Musings On A Mumbai Local
I had to travel from Kurla to Vashi today and so I took the obvious mode of transport- the local train. I reached Kurla station and then effortlessly boarded the train, thanks to the conveyor belt of people pushing each other like they're running from a dinosaur.
I got a seat, and I consider myself the luckiest person for that. The train reached Mankhurd in no time, given the pretty much negligible distance between the stations. The journey from Mankhurd to Vashi however, takes relatively longer owing to the presence of the vast Vashi creek between the two places, which trains cross by means of a commendable feat of engineering- The Vashi Bridge.
Since the bridge is pretty long, and our local trains are not exactly the fastest on the planet, it takes a while to reach Vashi. Some peaceful souls even manage to catch a nap in those ten odd minutes. How lucky! I simply cannot sleep during daylight hours; and cursed as I am by daylight insomnia, I began noticing other things.
Travelling in a train is like riding a horse- along with going forward, you keep oscillating up and down, endlessly. The point of difference between train and horse- riding being that after a train ride, you don't feel like you got kicked in your balls repeatedly, a million times. The oscillations make their effect felt inside the train as well. The handles hanging from the roof, to which countless Mumbaikars have held on for dear life, swing from side to side. People who were not fortunate enough to get a seat, fall on people on either side, in sync with the handles. A fat man whose shirt barely manages to cover his belly sits lost in the land of dreams, while his tummy does the Jumpstyle to the rhythm of the train. Nothing and nobody, myself included, is spared from the wobbling, and all of this happens in complete synchronization. It was amusing to see everyone bouncing to the rhythm of the moving train and as I was thinking about this, a smile crept on my face. The man sitting facing me, immediately gave me a weird look. Maybe he thought I was crazy. I just shut my eyes and let myself get drenched in the rhythm, like I was already drenched from the rain.
I reached my destination and got off the train, part of me thankful for coming out alive with all limbs intact, and part of me wondering how small things like what I had experienced, can make even the most harrowing of journeys like a local train, a bit better; and with that thought, the smile crept back on my face, this time, wider than before.
I got a seat, and I consider myself the luckiest person for that. The train reached Mankhurd in no time, given the pretty much negligible distance between the stations. The journey from Mankhurd to Vashi however, takes relatively longer owing to the presence of the vast Vashi creek between the two places, which trains cross by means of a commendable feat of engineering- The Vashi Bridge.
Since the bridge is pretty long, and our local trains are not exactly the fastest on the planet, it takes a while to reach Vashi. Some peaceful souls even manage to catch a nap in those ten odd minutes. How lucky! I simply cannot sleep during daylight hours; and cursed as I am by daylight insomnia, I began noticing other things.
Travelling in a train is like riding a horse- along with going forward, you keep oscillating up and down, endlessly. The point of difference between train and horse- riding being that after a train ride, you don't feel like you got kicked in your balls repeatedly, a million times. The oscillations make their effect felt inside the train as well. The handles hanging from the roof, to which countless Mumbaikars have held on for dear life, swing from side to side. People who were not fortunate enough to get a seat, fall on people on either side, in sync with the handles. A fat man whose shirt barely manages to cover his belly sits lost in the land of dreams, while his tummy does the Jumpstyle to the rhythm of the train. Nothing and nobody, myself included, is spared from the wobbling, and all of this happens in complete synchronization. It was amusing to see everyone bouncing to the rhythm of the moving train and as I was thinking about this, a smile crept on my face. The man sitting facing me, immediately gave me a weird look. Maybe he thought I was crazy. I just shut my eyes and let myself get drenched in the rhythm, like I was already drenched from the rain.
I reached my destination and got off the train, part of me thankful for coming out alive with all limbs intact, and part of me wondering how small things like what I had experienced, can make even the most harrowing of journeys like a local train, a bit better; and with that thought, the smile crept back on my face, this time, wider than before.
This was a fun read. Your articles' title are refreshing, and generate curiosity.
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