was scheduled to arrive at 5.44pm as displayed in the electronic board overhead. However, like the act of amateur magician, it was the train to Pelabuhan Klang that showed up. After a delay of about 20 minutes, there were a few announcements indicating that the train to Seremban would be arriving soon, and thankfully it did. However, by then, there was no seats left – just standing space, and stood I did, hoping to grab a seat when a passenger goes off at the next station. Oh, how true the wise words, when all else fails, hope is all you have!!!

It was a ten stop ride to Bangi and just when you thought there would be some relief at the next stop as the passengers alight, the plot thickens, literally – it certainly got denser as more people kept getting on than getting off. When the train arrived at the Kuala Lumpur station, there was an announcement IN the train leaving non-regulars like me a bit confused. The train WAS going to Seremban, yet the announcement was telling commuters to change trains and board trains for Seremban, Pelabuhan Klang, Rawang, etc at the respective platforms. Did I or did I not have to change trains? On second thoughts, maybe it was a ploy to get some unsuspecting passengers to vacate the train. Stubbornly, I stayed on – wise decision, I thought as did many other passengers. Hardly anyone budged.

Come the Mid Valley station, it was a real horror. As the train slowed down to stop, I could see the train rubbing against the passengers waiting on the platform showing how extremely close they dared be to rush into the train - and rush in they did. It would be an amazing feat to be able to get off at the Mid Valley station at this point!

At one point the door would not close hence an announcement to not lean against the door or press the "open door" button". Again, no response. Door number 9 at my carriage, kept closing and opening a few times indicating something was stopping the door from closing properly. Finally the signature hissing sound as the door ledged close and off we went to the next station.
One would think that at residential stations such as Seputih and Taman Tasik Selatan we could breathe a sigh of relief but unfortunately no one got off while more passengers attempted to board the train. Despite being sardine packed to the brim, at every station, at least one passenger would manage to squeeze in. Each time as the door closes, everyone would take a deep breath to ensure that the door could close tightly.

Many thoughts occupied my head as I stood in the train. Actually being sandwiched so badly, I could just lift both my legs and would be supported by the other bodies around me! Get the picture? I was just happy I hung my hand phone round my neck. My phone rang twice and had it been in my handbag, there was no way I could reach to retrieve it. Given an option to breathe into someone’s freshly washed hair, the smelly armpit across my head and the wall of the train, I opted for the wall. The walls were clean. No graffiti to read just the notice and the emergency door handle in the glass casing. Across the seats along the wall, standing against door number 10, two girls caught my eye. They were hearing impaired but that didn’t stop them from having a lively conversation with each other. It was actually fun trying to interpret what they were saying. Initially it looked as though they were sharing some happy gossip, then their facial expressions changed to indicate mild disapproval and later brushed it off as though it didn’t matter to them. Indeed, action speaks louder than words.

It is an amazing observation that despite the one hour ordeal in the commuter, no one complained, no one was rude and no one retaliated. Reading from the facial expressions one could see the tired, frustrated and exasperated looks on the faces of the passengers, yet everyone held their piece. I suppose, everyone was focused on one goal to reach home, so despite the squeeze (as one appreciates how flexible the human body is), the smell (ranging from fresh shampoo to smelly armpits) and the inconvenience, the goal was so compelling that all these pale in comparison. In fact, I was impressed to see that in a situation like this, some degree of chivalry prevailed as one or two young lads actually stood up to give their seats to the more deserving ones.

After about one hour we reached Serdang. Breathing space at last. Although half the crowd got off there, I was still not lucky enough to grab a seat. My luck came just two stops before Bangi. I was thankful all the same. At least there was no further delay and the air conditioning system WAS working in the train. For those who had experienced being stranded in a commuter and one with the air conditioning not working, this is indeed a blessing. When I arrived in Bangi, it was just raining puppies and kittens. However, the station was jammed with the awaiting cars outside. Not wanting to prolong my relationship with KTM, I just fished out my light weight umbrella (which I recently purchased from Sogo) from my bag and happily walked out of the station to where my daughter was waiting at the main road and headed for home.

What about tomorrow? As evident from the James Bond movie, tomorrow never dies.


p/s: The author is a colleague of mine who, to some extent, coached me in improving my communication skill.