Within just a few hours of its ceremonial inauguration on Saturday, the much-celebrated Vande Bharat Sleeper Express was already littered with plastic waste and disposable spoons, giving the impression that basic civic responsibility had been abandoned almost immediately. Despite India’s efforts to modernise its railway network with sleek, technologically advanced Vande Bharat trains, deeply ingrained habits associated with older mail and express trains appear difficult for many passengers to leave behind.
Interestingly, even before the inaugural run, Indian Railway Accounts Service officer and Chief Project Manager Ananth Rupanagudi had issued a pointed advisory to prospective passengers. He urged people to travel on the train only if they understood basic toilet etiquette, followed instructions displayed in washrooms, and showed respect for public property. His remarks now seem almost prophetic.
As expected, passenger behaviour proved to be largely predictable, both inside and outside the train. The high-tech Vande Bharat Sleeper, which was flagged off on the Howrah–Guwahati route, barely completed its first day before a video circulating online showed the interiors strewn with food wrappers and plastic waste. The incident raised an uncomfortable question: who are these passengers? In a way, they represent a strange form of equality. While the government invests heavily in polishing and promoting premium trains like Vande Bharat—sometimes to the discontent of rail enthusiasts who feel older trains are neglected—passengers appear to treat all trains with equal disregard.
For many travellers, there seems to be no distinction between a state-of-the-art Vande Bharat coach and an older express train like the Saraighat Express. Regardless of the effort put into upgrading infrastructure, shiny new compartments are quickly turned into makeshift dumping grounds. This happens even though Vande Bharat services receive disproportionate attention and visibility compared to the rest of the railway network.
A common argument often surfaces in such discussions: that Indians behave poorly on trains but not on airplanes, and that this difference is rooted in class or economic divides. However, this reasoning does not fully hold up. Passengers travelling on the Vande Bharat Sleeper pay a noticeable premium. For instance, a 3AC ticket on the Saraighat Express between Howrah and Guwahati costs approximately ₹1,500, while the same class on the Vande Bharat Sleeper can go up to around ₹2,300. This price difference challenges the idea that poor behaviour is linked only to cheap travel or affordability.
Moreover, when these same individuals travel on urban metro systems, widespread littering and vandalism are far less common. While instances of bad behaviour do occur on metros and airplanes as well, they are not as rampant as on long-distance trains. One possible explanation lies in the nature of train journeys themselves. Train travel often involves longer durations and looser social settings, which may encourage people to abandon the restraint they typically display in more tightly regulated environments like airplanes or metro trains.
Another deeply rooted factor is the mindset with which people view the railways. Many passengers see trains as government property rather than shared public assets. As a result, the responsibility of cleanliness is subconsciously shifted entirely onto the authorities. The idea that public property belongs collectively to citizens—and therefore requires collective care—has not fully taken hold. This perception turns trains into spaces where neglect and misuse are seen as acceptable, with little fear of consequence.
What makes the situation even more striking is that the Howrah–Guwahati Vande Bharat Sleeper had not even started its regular commercial operations on the day of the incident. Commercial services are scheduled to begin only on January 22. The journey in question was merely a ceremonial flag-off by Prime Minister Narendra Modi.
Yet, within hours of the flag-off from Howrah, a video shared on social media by a passenger using the handle “Indianinfoguide” showed plastic waste scattered across one of the coaches. The user criticised the lack of civic sense displayed by passengers, and the clip quickly went viral, drawing widespread condemnation.
Social media users strongly criticised the commuters responsible for dirtying the brand-new train. Many pointed out that without basic civic sense, even world-class infrastructure—be it premium trains, modern airports, or expansive highways—becomes difficult to maintain. Some argued that civic behaviour should be instilled from an early age through compulsory education, warning that the problem would otherwise continue across generations. Others remarked sarcastically that despite its world-class appearance, the train was reduced to the condition of a roadside dustbin within hours, with some even predicting the eventual appearance of gutkha stains.
In response to the backlash, the Indian Railways acknowledged the viral video a few days later. A senior railway official stated that maintaining cleanliness is a shared responsibility, emphasising that the railway system is public property and not solely the government’s burden.
Ultimately, this issue goes beyond the debate of old trains versus new ones, or arguments about class, ticket prices, and affordability. At its core, it reflects a persistent mindset that treats the railways as belonging to no one—and therefore usable as a dumping ground by everyone. If behaviour improves in airplanes and metro systems but deteriorates the moment people step onto a train, the problem clearly lies not in economics but in attitude.
The larger and more uncomfortable question remains: will Indians continue to enjoy world-class infrastructure while treating it with disregard? The Indian Railways must send a clear and uncompromising message—whether it is a brand-new Vande Bharat train or an ageing workhorse of the network, cleanliness and civic responsibility are non-negotiable.
