Vande to Sleep or not to Sleep? Shakespeare and Ghālib on Vanishing Vande Sleeper

 

It took unflinching resolve of a team at Integral Coach Factory (ICF), Perambur, Chennai, to design and build Train 18 in just 18 months—India’s first modern semi-high-speed train. Flagged off in early 2019 as the Vande Bharat Express, it became a symbol of national pride and the PM’s pet project.  But after deploying nearly a 100 rakes—all in seater versions—the novelty has worn thin. I had long held that after approximately 50/60 daytime services, only a Sleeper version could carry the mission forward. But that version, which should have been reality by end 2019, has been repeatedly “launched” since March 2024; it, however, is still playing hide-and-sleeper with commercial service. Why? Largely because quality issues in the BEML-built prototype have caused ICF to raise red flags.

Meanwhile, nearly 25 Vande Bharat seater services are running half-empty with their average speeds falling. Yet the sleeper train slumbers on—metaphorically and literally. Disheartened, I once again connected via celestial Wi-Fi to my two ethereal uncles—Shakespeare and Ghālib —for their divine take. What follows is their unmistakably original commentary, beamed straight from the clouds above number nine to me by the two greats, unfiltered and with zero latency, unlike the delivery of the Sleeper train, pun intended, even as the chachā (uncle) lounged with a chalice of heavenly whiskey and the bard started to recite sonnets to a visibly bored angel.

Ghālib: Mere aziiz Shekhu (My dear Shakespeare), it is sheer enjoyment to witness the brouhaha of Rail-e-Hindustaa.n (Indian railways, IR), the latest being this Vande Sleeper which seems to have gone to sleep herself:

Tā phir na intizār meñ niiñd aa.e umr bhar

aane kā ahd kar ga.e aa.e jo ḳhvāb meñ

(Sleepless, I keep waiting for her to come after she promised to come in my dream)

And yours truly,

Banākar faqīroñ kā ham bhes Ghālib

tamāshā-e-ahl-e-karam dekhte haiñ 

(faqīroñ: vagrants who lead a mystic life, bhes: disguise, tamāshā-e-ahl-e-karam: spectacle, exhibition of the people of kindness. I put on the guise of a vagrant mendicant and witness the spectacle of the conduct of the people of generosity, with a view to determining the virtue in the so-called kind people)

Shakespeare (raising his eyebrows): Yes, dear Gaulib, words are easy—like the wind after chai and zamoza at railway stations—but action, as Volumnia thunders in Coriolanus, is the true eloquence. And these IR bozos have found meaning only in eloquence, not in action. I did capture them perfectly in King Lear, with the hero’s immortal prophecy: “…Nothing will come of nothing…”, and lo! IR has overachieved on that very metric. They keep unveiling the poor thing like it is the ghost of Banquo—again and again, but never at the feast!

Ghālib (smilingly): And what a bhuut (ghost) it is, ShaKHs-e-Pīr (wise old man)! First tested, then arrested. Inspected at dawn, rejected by tea time. Is this technical turbulence or just a turf war in babudom sherwanis (bureaucratic vestments)? Methinks ICF, denied the designer badge and builder’s pride for the Sleeper, is now hurtling at BEML like a mother-in-law at a second wedding.

Nukta-chīñ hai ġham-e-dil us ko sunā.e na bane

kyā bane baat jahāñ baat banā.e na bane

(Nukta-chīñ: hypercritical, ġham-e-dil: heart’s sorrow. My heart’s anguish is subtle, not easily shared; how can you converse where it fails in nitpicking? Or, my heart’s grief is too refined for these IR’s Sleeper Cell Spartans—how do you hold a conversation where everyone is better at derailing than discussing?)

Shakespeare (nodding gravely): Indeed my dervish buddy, is there any Richard III on IR to say, “…Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary; Then fiery expedition be my wing...”? None, so this is no railway; this is the Theatre of Absurd! ICF seems to have quietly turned the Vande into a Hamlet—it keeps asking: To Sleeper or not to Sleeper? First abdicate all responsibility, drop the ball, then hold a seminar on how BEML should have caught it — classic bureaucratic choreography, befitting "Delay breeds impotent Delay breeds impotent coaches on and snail-paced trains, while vision naps in Perambur, while vision naps in Perambur".

Ghālib (sighing): And in the meantime, some 25 of the Vande siblings are running with empty coaches, all singing a soft-rock remix of:

Ye na thī hamārī qismat ki visāl-e-yār hotā

agar aur jiite rahte yahī intizār hotā

(visāl-e-yār: consummation of love with the beloved. It was not my good fortune to have the cherished union with my beloved in this life, but then, had I lived longer, I would still have remained expectant in waiting for the rendezvous.)

Shakespeare (mock-serious): So, Mirza Gilboy, maybe they should rename it Much Ado About Nothing Express, which promised a Sleeper; but served us railway siestas instead. Recalling those dazzling artist impressions of the BEML train interiors, I was momentarily blinded—until reality pulled the emergency chain. In the spirit of the scroll from The Merchant of Venice, 'All that glisters is not gold'—sometimes it's just vinyl over plywood with mood lighting!

Ghalib (raising his cup): Ji haañ Mere firangi dost, (Oh yes, my foreigner friend):

Ham ko ma.alūm hai is train kī haqīqat lekin

dil ke ḳhush rakhne ko ye ḳhayāl achchhā hai

(ma.alūm: aware, jannat: paradise, haqiqat: reality, ḳhayāl: thought. We are well aware of the truth about IR trains but these images are good to keep our hearts entertained.)

In any case, why blame ICF alone? BEML took the contract with a swagger, but delivered like pedestrian poets without metaphors, with poor rhymes and no reasons. So now, ICF, the parent of this child, wants to disown the stepson and the in-law, the train and BEML, leaving the latter to sing:

Ye kahāñ kī dostī hai ki bane haiñ dost nāseh

koī chārasāz hotā koī ġham-gusār hotā

(nāseh: preacher, chārasāz: healer, physician ġham-gusār: one who comforts in grief. What friendship is this when they have become preachers instead of alleviating my grief or comforting me as I suffer the pain of my passion?)

Shakespeare: Yes, my desi (Indian) buddy, now as BEML says, mimicking the villain Shylock from The Merchant of Venice “I am not bound to please thee with my answers”,  at every review meeting, what we have is not a mere Sleeper—this is a Rip Van Winkle, fabricated in steel. As Edmund tells Edgar in King Lear, “…The wheel is come full circle…” and it is time IR stops chasing fake inaugurations and starts thinking of delivery.

Ghalib (raising an imaginary pen): Arre, Billee Barad, (What Billy the bard) Till then, let us write a report, which, although sadly, the Indian Press and media will not release,

Thī ḳhabar garm ki Ghālib ke uḌeñge purze

dekhne ham bhī ga.e the pa tamāshā  na huā

(ḳhabar: news, garm: warm, purze: parts, tamāshā: spectacle. There was news galore about dismemberment of the lover and we too went to witness the spectacle but it was a damp squib.)

Shakespeare: Well said, pal Gawleeb, so let us send a transcript of our powwow directly to Sudhanshu Mani, who would surely love to blog about it.

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