It started in 1853..

1853 was arguably one of the most memorable years in the world history. It was the year when Levi Strauss and  Tissot were founded. It was also the year when the Potato Chips were first prepared. Closer home however, 1853 was important for a wholly different reason - It was the year when the first railway train ran from Bombay to Thane. Crawled would be a better word - the train, Aag Gadi (How apt is that?!) covered 34 kms in 57 minutes.

160 years later, the Mumbai train system has expanded at an extraordinary pace; running 2343 trains  and carrying 6.94 million passengers daily. If the numbers don't add up, kindly feast your eyes on a typical Mumbai local:

Just another day at the station

 While a metro system and a monorail are in progress to diffuse this accident-waiting-to-happen, the love for Mumbai locals can seep into the staunchest of hearts. Even if it does not, prolonged exposure to locals can change you irrevocably - either make you stronger or break you completely. The local also happens to be a very good teacher. Some of the best lessons that can be learned in the process of travelling include: 

1.       Strategic Analysis: I learned my first truly practical strategy generation and application through trains. Train journeys have their own SWOTs with slightly varying definitions:

·        Standing: This involves a lot of planning. The bag has to be taken care of, the sticky hands and faces have to be avoided, the sleeping-lady-on-your-shoulder has to be gently nudged, and most importantly, the ones-who-come-to-fight must be pointedly ignored.

·        Weaning: A gradual weaning from lady-like whims occurs. After few months ( or years), someone's foot on top of your own does not elicit the necessary cry of pain, nor does being crushed to death, or being sandwiched in the middle of four thick skinned ladies.

·        Opportunity: The seating opportunity is a difficult one to grab, especially by the genteel personnel. The steps involved are: Barge in - > Poke everyone asking where they will get down -> Stand right over their head until they get up -> Get into a mini fight to occupy that seat.

Or you can take a loser's way out and stand in a corner like I do.

·       Tension diffusion: The approach of a station can send everyone in a frenzy, even if they aren't getting down. It's palpable. People hold their breath, laugh nervously, get into position and start pushing the ones in front - just to let go of all that pent-up energy.

2.       Need for Speed: The amateurs see a train which has reached the platform about 200 metres away and decide to let it go. The seasoned ones run. They push, scream, shout at the oncoming traffic and plead with the driver to wait for at least one or two more seconds. Invariably there is an Shah Rukh Khan-heart girl inside the compartment, leaning and holding out her hand for you to latch on to.

3.       Ignore or Procure: The most interesting part of the train journey is the shopping opportunity. There are trinkets, books, home supplies, flowers and snacks. Sold at about 1/3^rd of the market price, the wares are tempting, and the journey is an important lesson in controlling one’s wayward desires.

4.      Respect (or Callousness as the case may be): Local trains brings out the true character of a traveller. It hit a particular low when a college girl was periodically kicking a 60+ year old lady sitting down, asking her to move a bit so that she could stand. There are very few (less than 5%) who get up for a pregnant woman/mother and none of them think twice before lashing out at older, tired or diseased women. Fights are started with little incentive and swear words are used in abundance.

Mumbai locals are an enriching experience. There are unwritten rules and counter-intuitive codes of conduct. There is always a temptation to be a little less human and a little more cruel. However, there are people who overcome that by making lasting relationships and singing old melodies at the top of their voices. Conversation flows freely ranging from books, music and recipes to weather, politics and cricket. There are beautiful eunuchs coming in, singing and teasing everyone mercilessly providing the much needed frivolity. There are kids who enjoy the variety of the company and the novelty of the journey ( I can vouch for one at least!). The local trains are that and much more; for they are an exact mirror of the city they run in.

The Real Parent

The WTF quote of the day which prompted this post

A “selfless parent” is a myth. They exist only in public – where there is sweet talking, blogging and overt praising. See them in action 24X7, you’ll be surprised. There may be a lot more fighting, strong words, whining, crying, breakdowns and/or hitting than you would have imagined.

This does not mean that they are hypocritical. A parent faces too much pressure – from the society which is judging their every single move (you lose your cool once in public and you get the tag), from the spouse who takes minimal, equal or greater load than you do, the internet with its gyan on what is right and what is not, and more importantly, from the child, who keeps looking at him/her with adoring and trusting eyes (and pulls all your heart strings in the process). Add the professional and/or house work-load into the equation and it’s a brimming pot full of emotions. Parents have their own way of dealing with it – they either become mule-headed in their beliefs or putty to other people’s opinions. Whichever path they take and however much they try, they also end up being judgemental and hypocritical.

Unfortunately, they forget to be selfish (Yes, I think it is a good trait, and a difficult one to master). It is easy to forget everything and make your world revolve around one tiny tot. It is easy to forget one’s hobbies, health and friends to do so. But slowly and steadily, these things are missed. Tempers run short and self-pity attacks in full force. Emotional blackmails are uttered inadvertently (“I sacrificed EVERYTHING” for you). From being the source of dependency for the child, one becomes dependent on them.

Since being a mother brings out all the advise-giving hormones to forefront, let me add my bit here – if you are a parent, make an effort and be selfish. Selfish makes you happy, and that’s what makes a real parent. A child wants a content parent, not a selfless one.

Bimbo-ed

On one of the hottest days in Mumbai, I happened to travel by taxi to work. Since he had to stop the vehicle about half a km away from the building (road block or some such), the driver asked if I could walk from there.

Of course, I said confidently and started walking. After passing a couple of similar glass-and-concrete buildings, I was confused to see a long stretch of under construction properties. I was about to ask for directions, when I noticed my building behind this property. I took a right. Reaching a fork, I took a right again, and then another right.

I reached the exact same spot I was in about 45 minutes back. Furthermore, tantalisingly ahead, the name of my office gleamed merrily. I was 100% sure it wasn’t there when I had started on this merry-go-round around some random office complex.

If you are assuming that I am one of those bimbo girls who cannot understand directions well, who stares blankly at maps, who goes glassy eyed once she is out of the bus, who is mortally scared of driving, who throws up her hands helplessly while travelling and leans very heavily on her partner to lead her to light, you are absolutely right. To my credit, I have well-developed radars and intuitions every girl is blessed with – they just go haywire the moment I step out of my house.

Now, this was never a problem in Chennai, the land of the buses. With an amazing public transport like that, I could easily reach any destination I wanted. But with Mumbai and my affinity to its trains, I started getting lost way too frequently to be comfortable.

So, I did what any girl would do - I went shopping, and got a phone with google maps.

The maps opened up a whole new lucid world to me – despite my hazy glasses and vague outlook towards directions ("Take right.. uhh.. left...uhh.. (touch shoulder to determine direction)... right only anna"), I could actually talk coherently to auto-wallahs, and could reach places on time. I could confidently rattle names of places in cities I had never visited before. Life was simple and smooth again, until I realised that the maps, like humans, were not dependable. Take the following sample cases:

1.       Case 1 - Zeroing in: Travelling in an auto in Pune, I was diligently following his progress through the maps, when I realised that we had crossed the destination. I asked him to stop (despite his protests that it was further down), and start walking around trying to figure out where I had to go.  I was either crossing the spot or moving away from it. About half an hour later, I finally thought about zooming in the maps, found that it was indeed further down, and located the company  – about 45 minutes late.

2.       Case 2 - No Man’s Land: My heart belongs to Chennai buses ( and I am sure I have drilled that information down my readers' throats way too many times already) . So despite all the travel concessions available, I decided to take a bus to Ambattur Industrial Estate. I reached the place within 15 minutes, opened my maps and searched for SIDCO industrial estate – straight ahead apparently. So, I start walking.

20 minutes later, I realised that the sun was right above my head, I was near collapse, and in the middle of nowhere. I was beginning to slightly panic, since the spot was still about 1 km away. The Lord, working in his usual Aalavandaan (smug ruling) ways, thankfully sent an auto-wallah, who after ominous sentences ("You have left Ambattur long back. Girls like you should not be in such roads ma”) dropped me back. I got lost again after that, but that would make this post way too long. 

3.      Case 3 - Multiple lanes: I was supposed to go to the 1^st main road in Ambattur (different day, same location – this industrial estate defeated my energy and soul – so much so that I vowed to never go back without a guide and multiple moral boosting personnel). So, on came my maps, and I started giving directions for the 1^st main road – we went through mud roads, grass & shrubs and railways crossings to reach a road barely wide to let a man through. After about three more similar results, I gave up and came back.

I realised then that the Lord, with his divine abilities, created all of us with a purpose. Some of us have to start a revolution and bring about a change. Some have to be corrupt for the good to shine through. Some are great architects forming a city, and some have to destroy it. It takes people their whole lifetime to find the purpose of their lives and their role in the universe. About a week back, I finally found mine.

My purpose is to meander aimlessly – to perennially search for my destination and finally give up and ask for directions.

What Next?

I had just boarded the almost empty 10-pm train from my office area, when I saw her – a very old and unkempt lady sprawled over the pathway – exposing most of her body, and too tired to cover herself up. The train stopped, and she made half an attempt to pull her saree down and go back to sleep. I had forgotten about her by the time I took my seat, staring blankly at the passing stations and the dwindling crowds.

About a couple of stops before the last one, she got up and hobbled to the seat next to mine. Everyone immediately got up and left. I remained, a tad uncomfortable but doggedly ignoring her. She was leaning towards me, eyes closed, which was when I saw that most of the other passengers were giggling and motioning me to sit next to them. I did, and that’s when I noticed that she had urinated all over the pathway.

To my utter embarrassment, I started crying. This was one of the few moments where I had no idea what to do – go to her and give her some money, ask her what she needed and where she had to go, call up some authorities or just let her be.

What would you have done?

Fancy Bottles

Mornings are exhilarating as well as challenging - Getting up at 5, making breakfast and lunch, cleaning the house, getting ready, rushing to catch the bus and then, hopping on a Mumbai local to reach office by 8.30-9.00. Exhilarating! (ya, I am sort of short of words today.)

If it isn’t obvious, I love my morning routine, to the point of obsession. But if you notice carefully, there is a crucial element missing here - looking presentable. Everyone who has known me for a while (or has seen me before 1100 AM) knows that that is not one of my priorities. Woes betide the day the comb touches my hair before 8 AM in the morning. It’s a miracle that I brush my teeth or take bath at all.

Yesterday, I decided to change that. I got up slightly early (04.57), completed the rest of the work and got to work. I combed my hair with a vengeance, wore earrings, put on some eye liner and stepped into my pointy heels. As expected, just before leaving, I realised a crucial mistake – the moisturiser! So, I rushed back in, got one of these fancy bottles my sister had given me and generously applied it.

Needless to say, I missed the bus. To top that, some of the said fancy cream had got into my eyes, making the bystanders wonder why I was crying for missing a 10-minute frequency bus (On an unrelated note, I have bawled my eyes out on missing a train which had a 5 minute frequency.) I got in the next bus with tears streaming down my cheeks, got in the train with half-closed eyes ( with a lady gently patting my back in sympathy), and walked to office with heads down trying hard to not let the pain show. (and before you ask, no, I don’t carry water, tissue paper, wipes, or other useful things).

Finally, I reached office, rushed to the washroom and cleaned my eyes. The pain abated almost immediately, but I was furious – at all these cucumber-green tea containing, sexily-named creams which don’t take sensitive eyes into consideration. What sadistic, maniacal person would have created such a monstro………..

As it turned out, the ‘cream’ was actually a shower gel. I had travelled for 1.5 hours with soap applied on my face, hands and legs.

Suffice to say, the Project: looking presentable has been indefinitely postponed.