Each August, nearly twenty lakh pilgrims complete one of Hinduism's most demanding acts of devotion — walking barefoot to Baba Baidyanath Dham — and arrive at Eastern Railway stations carrying the physical cost of their faith. This year, the railway chose to receive them not merely as passengers but as people in need, deploying round-the-clock medical teams at Jasidih and Deoghar to treat wounds, restore hydration, and prevent suffering from compounding in silence. It is a quiet institutional acknowledgment of an ancient truth: that care, offered at the right moment, is itself a form of infras
Eastern Railway deploys 24/7 medical teams to aid exhausted Shravani Mela pilgrims
Thousands of pilgrims suffered physical injuries, dehydration, heat exhaustion, and disorientation from prolonged barefoot walking and physical exertion during the Shravani Mela pilgrimage.
Compassion, in this context, is infrastructure.
Mark
Why does a railway system need to deploy medical teams for pilgrims? Isn't that the responsibility of the temple or the pilgrimage organizers?
Mimi
The railway is the last point of contact before pilgrims disperse back to their homes across the country. If someone boards a train with an untreated wound or severe dehydration, they're traveling for hours in a confined space. The complications compound. The railway's position makes it uniquely responsible.
Mark
What's the actual scale of what we're talking about here? Two million people is enormous.
Mimi
It is. By mid-August, nearly two million had already passed through. That's not a small medical operation—that's a public health intervention at the scale of a small nation. The railway had to staff it accordingly, 24/7, at multiple stations.
Mark
The foot injuries sound particularly severe. Why are pilgrims walking barefoot for such long distances?
Mimi
It's devotional practice. The barefoot walk is part of the sacrifice, the physical offering. But the human body has limits. Blisters rupture. Raw skin becomes exposed. Without treatment, infection sets in. The railway's medical teams are essentially preventing that cascade.
Mark
One of the examples mentions a disoriented pilgrim. How common is that?
Mimi
Common enough that the railway has protocols for it. Heat exhaustion in August, combined with fasting and physical exertion, creates a specific kind of crisis—the person loses their bearings, can't think clearly. A wheelchair and rehydration can reverse it completely, but only if someone recognizes it and acts quickly.
Mark
What does it say about the railway's priorities that they're doing this?
Mimi
It says they're thinking beyond efficiency. A railway could simply move people through stations as quickly as possible. Instead, they're creating rest areas, monitoring crowds, keeping doctors on hand. It's a choice to treat pilgrims as people rather than units of traffic.
El Pulso
- Nearly two million pilgrims descended on Eastern Railway stations this August, many arriving with blistered, bleeding feet, heat-depleted bodies, and minds clouded by exhaustion — the physical toll of barefoot devotion made visible at the platform's edge.
- One pilgrim reached Jasidih station so disoriented he could barely stand, his body hollowed out by the August heat and days of fasting — railway staff rushed him to a wheelchair, into the health unit, and began the slow work of bringing him back.
- Medical teams clean and dress severe foot wounds, administer painkillers, assess tetanus risk, and monitor dehydration cases continuously — unglamorous, precise work aimed at stopping acute suffering from becoming permanent damage.
- Railway leadership issued explicit orders for constant medical readiness, with the principal chief medical director conducting repeated on-site reviews to ensure teams can respond the moment a pilgrim shows signs of distress.
- Stations have been restructured into something closer to care environments — holding areas, rest zones, charging points, drinking water, toilets, and CCTV surveillance — so that the journey home does not become another ordeal layered onto the first.
Each August, nearly twenty lakh pilgrims complete one of Hinduism's most demanding acts of devotion — walking barefoot to Baba Baidyanath Dham — and arrive at Eastern Railway stations carrying the physical cost of their faith. This year, the railway chose to receive them not merely as passengers but as people in need, deploying round-the-clock medical teams at Jasidih and Deoghar to treat wounds, restore hydration, and prevent suffering from compounding in silence. It is a quiet institutional acknowledgment of an ancient truth: that care, offered at the right moment, is itself a form of infrastructure.
Nearly twenty lakh pilgrims have passed through Eastern Railway stations this August on their way to and from Baba Baidyanath Dham in Deoghar — one of Hinduism's most sacred sites, a Jyotirlinga and Shakti Peeth combined. The pilgrimage is ancient and physically unsparing. Devotees walk barefoot for miles, fast, and push their bodies to the edge. By the time many reach the station to board trains home, they are already broken.
This year, the Eastern Railway chose to meet them there. Medical teams at Jasidih and Deoghar have worked around the clock treating the specific injuries devotion leaves behind — feet blistered, burst, and bleeding from prolonged barefoot walking. Staff clean and irrigate wounds, apply sterile dressings, administer painkillers, and evaluate tetanus risk. It is careful, unglamorous work, the kind that prevents infection from quietly becoming something worse.
Foot injuries are only part of the picture. Heat exhaustion and dehydration push pilgrims into disorientation. One man arrived at Jasidih barely able to stand, his body depleted by the August heat and days of exertion. Railway staff brought him to the health unit by wheelchair, began rehydrating him, and monitored him until his alertness returned and he could be reunited with his family.
The response reflects a deliberate institutional shift. General Manager Gitika Pandey and Divisional Railway Manager Sangrah Maurya issued explicit instructions for constant medical readiness. Principal Chief Medical Director Nataraj Basappa has visited the stations repeatedly to assess whether teams are truly prepared to respond immediately. The aim extends beyond treating acute crises — it is to prevent the slower unraveling of health that can follow physical trauma once pilgrims return home.
The stations themselves have been restructured. Holding areas ease platform crowding. Rest zones offer seating and mobile charging points. Drinking water and toilets are available. CCTV cameras monitor the crowds continuously, while medical staff move through the stations watching for the person swaying slightly, the one sitting alone looking lost. As communications officer Shibram Majhi framed it, the railway's role here goes beyond transit — it extends to standing beside people at a moment of vulnerability. Compassion, in this context, is infrastructure.
Nearly two million pilgrims have moved through Eastern Railway stations this August, making their way to Baba Baidyanath Dham in Deoghar—one of Hinduism's most sacred sites, a Jyotirlinga and Shakti Peeth combined. The journey is ancient and brutal. Devotees walk barefoot for miles. They fast. They push their bodies past the point most would consider reasonable. And when they arrive at the stations to board trains home, many of them are broken.
This year, the Eastern Railway decided to meet them there. Medical teams stationed at Jasidih and Deoghar have been working around the clock, treating the physical wreckage of devotion. The injuries are specific and severe. Pilgrims arrive with feet that have blistered, burst, and bled from prolonged barefoot walking. The railway's medical staff clean these wounds thoroughly, irrigate them, dress them with sterile padding, administer painkillers, and assess whether tetanus protection is needed. It is careful, unglamorous work—the kind that prevents infection and permanent damage.
But the injuries to the feet are only part of the picture. Heat exhaustion and dehydration send pilgrims into disorientation. One man arrived at Jasidih station confused and unstable, his body depleted from the physical toll and the August heat. Railway staff got him into a wheelchair, brought him to the health unit, and began rehydrating him with oral rehydration solution while doctors monitored his condition closely. His alertness returned. He was reunited with his family.
The railway's response reflects a deliberate shift in how it approaches the pilgrimage season. General Manager Gitika Pandey and Divisional Railway Manager Sangrah Maurya issued explicit instructions: medical teams must remain on constant alert. Nataraj Basappa, the principal chief medical director, has visited the stations repeatedly, reviewing facilities and assessing whether the teams are truly prepared to respond immediately when a pilgrim needs help. The goal is not just to treat acute crises but to prevent the complications that might emerge after pilgrims return home—infections from untreated wounds, lingering dehydration, the slow unraveling of health that can follow physical trauma.
Beyond the medical tents, the railway has restructured the stations themselves. Holding areas prevent the platforms from becoming dangerously crowded. Rest zones offer places to sit, with mobile charging points so pilgrims can contact their families. Drinking water and toilets are available. CCTV cameras monitor the crowds continuously. Medical staff move through the stations watching for signs of distress—the person swaying slightly, the one sitting alone looking confused.
It is a recognition that a pilgrimage is not a transaction. A pilgrim is not a passenger in the conventional sense. They arrive at the station already spent, already at the edge of what their bodies can endure. The railway's job, as its communications officer Shibram Majhi framed it, goes beyond moving people from point A to point B. It extends to standing beside them at a moment of vulnerability, providing not just transit but care. The medical teams are there because the railway understands that compassion, in this context, is infrastructure. It is as necessary as the tracks themselves.
Citas Notables
ER's responsibility goes far beyond transit—through dedicated medical teams, prompt wheelchair assistance, and compassionate care, we strive to stand beside every devotee.— Shibram Majhi, Eastern Railway CPRO
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