There are certain things in life which intimidate you, things which you are always scared of, things which make you weak in your legs. Then you come across something inspiring, which allays your fear, spikes up the adrenalin levels in your body and a voice comes from inside “Karte hain, Dekhi Jayegi”. I had similar fears when it comes to traveling by the Mumbai local. The walloping people literally hanging out of these trains always made me wonder “How in the hell do I get inside, and once inside how do I get out”. These answers always eluded me and so one day really revved up after watching a scene from Schindler’s List wherein scores of people were stuffed in similar trains I decided to pursue the path of enlightenment, look for those answers and travel by the local.
I had to travel from Andheri to Dadar, a distance which would have taken me almost 2 hours by road (Please note that the average speed of buses on Mumbai roads is 5 km/hr). Actually walking would take a lot lesser time but being new to the city it is a chance I avoided. Anyways I decided to board the local and reached the Andheri Station. At the station I realized that the Indian population is 1.13 billion as a sea of humanity emerged in front of my eyes, never in my life had I seen so many people at one time at one place, it reminded me of the doordarshan telecast of the Kumbh Mela some years back. Somehow I reached the platform wherein my journey to enlightenment would commence.
Herein some of my beliefs were visibly shaken. Being an avid traveler I had learned some things which I was about to unlearn. Firstly from my experience I had learned that Indian trains are always late and that a train arriving 15 minutes late is well on time. Not in Mumbai, here the locals operate in efficiencies which are unparalleled. Secondly, I had thought that every train stops at the station for at least 2 minutes, a belief which cost me the next 30 minutes of my life. The train arrived at the platform and in a second there were shouts of “Oye Oye hato saamne se” as people came rambling towards me. A fraction of a second later I was shoved around by people who wanted to get into the train. Well now, being an amicable and well mannered gentleman I quietly stepped aside to let the elderly and the young board the train before me and the next second the train was already on its way. Lesson number one: Do what it takes to get on the train.
The next half an hour I spent sipping soda in the station and trying to rev up my spirits thinking if others could do it then so can I. The next train arrived and this time I was ready and determined. No sooner did the train stop than I was at its entrance, got pushed and shoved by the people disembarking but I held my ground, and then came a counter push from the people behind me desperate to get into the train and the next second I was in. Lesson number two: Getting inside the train is not that a Herculean task as one presumes. All you need to do is just stand in front of the door and the people behind you would ensure that you do get pushed in. Now I always knew that Mumbai locals are stuffed, but like this, I had never imagined. Now suddenly one more realization descended upon me. Getting into the train was easy and so would be getting out, but at the wrong station, that would be a disaster, especially after the efforts I had put through to get in, in the first place. I asked the people around me, who were by the way a bit too many as to which side does the next station Bandra comes in. Nemesis fell as Bandra station was to the side I was standing. So now I had to literally fight my way through the crowd to try and reach the other side of the door where the Dadar station platform would come. I got abused and stared by people as I tried to make my way through the thick of the people. Finally I heaved a sigh of relief as I got out of the doorway and ensured that I would not be forcibly disembarked at the Bandra Station itself.
Bandra arrived and there were was a war cry from inside as people got down followed by a similar war cry from the outside as people got in, and indeed a lot of people do managed to get in. This time the train was thronged like bees in a drove. Every part of your body is in contact with a different person. Not even a millimeter gap between two souls ( I know it sounds a bit gay but let me assure it was nothing of that sort). Now September can really be hot and humid in Mumbai especially if it has not rained the entire week. So everybody around you is perspiring and there ain’t enough space that you could put your hands down into your pockets to take that handkerchief out and wipe those beads of perspiration( Anyways I would not suggest anyone doing that coz there is a decently good probability that you might even get into the pockets of some other male. So perspire thinking its nature’s way of getting rid of your body toxins). The good thing is that you get into the train wearing one perfume and you get down wearing seven. By the time you get out you do not realize how your body smells or you end up cursing the person besides you for smelling bad and then later you realize it is your own body odor.
Bad experiences are not stand alone, they come in a package. Amongst this sweat and crowd suddenly I felt an itch in one of my legs. Now this itch was really very strategically positioned. High enough that I could not use my other leg to scratch it and low enough that I could not bend myself and scratch it. I stood there thinking about it and the more I thought about it the more the itchiness grew. I even contemplated of rubbing my leg with a fellow passenger, but being a North Indian trying to rub his leg against a Marathi at a time when the MNS was so very active didn’t sound to be a good idea. So I decided to brave it off. The next 10 minutes were the most agonizing 10 minutes of my life. I was dying to get off the train and scratch my leg and scratch and scratch it the entire day ( I know some of you must be getting that yuck kind of feeling but just try to understand my predicament and you would feel if you could have been there to scratch me off my misery).
Finally the train came to a halt; it looked as if aeons had passed as I scurried to get off the train. Well I was in fact a sight to look at, shirt wet with perspiration tucking out of my trousers, face wearing a dysenteric look, tie hanging lose, trousers adorned with shoe marks and hair gone all haywire. I Looked around for a lonely corner and bent down as if I had to tie my shoe lace (actually I was wearing slip on) and scratched. I cannot tell you of the pleasure I got out of it, I presume scratching would be the 3rd most pleasure giving thing (I hope you know what the 1st two are). I got up tucked in my shirt, ran my fingers through my hair, rubbed the dust off my trousers and looked around, I had vanquished one of my fears, I was a winner, I had successfully traveled in a Mumbai local. A large smile was written all over my face as words of Morpheus echoed in my head “Do not think what you can, know what you can”.
