"Life is but a play, and we're all actors on stage here" quoted Shakespeare not verbatim though a while ago but it still holds true to this day; and it has a significant relevance to the story i'm telling you today!
To the resident of Bom Bahia who travel by public transport be it for work or education, travelling by train would be an experience you'd know only too well. Unless you're one of the more endowed ones in terms of money or time or both to travel by bus or car within the city! But if you're one among the People, you'll relate to this tale.
We Bombayiites spend such a significant part of our life in travel that it itself becomes an extension of life. A family outside family, someone to dote upon for help or advice, that someone whom you can ask about erectile dysfunction or a nagging wifey! Those who come from the far flung suburbs or travel to New Bombay as a part of daily life would definitely agree on the colossal amount of time spent just in reaching office or returning home.
During rush hours the train becomes not just a conduit for commuters, but also human feelings. Name it and you'll find it vividly expressed out here! Let's talk about a few of the colourful characters who make the train journey what it is!
Picture this. You're standing on a crowded platform. Now 'crowded' in Bombay parlance would mean a population of homo sapiens more than the total number of people in a small European village. Now this is an event which would happen during rush hour. Rush hour is the time when this crowd aspires to reach office/college or reach home. And let me tell you, this aspiration is a feeling that would stand the fury of an highly pissed off elephant or maybe even make it turn tail!
Enough said now, you're standing on the crowded platform waiting for the train to come. You're a first timer to this particular 'local'. Local meaning the train that starts off the platform on which you're waiting. The crowd is quiet as of now and is gathered around in small groups chatting, eating and generally having a good time. From a distance you see something coming. It's still too far off to tell which direction is it headed, but there's a palpable excitement in the crowd. They've begun to shuffle around and are waiting on the edge of the platform. Some even wait on the tracks on the opposite side.
"What the heck? What's all this for?" you wonder. The distant object was a train (you're high on booze or grass if you expected it to be a giant caterpillar!) and it's headed your way to the platform slowly but surely. You can notice the tension's begun to step up among the populace. "Hold, hold, hold, as one, as one, hold the line, make ready" you can almost hear these military commands off these people with no military experience whatsoever. Did you say people? Look closely.
The crowd has become one unit. At places they may seem divided, but the objective's clear in every mind. The train pulls into the station and for a moment, there's a pin drop silence. Of course that is the case if you discount the hooting of the train to clear off these adrenaline charged warriors lest they come in contact with the train and suddenly find themselves meeting Demeter in Hades.
The train has imperceptibly slowed down in its speed, and that's the signal!
"CHARGE!" The skirmishers rush in first before the train can stop eager to claim a prize for themselves and their gangs. Metal meets metal meets leather meets plastic meets everything else comprehensible as they rush into the coaches. They swing in like acrobats on the door's handles. There's a slight gap between the metal door and the metal coach when being fitted to allow for smooth operations. "Wham, wham, wham!" the doors loudly call out in pain as they bang against the coach's frame all because of our skirmishers. Hey, what did you think? This is WAR!
Now the train has slowed down for everyone to jump aboard. Mind you, you'd better be fleet footed else you'd be wiped out like an insect before an elephant. The crowd now makes one gigantic rush towards the door. The span of the door is five feet, and the whole lot of that space immediately disappears before a mass of flesh, blood and bone hell bent on securing the coveted prize. A seat to relax that tired butt!
This is the best part of the fray. This is where the action is. There were people smart enough to claim a seat in the train by travelling one stop before our local's stop. 'Dedhshana' is the local parlance in Bom Bahia for these people. Colourful expletives fill the air as would a battlefield with bullets and arrows, and the infantry crash into each other putting muscle, flesh and bone to the ultimate test. What good are all these if they can't win you a seat.
Every fray has a sufficient population of cannon fodder, and so does our local. Scrawny, slow fools also manage to clamber into the local in the melee, but they're not quick enough or smart enough to make space of the rest. What happens next? FIGHT!
Expletives, fistfights, punches, blows, kicks, bites and weaponry of all sorts are put to the test, and these idiots take the greatest brunt. They crumple under the relentless blows finally clearing the passage or making space for the precious rear to relax! Apart from these, the dedhshanas also lock horns with the rest of the gangs if there's an issue of turf taken over! What do you think we are? We too've drunk our mother's milk, and we'll show you what we've got!
The fray lasts for a good five minutes after which peace comes into play. The rears have found suitable 'cushions', so there's no more reason to be angry! All over now boys, it's all over!
The crowd yet again bears semblance to the previous mood. Everyone's occupied with themselves or their groups.
So what if you didn't land a seat tomorrow, try to get one tomorrow. We'll be locking horns yet again!
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