A piece back from when I used the Mumbai local trains as my daily commute to work. I was not in a very positive frame of mind, and truly speaking, the mess that Mumbai local is, it kind of helped me alleviate and forget the cause of my stress.
The crowd. The noises. Stray dogs. Sleeping people you might step over. Spitting people you might come in the way of (ugh!). A million puddles to dodge. Another million puddles of spit. Leaking roofs spewing waterfalls. People walking annoyingly slow. People walking hurtfully fast. The foghorn of arrival. The rush of departure. The melee to get a seat. The confusion of a newbie. Experienced aunties. Clumsy, overloaded aunties. Least bothered first-class chics. Overflowing second-class bogies. The hopelessness of running. The danger of a stampede. Irksome delays. Adamant beggars. Noisy hawkers. Acrobatics for earnings. Dare-devilry of the young. Helplessness of the old. The stench of survival. Suffocation. Sweat. Uneasiness. Headache. Get me out of here!!
A stranger’s nod. An unexpected friendship. Known faces. Unknown smiles. Politeness of a few! Big-boned aunties(if you know what I mean). Parsi aunties. Gujju aunties. Bossy aunties. Tech-savvy discussions. Birthday celebrations. Weather predictions. Marriage invitations. Pregnancy announcements. Sleepy bobble heads. Books reviewed. Seat’s claimed! Grey’s Anatomy discoursed. A parallel universe. A different world.
Mumbai local. True story.
I do miss it, although weirdly enough, I would never,ever want it to be my means of daily commute again.