The EMU halt

The EMU halt
(Enduring and murdering under trial)

Ok. I am prepared for the battle. I hang my bag in the front, tie my stole, adjust my hair and await the arrival of Mumbai’s lifeline- a cliché it may sound but is the most apt one for our local trains.


And if you think I am exaggerating the STEPPING IN process of entering a local train, you get it wrong. Entering a local train is synonymous with going to a battle except that you have no one feeding you curd with sugar and the worst-you go to the battlefield without any weapons…
So, I am at the station. The train arrives as swiftly as a gust of a wind. Comes to a halt. I push, pull, drag, haul, and lug. And what happens?? A lady getting down knocks me right off my way and I see my train bidding me farewell…
Hmmm. Right then, with a strong determination, with a MIGHTY HEART, I try convincing myself that the next train will be seized by me. Let the worse situations turn up. I will fight. (Remember I told ya bout battlefield??!!?)

The queen comes. Yippee I am the first IN-GOER (coined by me). But all things do not come with ease. Either you fight them or you succumb to them. I select the first one.
What happens is, the knot of my stole comes off, strangulates me (until I die..), the chain of my bag gets stuck up somewhere, I am totally unknown of the fact as to who’s stamping on my foot as if callously killing a cockroach. I try to breathe but instead of oxygen I manage breathing the horrible sweaty odor. So two rules if you are an amateur in a train-


1. Never wear a stole, unless you want to suicide!!
2. Always spray a whiff of perfume on you before leaving home unless you want to faint smelling yourself (I know that sounds disgusting, but that’s true!!)
At last, I clear my way out. Time to celebrate. Victory smells so good!! Seat anywhere??? I see two fatsos. Do I ask them to move?? I do. A ray of hope brightens my prospects of getting a seat and relaxing my cockroach-crushed and almost strangulated neck. I tell them to move. They do. In the sense of just swinging their bodies and expressing themselves as being such sacrificing women giving a part of their seat to me.


I can’t sit there!!!! Damn it! I get up and move towards the window so that I can at least stand easily. The ladies glare at me and say –“please hat jayie. Hawa nahi aa rahi hai.”What?????? Fine. Lets make a deal. I throw you out of the window and then you inhale as much hawa you want… yesno??
But trains are good entertainers as much as they are ‘suffering givers’. You get to listen to some really interesting gossip about the neighbor’s son’s wife’s brother’s girlfriend. Phew!! And some really terrifying and obviously unbelievable stories about ghost haunting this train. And if you are in the gent’s compartment and if you are goddamn lucky, you get to ogle at those handsome hunks. What a visual treat!!
The antaksharis, the talks about the new cool dude in your neighborhood, your latest break up…all of them reveal their personal diaries here!!

My station arrives. I glance a look of myself in the mirror. I look close to a zombie with entangled hair, beads of sweat dripping down my skin making squirrel lines on my face and crumpled up clothes!!





P.S: Wonder who’s getting in next to face a similar situation like mine!!

P.P.S: Also wondering how many more fights I have to fight….and win!!!!