Metro Diaries #8: The newest stories, Part 1

I thought I was done with stories from, and related to, the metro train in Delhi. I'm seriously so trusting (and thus, such a misfit in this ever-increasing-stupid-mindless-selfish-society, but that's a story for another day). There are just thousands and thousands of people shuffling on and off from the Metro every day, so that it's quite obvious you would come across an incident some time. I'm sharing two (of four) of the latest metro-related updates today. The other two will follow soon.

1. The Kumbhkarana Girl

I'm a light sleeper, except on some nights when I've had a super-exhausting day in both body and mind (mostly mind), and even in those rare times I wake up feeling guilty and all-wrong. How could I have slept through without knowing when G got sick and Mum gave him medicines? What if I'm the only one with someone who got sick in the night and isn't able to speak and I'm sleeping soundly!? Or worse, what if there's an earthquake and I'm sleeping without feeling it? You get the point: I'm not happy being a heavy sleeper. Strangely, I never thought much about other people sleeping light or heavy, or caring about it, or even observing it. Until that day in the metro.

The station I get down to reach office is one at the end of a line, so that if you don't deboard, you can go back the same line. I got up from my seat about half a minute before the train was to stop, gave a cursory glance around the nearly-empty coach, and saw a girl in a corner seat, her head angled back against the train wall. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. She was asleep. The train rocked a little as it shifted tracks, it shuddered, people shuffled to the doors, but the sleeping girl did not wake up. I decided to shake her awake if she wasn't up even when the train stopped.

The train stopped and she was still asleep. I went to her and gently placed a hand on her arm so as not to alarm her, and said, "Excuse me." I admit, I was even softer than I had expected. Not even a sharp cat would have woken up with it. I tried again, much more enthusiastically because the doors had opened. "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me!" With each "excuse me" I hardened my grip and shook her more and more, and with each try, my heartbeat rose and anxiety set in. People from the platform had begun to enter. If I wasn't quick, we would be locked inside. I tried again, shaking her by the arms and the shoulders, trying not to look at her open-mouthed state of Kumbharaness. Suddenly, a wave of something deep passed through me. I felt my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach. My grip on her loosened for a moment, and I clutched the metal bar instead. Horrific thoughts washed through my (now proven, over-imaginative) mind. The moment passed just as soon as it had come, and with new vigour, I shook her again, dropping all politeness. It seemed to work.

With a gasp, her mouth shut close, her eyes opened, and her head left its headrest, all at once.

"Come on, it's the last station," I said to her. It was all I could do to not take her hand and quickly lead her out.

"What?"

"This is the last station!" I said, using more animation than words. I wasn't sure she could understand me. She made to get up, and I finally left the coach. But that's not the end of the story. The good Samaritan in me stopped me from going further, and I turned around to look. She was walking out of the doors, clutching the bars for support. Her footsteps were uneven. I went back to her.

"Are you all right?"

She only looked around with a confused expression. She did not answer my question.

"Are you all right?" I repeated. "Where did you have to get down?" By then, it was clear that she was lost.

"Huh? Where have I come?" she said. Her eyes were bloodshot. I wondered how much time it would take her to be fully awake (and also how she would even manage office that day). I told her the name of the station and asked her again where she was supposed to get off. She named a station we had left about fifteen minutes ago.

"You can get in this same train. It will go back," I said, tempted to push her inside the still-open doors.

"Really?" she said, which made me wonder where her consciousness really was.

"Yes, yes... go quickly."

She shuffled towards the doors, paused a moment, and then turned to walk towards the other end of the train. (Possibly because, even in her disturbed state of mind, she was conscious of the fact that the coach was no longer women-only). But by that time I was quite late for work, so I left her to it. She was, at least, walking straight all by herself.

2. Babysitting in the metro

By now I have pretty much realized that what I have in my mind is hardly ever to be seen in reality. I actually sometimes believe that people would behave with manners and courtesy because I am a total stranger to them, and also because I'm not even saying anything to anybody. But I keep forgetting our awesome culture of brotherhood, which, apart from making people think they have rights to eavesdrop, look into other's messages, and stare shamelessly, also gives them this strange illusion that everyone else is their close relative, someone who could be asked to do things without thinking whether or not they want to. And sometimes those requests are just ridiculous.

It was an over-stuffed train, and I was feeling lucky that I had a seat (about the only positive thing about the location of my office). It's a different matter that I was being squeezed on both sides because people believe in the two-people-per-seat concept rather than how it should be. I tried flipping the pages of my book using only my fingers, because I could not move my arms. The ladies/women/girls on both sides of me were busy with their cell phones. My bag was somewhere near my feet, and my knees were being crushed by women standing stuck to the seats. There really was not an inch of breathing space.

From a station, some more women somehow squeezed in--which was accompanied by the oohs-and-aahs-and-ouchs of those inside--and managed to come near where I was sitting (which was in the middle of two doors, not even a corner). I could not see them, but I heard a loud woman speaking to her daughter-in-law (or maybe the crowd in general), about making space and adjusting a little boy. Inch by inch people moved, right in front of me, making space for a boy of about three, pushed by his grandmother. He stood in front of me. I could not avoid looking up. The grandmother asked us to make space for the boy.

My first and foremost thought was, "where?" And then since no one was getting up, with an audible sigh I slowly closed my book, and moved to stand up, wondering how on Earth would I get space to even stand. "No, no... keep sitting," said the grandmother. "Only make him sit with you." As was obvious, there was no possibility of even a three-year-old being 'adjusted', so I had to be the inevitable volunteer. I took the kid in my lap.

It would have been all right had I been left alone after that, but one, even if a kid looks small, he will be HEAVY, especially when he is asleep. Because he was so drowsy even when standing, that he shut his eyes and went to sleep as soon as I took him. And two, the others seemed to find this cute, so they simply sat staring at us, while I tried to keep a hold on my stuff, which I ultimately had to hand over to the girl next to me. For the next quarter of an hour, I shifted however possible to adjust with the kid's lolling head (which kept dropping to one side).

I'm glad it lasted only that much time. No wonder it was unexpected and funny, and I'm wondering how and why such things keep happening with me! I have two more stories to share, which I'll write and post as soon as I can. :) I also have a really cool update, which will also wait until the next post! Keep reading!

Metro Diaries #7: Sweet Revenge

Remember how I'm spending two hours at least in the metro train every day 'cept Sunday? (No? Why are you even here? Go read my previous posts first.) You thought I was done with metro posts? Have you ever been more wrong in your life or what! When you have to suffer (safar) for so long in the women-only coach, you're bound to have your mental peace shattered to bits. (Oh oh, there just broke out a high-pitched argument, as always, between a middle aged-older woman and a younger one, with the older woman, as always, trying to find 'space' and the younger one finally lashing out at her - "There is just no space! My size is such that I can fit anywhere, right? You're only creating trouble for others." Travels are interspersed with such amusements, sure.) Okay, perhaps not have mental peace shattered to bits, but they do make you clench your teeth so many times that your jaw bone gets weak and starts troubling you (true story. Who's going to compensate me for that? DMRC, or countless parents of these people?)

Anyway, while I had less time to travel or when I had friends to pass the time with, I stood well away from the seats. Who would bother about fighting to get a seat? But when there's nothing but early morning lethargy and a book to read and loads of time to stand, you can't really be so dense as to not look for a seat every day. If you don't, you might as well get your knees checked along with your jaw. So then I started looking for seats. That was when I was really initiated into the world of the seated and the seat grabbers.

Before I begin, let me take my revenge. You, Ms Red Sweater (such a glaring, tacky shade, too), you took the seat I was supposed to get by asking the aunty to shift in front of me where I was going to sit, and parking your bum into the now-empty slot in front of you, all the time acting as if it's nothing. You're one heck of a sinner, madam. And ugh. Your super red lipstick is a really gross shade.

The Seat Grabbers

Apart from the kind mentioned above, seat grabbers do the following:

(What luck. Just got a seat thanks to millions getting off at RC station, and sitting next to Ms Red Sweater. *minimizes brightness*)

1. Grabbers standing so close to the seated that they might as well be sitting on their knees (which could be another possible cause for early arthritis). There was one lucky day when I had a seat and it was the rush hour. I was absorbed in a book when I first felt something brushing my face. It was a lady's handbag, with the lady herself wedged in the space between my feet.

2. Sympathy gainers: (excluding real cases). Some people will try getting a seat by way of sympathy (apparently, it is is not dead). These are the people who make such innocent, tired faces that people feel sorry for them and automatically get up for them. Sometimes they'll look at a seated person with such a pleading look that when the person has to vacate the seat, they'll give it to no one but the sympathy gainer.

3. Aunties: Some of them would say stuff like, 'beta badon ko seat de do' or would just huff and pant so much that someone would give them their seats just so they don't look like sadists.

4. Centre of Attention: They're always at the centre of the doors on the platform. The logic (according to them) is that the lines on both sides are made up with fools who don't know how to grab a seat (or how important it is). They want to be the first to enter the coach to get a seat. They don't really give a fig to others. They'll blatantly flout all rules, and barge in as soon as the doors open even if they can see they're likely to collide with bulging tummys. (Not even belonging to women. Ugh!)

5. Those who let all traces of niceties vanish when they hurry to the seat everyone can see you are about to occupy (which takes you a couple of seconds because you don't want to seem like one of those people who're greedy for a seat). And when someone else grabs it right from under your nose, all you do is to try to maintain a calm face and pledge to take your revenge by writing about it (and them).

Ouch! (Added in haste: There are also those who come running to occupy the seat next to you and end up stamping on your foot.)

The Seated

Only one category comes to mind, thanks to recent interactions with them. There are people who won't budge from their seats until the door to their station opens!! OMG. I really think there's something wrong with these people. Why are they so insecure about seats? The other day, I got about half a bum's space to wedge myself in, and since I had 40 more minutes to go, I thought I might as well just sit on whatever's given. The next station was RC and an unbelievably thin girl went to the doors, leaving her space for me. It was so tight a space (made more difficult by the sad fact that I'm expanding at the rate of the Big Bang) that I was about to slide down. Half a minute passed and the two women on my sides did not even budge. (Fyi, when someone sits like this next to me, I shift as much is possible without getting on to another lap to give the newly seated as much space possible to sit comfortably.) The train stopped at the station, and as I was a centimetre away from sliding down, I thought of getting up, when something really weird happened. The woman on my right and her companion next to her got up to get down at the station where the train had stopped!!! Have people absolutely no sense? If they can SEE (heck, the whole coach could see) someone about to fall down, and you KNOW you're going to get down at just the next station, can't you manage to stay standing for two minutes? Good lord. I'm quite positive I lost any remaining dregs of hope for humanity then.

***

I've typed this in the metro while going to work. First, I have no time left for writing blog posts while I'm home. Second, I'll be too busy for the next couple of months, so please if you don't get a post, don't leave! (Honestly though, I'm saying it to make you feel important. It's not like you read or comment anymore, do you?)

PS- I do give my seat to people who really need it, but sometimes when you're tired and want to sleep and have been granted a nice seat because you travel so far, you really don't want to sympathise with others. Think about it, does anyone sympathise with you (unless you're fainting)?

(My laptop with a new motherboard and newly formatted still works like a sloth, so I'm not bothering with a picture for this post. Time is a rare commodity, people. You'll realize it one day.)

Kbye.

These days...

I'm going to write about how I have spent the past month of my life. That's also how the following ones are going to be like, if things go the same way, that is. If they don't, I hope it'll be better.

First, who the heck says that work life is fun? Perhaps they got the word wrong. Work life can be good or comfortable or exciting but 'fun' is just not the word! I like my job, really. Most of it anyway, if you keep aside the travel time and condition. I get to sit among people who are keen about books and dedicated in their jobs, and some of them know their jobs so well that I feel like I know nothing! 

Nevertheless, the new schedule is anything but comfortable. It is horribly, terribly trying and tiring. First off, it's a six-day work week. I had grown so accustomed to five days' work and take-work-from-home-any-day-you-feel-like that travelling just so far for six continuous days reduces my mind to near-zero (unfortunately, it has so far not had any reduction effect on the body) See? I don't even know what I'm writing here. It's only because I didn't think there was anything else (apart from writing a blog post) that would make me feel lighter. 

I mean, have you even paused to consider how arduous a task travelling so much in the metro would be? Sure, I don't have to change the train even once. BUT STILL! It's not even about the lack of rest one gets because one (that is, me) chooses to travel only in the women-only coach (because with so many women packed together, you cannot get a peaceful environment. Besides, I got to observe really exotic varieties too, but that's for another post). It's the horrible fact that I have to get down at a station in another and, pardon the honest expression, extremely-lacking-in-civic-and-feel-good-sense state, out of Delhi. I don't really hate Delhi as much anymore. :/ 

To begin with, I had two options--taking my own auto from one station, and taking a shared auto from another. Honestly, both are terrible in their own ways. How is one supposed to deal with that on an everyday basis, that too in the morning? Wait, I shouldn't be so pessimistic. I've been managing it so far, and I will manage it. Thank goodness for good people at the workplace who help during the afternoons! (God Bless You. May you never have to travel for work more than 15 minutes away)

Then there are the whole work days, which essentially leave me with barely four hours a day for myself, half of which are spent either eating (because I'm starved during evenings) or settling down to rest. For the rest of the two hours, there's the only program on TV I started watching but which has turned horrible so I don't watch it anymore, there's talking to people offline and online, and well, just staring into space and thinking about life and then preparing to sleep. I know, I could use that little time to do something exciting or useful like blogging (finally managed it after a month, eh?) or anything else. But most days are too mentally tiring to do anything except staring into space and thinking randomly. 

This is how I look like these days

Did you wonder why I didn't mention reading so far? Oh no, I'm not going to not mention it, because behold! The upside of travelling so much and among noisy women is that I can immerse myself into a book and ignore it all! Ha! You can't beat that kind of freedom (although it is sometimes beaten by the sheer number of women in the coach. No one cares about population explosion anymore). So I have actually gotten around to reading the books I never picked up in my leisure time, because it is a very clever way of forced reading. It goes like:

"Read this book or deal with the aunty who's been picking her nose. She's standing right beside you, too." 

Or

"Wouldn't you rather use all your focus trying to comprehend this excessively difficult piece of text than looking up and finding this made-up-like-a-toy girl reading 50 Shades of Grey on her phone?" (No offence to reading choices, but still. Seriously, woman?)

So really, there's little choice. In this time of a month, I managed to read:

1. (Wow. I actually had to hop on to Goodreads to see what I read) Roads to Mussoorie by Ruskin Bond (you know why)

2. What Katy Did by Susan Coolidge (A children's classic; bought months ago from a book-flea market)

3. Moonfleet by J.M. Falkner (A children's classic I had been meaning to read for YEARS! It's wonderful. Find my review here)

4. The Metamorphosis and Other Stories by Franz Kafka (of which The Metamorphosis was the best, followed by umm... maybe three more stories that I liked. The rest were, for the time being, mildly interesting. No wonder people called his texts 'crazy' and incomprehensible. It still takes a crazy mind to decipher his meaning)

5. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (Oh boy. Do read this one. Just DO it.)

6. The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame (Again, a children's classic I'd had for a couple of years. I remember always putting it off, so had I not had this job, this book would have stayed unread for a loooong time)

7. Dealing with Dragons by Patricia Wrede (A children's book AGAIN! It's about an unprincessy princess who chooses to be a dragon's princess, enjoys working for her dragon, deals with wizards and gets into fights with them, and finally saves the day.)

My current read is called A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson, which would have remained unread for years had I not dedicated this metro time to it. It's anything but short, and anything but a light read. Sure, it's definitely fun in the way it's written--the author's mentioned some of the popular and great contributors to science, and provided details of how someone slouched so much on the sofa that his butt touched the floor or how someone was called a buffoon by another popular guy. Of course I don't remember all those names now. The thing I did learn, however, was that there have been people thoroughly devoted to their work and have discovered such amazing things. What am I even doing in my life? Seriously need to give it a thought. I also learned that if you do find out something amazing, don't be a shy-baby or be secretive, because someone else will either steal your ideas when you are dead (or alive), or will discover it a century later. Then the world (and school textbooks) will remember and credit them for what you did before, only because you thought keeping quiet was decent manners.

Coming back to my month, nothing else that is exciting has happened, except:

1. Looking at three books I had worked on, in print. And what a beautiful print, too! :D

2. A 12-hour trip to Agra, of which 8 were spent sitting in the car. And then realizing that Agra looks good only in history textbooks.

3. Riding a motor-bike just a few hours ago! I didn't get it in the first attempt (in which I ended up riding it as if it were a camel. It just did. not. go. smoothly!), but looking at G getting it right in the first attempt, I made a second, much successful one. 8|

4. That's all. I can't really spend the last half hour before I sleep using my brains even further. They're already exhausted today, thanks. 

I also wanted to mention a couple of things I have not been liking these days. They're more like revelations or things that I have known but those that are annoying me all the more now. One is the obvious dependence on and love for social media, but let's just not get into it right now. The other is the apparent breaking up of some friendships with the concerned people acting like nothing's wrong, while it's quite obvious because we haven't spoken in... months now. It's annoying but it's also sad. What can we do, though? To each his own. If I had the time and mental space I'd have done something about it, but guess what, I can't, and it turns out that I feel like I don't even want to. There's also an age-limit for doing and accepting drama in one's life, I think. 

Anyway, there's a fever and I've been sitting typing this out and I've to get up early for work. Ciao!!

Life of a Social Recluse

Hello, dear blog! I haven't written in you since ages, and I realized that I would miss out transcribing life updates if I stayed away any longer. There hasn't been much in action, but at the same time, life has never been as good. Okay, it has, but this kind of good has come after a long time. I've had such a change in perspective on a lot many things, it feels like I've learned so much more in the past few months than in the past few years, and that I'm finally, 'living'.

Anyway, what I do these days is:

1. Spend hours each day excluding weekends at work, mostly reading, writing, reading some more and hoping against hope that my eyesight is not affected. The evenings are spent chilling at home, talking to friends, visiting relatives or the market or the park, reading websites and articles or for the most part, browsing the shelves for something new and interesting to read. Thankfully, I've managed to collect quite a bit. That reminds me, I've had people remark how I manage to get those books. What do you mean how I've managed? It is very much possible if you refrain spending on ridiculous restaurant food, if you don't over indulge in shopping, if you basically prefer books over anything else. It is very much possible.

2. Read different kinds of books, experimenting with genres I never tried before, and reading between the lines. This is one of the new things that has happened, for I no longer read just the words to get what has been written, but almost naturally, also look at the author's intention, writing style, phrases used, metaphors, character sketches, etc etc. I say naturally because I've been given a grand, vast view of the inside world of books, and it makes me just so curious to get to the depth of words! 

*_*

3. Getting an insider's view of the publishing industry has made me very happy indeed. It's not all glamour or as perfect as the final results a.k.a books are, but it gives me a lot of satisfaction. To be a part of the process that once made me very happy as a kid, is amazing. True, it gets dull and dreary every now and then. You get bored, doubt yourself, sometimes multiple times a day, get frustrated when things go slow, but it can be endured if you always have a larger goal in your mind, and you know that the dullness of the present is anyway important to help you achieve those goals. 

It sometimes gets sad too, when you realize that the things you consider sacred are not treated as well in the places where they are produced. There is a lot of work, and people get frustrated. Businesses need to earn money, and sometimes it feels like it is only for money that books get traded, which of course is not true, but it just seems like it sometimes. What is necessary is to stick to your own beliefs, treat books as sources of knowledge/wisdom/entertainment/whatever at your own end, and do your work to the best of your ability. It is also sad to see hundreds of people writing books. That's not bad, actually, but the fact that they are mostly overconfident people who already call themselves authors before being published, believe their work to be a masterpiece while it is indeed, for want of a better word, trash, is quite disheartening. It used to bug me a lot earlier, but now since I've grown used to it, I feel somewhat emotionless most of the times. But it still annoys me sometimes. People are seriously deluded.

4. Traveling in the metro has become ... monotonous and irritating for the most part. I so wanted to do a separate metro diaries post, but I don't think it would be well-deserved. Ever since the first women-only coupe started, I've always traveled in that, except for a few times. The trouble is that I'm not the only one who made that decision, so the first coach is always excessively crowded. You'd think that stuck between women (as a girl yourself) would be way better than being among creepy-guys-who-think-a-girl-in-their-coach-is-a-rarity (don't you go berating me for generalizing or whatever, because there are a lot of such creepy weirdos). Anyway, you might be right, but only partially. 

Now just imagine all these as
women, with cell phones and
earphones plugged in.

First, women have little regard for other women. I might be killed for this statement, but at least when it comes to traveling in the metro, it is true. There are good Samaritans too, but you would have to agree that: 

- A majority of women travelers will NOT budge more than a couple of inches when you need to pass them to get to the door because you have to get down at the next station. 

- You will find some who fix themselves at the doors, completely disregarding the crowd behind them. Incidentally, the fixture doesn't need to get down at the next ten stations at least. It just doesn't want to literally gel with the crowd. And to add to that, they have the audacity to look angry when you unknowingly push them a little while getting off. Sometimes I do not even push unknowingly, but it has no effect whatsoever. 

- Apart from Rajiv Chowk or other major stations with guards overseeing the queues on platforms, people will never learn that they are supposed to stand on the sides and leave space in between for those who wish to get out. In fact, if you are the ones standing on the side, you would be the last person to board the train.

- God save you during the rush hour! You would be squeezed in from all sides, your arms would be coiled around bulging waists of at least four different women, your nose would be desperately seeking a bit of fresh air, you would be assaulting your toes to stand a little higher to breathe in right at the air conditioners, your hair would be a foot or two away from your body, and the steady brush of hard cloth at your ankles would make you feel secure that your bag has not yet been washed away by the sea of jostling women. 

- There is something incredibly putting off about having cell phones in hand. Even when there is no space to stand. Even when other people are suffocating and struggling to stand on their own two feet, some people demand extra space for their cell phones, because they cannot bear to part with those even till the distance of their jeans' pocket. Urghhh!

- There has hardly been a metro ride where I haven't had generous intake of someone's gastric misadventure. Even in a fifteen minute ride.

5. I've taken to baking cakes! Yay! The fact that till date, the first two cakes were entirely flawless (one with eggs, one eggless) and the others were not-so-great experiments, doesn't matter as much because whoever talked about baking being such a stress-free activity was so right. There is something very relaxing about baking a cake. I was at first alarmed looking at the ingredients, going all 'Whoa. SO totally unhealthy', but once in a while is okay, I guess (or else all those with a sweet tooth would murder me anyway). 

Trust me, this was the most delicious experiment ever!

6. Feeling that gut wrenching feeling whenever I find a great children's book, because I don't know, I feel just. so. drawn to them! They're the best kind of books. Ever.

7. Making lists and lists of work and interesting stuff to do, to take my mind off life's lower aspects. Getting out of touch with some people, hearing ridiculous gossip in family gatherings, feeling put off with Facebook but not being able to get off it entirely, not having enough clouds during weekends for photography, to name a few. I've tried writing here a lot many times, but they've always ended up as drafts. I was a little peeved that I wasn't getting the time and energy to write here, but then as a friend helped me realize:

- I'm still working towards making a career in something I believe in, and love.

- I am anyway too blessed to feel jealous of anyone.

- This is my blog that I started purely for my own self, not to make anyone read it. So what if readers don't respond? The 2-3 people who matter, do. And that is really what one needs, innit? :) 

PS- Did you realize the post has nothing to do with the title? I might call myself a social recluse, but the real story behind the title is just this - type anything random if you don't get an idea within ten seconds. Tada!!

Whoever you are, there's only one you!

Since I'm not any scientific researcher, I can't say things for anyone but myself. Plus, I'm too lazy overworked to actually search for similar findings, so I'll simply stick to my own observation. Surrounded by media at all times, usually not having enough understanding, or even motivation, to look at oneself in seclusion, we are very much susceptible to getting into the mindset of what constitutes 'normal'. It's not defined by ourselves, but by what we see around us. Mostly we say we agree with it, so that's also our own perception of how things are. But haven't you ever thought just about yourself? Seeing yourself in isolation and getting scared at how you 'actually' look at things? Because it is scary, the idea that what you really feel is so different and strange and unreal, yet that's the thing that makes you feel best.

However, like always, that is not what this post is about! There were just a few instances and moments when I thought that perhaps, what happens with me is something that can happen only with me. Those things aren't what you would have anyone else say, 'That happened with me too!' Maybe they did, but to me, at that moment, it felt like I'm just one in all the people in the world. Someone who has something that no one else can have. And that's the thing, isn't it? The beauty, the excitement, everything lies in small details. :')

#1: That's what is on my wrist

Ignoring the small (but awesome) readership of this blog, I'd ask, is there anyone else in the country who would have a silver and black clasp-oval-bangle, exactly like the one I have? Like the one I wear on special days, because it is cute and specially bought for me by dad when he was in a random local market in Dushanbe (Tajikistan). Let's make it easier: at any given time, how many girls in India would be wearing such a thing, brought by their dad from that particular market, just for them? There were no duplicates, according to what I was told, so the possibility of anyone else with the same situation and treasure is close to zero, right? Isn't that something to make anyone feel special and unique?

#2: That's what I'm reading

The probability of a girl reading a book called The Girl With All The Gifts in a metro train in the morning would also be very low. That one time when I realized it, I am sure I was the only one who experienced that moment, the only one to be reading that book in that metro. Or perhaps the only one among all the metro trains that day. 

#3: That's what I know

I'm most certain about this one! I'm the only one who knows stories from my grandmom's childhood: certain details from her life as a kid in Rawalpindi (in present day Pakistan), her life as a refugee in Delhi right after the partition, her relation with her siblings. Discussing it with her children, I realized no one else knows it in as much detail as I do, which leaves me to be the only living person who's aware of those stories. Is that brilliant or what? *_*

#4: That's what I call branding!

Did you know the origin of the word 'brand'? Ages ago when there were slaves, and perhaps even now with farm animals, permanent tattoos got stamped onto the skin to 'brand' them as belonging to a particular person/owner. In the present world, we swear by different brands. A couple of days ago, I was ironing one of my jackets. Realizing that I need to check the temperature, I put my hand on the jacket to see how warm it already was, so I could accordingly adjust the level in the iron. It seemed overly hot, if the way the jacket's logo on the lapel got imprinted on my palm was any indication. I'm not kidding. It's been three days, and you can still see the tiny dots going around in two curves. On my palm! Now who in the world would have that happened to them? o.O 

These are just some recent examples to prove how you don't really need to get your brains eaten up, wondering how to seem different. Stop trying. You're already the only piece of you in this world, unless you've resorted to cloning or getting illegal echoes made. Probably whatever you're doing right now (except reading this blog. It's not only you who reads this -_-) has something in it that no one else in the world would have. Feel special already, dude! ^_^

---

Update: I'm so exhausted that it's just the idea of having written a blog post today that's keeping me motivated. It's a Sunday, and I spent the entire day doing some or the other work, the most important of which I haven't even begun! Where do I even start explaining? Probably for the first time in my life, I'm being SO busy (the initial work-time when you get over-excited and take on more work than possible for anyone), that it's just so weird. I don't know how the days pass and I have no idea when I would be able to just chilllllll with a book on a weekend! Speaking of which, I'm not even getting an opportunity to read whatever I want to! Can you believe that? It's because I presently have three things to take care of. All of which require me to read and write and think and be as creative as possible. Plus, all of them have strict deadlines. If that's not mentally exhausting, I don't know what is! I like all of it too, but all I ask is for one day. :| 

I guess I should behave and not fret over it. In fact, the only thing I should be doing right now is to quickly post this and start working, considering the deadline is tomorrow! More than that, I should totally stop thinking about how I just want to sleep. Focus, focus, FOCUS! 

Metro Diaries #5: Metrocious!

I don't think there is a limit to my weirdness. Or impulsiveness. First off, I switched on the laptop for some work. Then I thought 'let me make a random post about nothing and everything happening'. At the last second as the cursor started blinking in the title bar, my index finger found the 'M' and my mind (without even asking me! -_- ) decided to write something on the Metro travels. It's been too long since I've talked about it, yes, but I've already talked about it so much. But no. Since I'm not doing the right kind of meditation taught by a young prof in college, what he calls as transcendental meditation, that allows our soul to calm and control the mind, my mind is squiggling free and not just listening to me. Fine. Whatever you say Mindey. (That's the name. Mindey. :P Hey P! How d'you find this name? *laughing out loud*)

I'll "try" making this a short post but you never know with me. :P 

The past few weeks have been quite weird when it comes to my Metro travels, if we talk about my near-zombieness when I'm in the Metro. Maybe because it's become too routine, even when half of the days I can be found pacing and running in a very PT-Usha-will-get-a-complex way. It's okay dudes. If it hadn't been for all the rushing, I wouldn't have been as fit as I'm now. Nor would the Metro aunties get to enjoy live entertainment as they see me dramatically take deep breaths and drinking water and coughing and letting my bag slip to the floor with a thud as I finally board the train. (I hope you did not imagine me like that. I was kidding. I'm not that dramatic. At least on some soulless days I'm not.)

But for the most part, it's routine, even the rushing. Fortunately, a morning crowd or technical problems are not all that routine, though they're more frequent than I would have liked. For instance, that day when we had an end-semester exam and I very conveniently decided to skip the morning class so I could sleep in a little, have a clear head for an exam I hadn't read a word for, and go to college leisurely. Of course, I was still mysteriously ten minutes later than the 'should be' time, and got a message of foreboding while huffing and panting and climbing the stairs of my station, announcing an impending technical difficulty in the system looming ahead. Even though that paper was kind of useless, I still needed to pass it well (because under no circumstances what-so-ever can I come to study here once I'm finished with MBA). And being late would not be good! 

The platform was jampacked and however much of a SuperGirl I am, it made me experience a minor panic attack. There could be no way I would be able to board a train in this situation. I mean, it was pretty evident there hadn't been a train there in ages. There was no clue as to when it'd come next. There were hordes of people tightly strung together on the platform. Total scare-material. 

I made my way towards the first coach-platform and my heart sunk even lower, because of course most women prefer the first coach (and who wants to glide and slide among guys in an insane crowd? *shuddering* at the thought). Although I did get to learn crucial life lessons that day. 

# 1: Patience helps: I'm almost always really patient. That day, if it hadn't been for the exam, I would have been even more patient, but still, I was quite patient nevertheless and decided to not follow dad's advice (over the phone, near-hyperventilation when I conveniently told him I also have an exam) to take an autoricksha instead. Well, for one, my college's too far and two, I don't know the way via road, apart from a vague guess. And I would so not be travelling in that vehicle on my own -_-

After about 15 minutes, a train came in and the tangible, collectible sigh of relief and pumped up hormones was so visible that I could have captured it in a camera, if only my phone's camera worked. Of course, being able to get in that train was an unimaginable thought. One, we could see people's bodies glued to the train's interior and so many inside that it was a clear breach of the maximum capacity of the train. But *sigh*, this happens. As I spied the doors from a distance, hoping against hope that soon more trains would follow, I saw people tumbling out and breathing in deeply, as if the polluted Delhi smog was heaven. Actually, to them it might just have been. Barely two people squished inside and clung to the other women, barely saving their backs from being hit by the closing doors. 

People went back to their usual stance once the train was gone. Staring at others, staring at their smartphones, staring unseeingly in the distance, standing on tiptoe and leaning forward over the edge of the platform hoping to see a sliver of silver in the distance. I went back to Whatsapping my folks back in college, updating them about the 'situation' and asking them to plead with the teacher on my behalf, just to let me in somehow. It was half an hour past now. Another train rolled in. Just as I heard a group-shriek, I looked to the right to find females from all ages, actually tumbling out of the coach, slipping and then falling over each other. Some aunties had agony pained over their faces and I felt bad for them, but some young ones found it to funny and fought to hold back snickers :P

I missed three more trains before I realized I could not stand there all day and planted myself in the front-crowd and waited for the next to arrive. This seemed relatively more free and as the doors opened and a couple of women stepped outside gratefully, I glided got pushed inside and realized that it wasn't really as free as it seemed. Arms pinned to my sides, my face was assaulted with n number of different hairdos, the most irritating of which is the high ponytail (and tends to be sported by those with spiky, rough hair!). 

# 2: You don't know which is worse in a crowd: stuck among both genders and breathing in foul smells or being squeezed to asphyxiation among all women? The second one maybe. Being all-women gives everyone the freedom to glue themselves to others, to make 'space' for aunties and girls-who-act-like-aunties, to take your hair away from you, and leaving their chunni stuck to your bag. Somehow I managed to inform dad I've boarded the train and kept the fone in an inside pocket for double safety. The notes I had managed to squeeze in with me rested somewhere near my thighs, dangerously close to getting torn and stamped on. I found myself a metre away from where I was originally standing as the train passed the stations and women pushed inside with amazing power and prowess. You thought there isn't any more space? Ha ha. Can't you see that inch? You sure can 'adjust' an aunty there!

But the first coach isn't all that bad. I witnessed a sort of social dynamics and behavior example when a healthy, bold-looking woman stood near the doors and refused to budge when those at the platform tried squeezing themselves inside and retorted back with an appropriately worded and strong response, thus making us poor things stuck beside chameli-oil laden women breathe enough to survive. 

# 3: It's always okay: No matter how late you are getting, there's no point getting stressed over your situation, even when you might be regretting not having made a will yet, it'll be okay. You'll reach for your exam half an hour late and the teacher will say you'll not get extra time, you'll see your classmates leaving class way before the allotted time ends and you decide that the exam might not be that hard after all and end up writing it coolly, leaving 40 minutes before it was 'supposed' to end! Ha! There's nothing that disastrous that can happen, so even when you're so tightly squashed among unidentifiable women that you might just as well take both your feet off the ground and you still wouldn't fall or budge, look around at people's faces. Seriously. Change my name if it doesn't make you laugh. ;)

***

PS- Random advice: Don't ask mom to give you something when you're hungry. If she makes pasta, there will be more mattar and corn than pasta. If you ask for namkeen, she'll give you a bowl of sprouts with a little bit of namkeen barely visible in it. -_-

PPS- Don't write such ^ lines before tasting those sprouts. They would be yummylicious! And yes, she'd also get a bowl of just namkeen along with it. ^_^

'Something'

This was supposed to be an awesome post, the kind you feel like writing when you haven't written anything in a long time and you feel like you owe your lovely blog at least one amazing piece of writing, especially as it's always been there for you for your random musings at random times and you seem to forget it when you get 'too busy'. This was supposed to be something mind-numbing, earth-shattering, maybe about something so amazing that it'd draw everyone on the planet to go read it, maybe it could have gone viral, or maybe not, but it was definitely supposed to be 'something'. I admit. I'm still at a loss. This has happened before, in a much milder intensity and I always blame no one but myself for the lack of 'putting down thoughts as well as they deserve to be put down'. I still wouldn't blame anything, even though I am very much tempted to put in 'college' as a major reason. It might be, but I just don't care. I've always been a silent rebel. You give me something that threatens the things I love, I would mentally block it all and never even think the way you want me to. This is why I always dismissed those ideas when other people said they're 'too busy with work' to do the things they like. I thought you could be forever busy and still do it. "I" was doing it, so it's possible. 

But maybe it didn't occur to me until it happened. What if the work or the mental pressure of the sheer amount of nonsense you're subjected to everyday, all things that go against what you as a person believe in, how much effort it takes on your part to grasp any bit of your own beliefs and yourself so that those external forces don't make you lose yourself, drains you of any energy you might have left. What if, despite the 'materialistic' things going right, a nice college and subjects you might find interesting, you still feel horrible dragging yourself everyday? Hoping you'd like the exchanges between people? I thought I could manage it well, but maybe I was wrong. I mean, it's okay. It isn't as horrible as it is for other people maybe, but I'm just looking at what "I" deserve and these nonsense feelings are certainly not part of the package. I'll always fight for what I deserve and what I like, however much these things try to change all that. What would happen at the most? I wouldn't write a nobel-winning piece, I wouldn't have many people commenting, I would lose out on a few readers.

Does that matter to me? At a deeper level, yes it does. I do want to write amazing stuff, things I actually have in me and I know I can. I do wish I get back those readers who said they love what I wrote here. I know no one's gone, really. I seemed to be absent myself. But then it shouldn't matter as much and maybe it does not. Maybe I am more materialistic than I thought, but not as much as I'm thinking, either. This is not 'blogging' for me, it's writing. And I can live with anything but not without this ability to put things down like this. If there's anything I would be willing to rigorously fight for, it's my reading and writing, for without these I'd lose myself. I don't know much about anything apart from these two. What would I be if I am not able to make myself happy with these as well? Nothing. My college degree would hold no value. It would be, in the Indian 'job market' for which you're trained since college, made into machines and made to believe how working nonstop and relentlessly can bring you 'success', but not for me.

So even if this isn't an insanely makes-you-hyperventilate-kind-of-awesome post, one that I was aiming at, it's okay. Because it's just me and this blog and friends who understand. I know I could write that kind of a thing and I'll do it sometime, maybe without even realizing it. But for now, this is really satisfying and I'm happy. Y'know, the reason I feel like it's okay is more so because I do have crore things to do and I'm leaving all that for this. Tee hee! 

A really common quote thanks to social networks,
but it's awesome and true! :)

***

I had to ask. Did you know that our brains are actually not built for multitasking? I started reading this book last night, called 'Mastermind: How to think like Sherlock Holmes' and the second page in the Prelude said this and I went all, "Oh My God! Really? WHY!" Because yes you guessed it, despite having read hundreds of texts, I did not know this thing that my friends seemed to know already o.O I mean, when was it when I was first told how we are "supposed" to multitask to be able to be more awesome? Class 11? Yeah maybe. Definitely in the first year of college and I even remember proudly telling my seniors how good I am at multitasking, during some dumb interview for a dumb college society I was really enthu about (told you, I was completely mental back then). The point is, if because of multitasking, quoting the book, "our memory decreases and our general well-being suffers a palpable hit", why are we told it's something we should be good at? Hello? 

Thank you Sherlock. Now I'm really going to
read your books that I've had since childhood :P

This is why I seriously love books! Because they tell me what is right! People these days, just. can't. be. trusted. I know, it's because that is what 'the market demands'. Fast life, quick decisions, faster profit making. Jeez. But whatever. After reading, books and writing, I'm in love with my brain. However clumsy it might make me, I still am overly protective of its abilities. And if in some real life job interview they ask me if I'm good at multitasking, I'm going to quote this fact to them. Did you know Sherlock Holmes was an awesome observer because of mindfulness? And not multitasking? This seems like just a small fact but I've been hyperventilating about it since last night! It's like those two sentences attacked what I had been thinking since the past *counts on fingers* 5 years. OMG! 

I had to tell. Not any secret, you looking-for-gossip people! I must have mentioned how I love Mint Lounge, the Saturday edition of the Mint newspaper? God, I don't even read the main paper all week, which I should, MBA and all. But anyway, Saturdays? I so look forward to them! It's not business-y or economic-y, but there are views on related things and non-related things, all of them awesome. I don't know. I don't read it all and some Saturdays I don't find much that I'd like to read, but it always gives me that ecstatic feeling. I especially love this column called 'My Daughter's Mum' by Natasha Badhwar. I am not a mom so technically I couldn't have been able to relate to the stories, but I always can. And more than that I always feel so warm and emotional while reading those, whatever aspect of family life she writes on. 

I mean, it's Monday today. I picked up the paper on Saturday evening, when I got home and kept it on my bed along with some books (that really have nowhere else to go. Someone please donate me a shelf?). It was there all Sunday, being shifted from one room to the next as I looked for an opportune moment to read it. It was back on the bed at night. It's underneath my laptop on the dining table right now, where I left Aakar Patel's article on 'Why everything is not the government's fault' mid-way because I got a call from a mast friend and then I felt like writing. I'm always reading it like this, keeping it for a comfortable time because I don't wish to be disturbed and feeling all breathless while reading it. It's just a paper and I wouldn't even remember most of it maybe, but that's just how it affects me. :')

I need your help. To whoever reached here, I'm working on a live project involving opening up of a campus bookstore in our campus. Like a Bond, I took up the responsibility of looking after the inventory. So you know, I'm supposed to think of what would the bookstore actually sell. Important work, you see? So you gotta help me because yessss, I am very close to the deadline, so close that I can't even tell or else you'd think how BIG a procrastinator someone can be. Just know that you're supposed to reply maximum by tomorrow. :P Hey, I have done my homework, I'm just looking for more suggestions. So you're supposed to do this: Imagine you're in college and there's a bookstore in the campus. What would you like the bookstore to have for you, apart from academic books? (Unfortunately, they have to be stocked :P ) Would you like the general kind of Fiction that's available in normal bookstores? Is there something special you'd like to have? Any sort of merchandise? I'm not asking you to think like a business person, okay? Just as a student, what do you think you'd like a campus bookstore to have? 

If someone is very much interested in helping, please email me! If you've got small ideas, please comment. I promise you awesome posts in the future! I do have a list of posts ready for writing, y'know? ;) Till then, hasta pronto! And "muchas gracias" in advance :P (I'm learning Spanish too, you know that. The teacher gave me an awesome idea of having a blog in Spanish. After once laughing it off, I did think, how awesome would that be? It's just the purrfect way to learn the language! :D )

Metro Diaries # 4: Back to Square One

It's been more than four years now that I've been travelling by the metro trains in Delhi almost every day. Back during my previous college days (oh how much I miss you!) when I was more fun because I had more fun and everything was more fun, I had a lot of experiences to share and I did those in my Metro Diaries 1,2 and 3. Then life changed gears and the past one year I took the opposite route in the metro. It was still the metro but it wasn't much fun because first, it was a relatively less-crowded route and two, it just wasn't fun. Hopefully seeing how I had a dearth of metro experiences to share with awesome readers over here, God made my college shift to the original, proper campus and yay! I had that old route back, the one with far more interesting and many people than before, one where I had at least 45 minutes of metro travel one way! Not that I love standing squished among people I don't even know, but it does give me a lot to see, right? Considering how I love people-watching, trying to understand what their stories might be, it's a lot more fun. And unlike before I get to travel with a few classmate-friends, so sometimes there's even more masala to observe. ;)

So when my not-so-enthusiastic-except-for-metro-and-interesting-campus second year started, there was this one time when I was coming back home with only one more classmate-friend for company, a friend who takes some other route, so essentially for the metro ride, I was solo. This route is almost the double of the one in my previous college and also includes changing lines and well, you guys know me. :P Reaching the platforms, the friend asked me which route would take her to the right station. Naturally, I felt so bond-like while spying on the map, looking for her station. Having found that, I directed her to the right line, said an enthusiastic goodbye and started going in the other direction. She looked confused and asked me if we were going the right way. 'Of course!' I said, pointing out her station at the map. That is where you go! 'And', I said pointing my thumb to the opposite platform, 'that's my route'. Still looking uncertain, she went off and I took the other train, feeling all contented. After all, how many times did people ask me for metro advice? Almost everyone knows how I'm so clueless about metro routes. So much that it's slightly insulting. :|

I was feeling kind of 'free', especially since I was riding solo. Not that I don't like company, but I feel more at peace alone. And so I immersed myself in my awesome thoughts and time started rolling. A couple stations passed and with a jolt, I heard that recorded female telling me I'm reaching a station I was sure I hadn't been to the past week! Yes, I'm usually lost but I do recall the names of stations we pass through! Trying to look nonchalant, because rule number one when you get lost is don't look like you're lost, I scanned the map and saw how wonderful a friend I am for sending her to the right route, and not looking for my own station, assuming obviously I'll take the other route (but why?? Why did I make such an assumption? o.O ) when the fact of the matter was that my station was also on the same route. -_- I thought I'd always check the route after that but you know when you're with the rest, you just assume you're going in the right direction and so you don't get to know if you know the route unless you travel solo again.

Pic courtesy: Google and a previous Metro Diaries post :P

Anyway, moving on, in the crowd-management department, things are still the same like before, although if I talk about the women-only compartment, I can put on a safe bet that it has become absolutely worse. Not that people are becoming crazier, but I personally believe if so many females in varying degrees of distress (what else?) and mood swings are stuck together, there is bound to be something like a lava popping out of a volcano every now and then. Most of the time it's entertaining to watch and since I'm awesome at being inconspicuous and keeping out of others' way, I can think of incidents to write about from a relatively safe distance. I have to admit though, that women in the first compartment can be arrogant, heartless and sometimes downright cruel. You think you want a seat? You think you can make any lady who's parked her butt on a seat make some 'space' for you? You gotta take a reality-check-medicine! I think after their boisterous and always-bouncing-in-the-train kids, women love their seats the most. The first coach is definitely better in the mornings as compared to the general ones in terms of what kind of smells your nose has to deal with in a crowd, because no offence, but the general ones are too suffocating just because some people don't seem to like perfumes. But at the same time, it is far easier to move around in a general coach than the first one.

Women women!

Because when you're a bunch of early twenties people (hey, I'm the youngest *coolest expression*) and you board the train from different stations, it's not that you always seem to have those cool mind-connections like you have with some best friends, so you take some time moving around and gathering at one place. If you have to move in a general coach, you just have to mouth innumerable 'Excuse Me's and people would shift to make space for you to pass. I noticed a difference once while I was moving from the general one to the first coach. Those guys make way for you to pass once you start walking, sometimes you don't even need to say Excuse Me. As soon as I entered the first coach and said my first Excuse Me, I realized women are just... women. I don't know if it's because there are no guys around or what, but you just ask them to shift and you get a look that can kill. It's as if you're asking them for ransom or something. They wouldn't-just-move! Most of them would have those irritating headphones blaring cheap Bollywood songs in their ears and so they can't even hear your polite Excuse Mes. You try to nudge them and make your own way and jeez! Just pray you don't bump into a walking-talking-firecracker. The other day a commotion started in a crowded metro, some place where I with my average height couldn't even see, between two women. One of them was accusing the other of deliberately sticking and leaning on to her. o.O For Heaven's sake, it was so full that you couldn't even place both your feet together! Although if you find someone who, despite being over-super-closely stuck with random women, looks amused as she's being jostled from place to place or merely having her upper body oscillate to and fro as the train stops and moves, that would be me. I think if we can't escape it, why not enjoy it? ;)

And that's where a recent, most-mention-worthy incident comes into picture. I was once again traveling solo, now completely at ease with the route. I'm not really that dense, you know. One month of the same route does leave an impression and so my brain knows where it's taking me. Anyway, as I reached the holy mother of all stations where you get a real glimpse of the reproduction capabilities of Delhites (err.. I mean you get to see so many people, like so so so many people, the burgeoning population :P), I tried making myself as small and thin as possible to be able to reach the relative safety of the first coach. The platform wasn't very crowded that day. As I slowed down to stand in line, I caught sight of a familiar looking girl looking curiously at me, with that slightly squnity, uncertain expression as if she's trying to recognize me and as we stood looking at each other, we broke into smiles as I recognized her as my childhood schoolmate! I mean, we saw each other after *calculates on fingers* eight years! Whoa! :D The train arrived and I moved into line with her. She got on the train first. I followed. Just that I didn't really follow like normal people do.  

While I was stepping into the coach, I felt my right slipper slipping, but like the lost case I am, I didn't even bother. And the result being I realized I was right-foot-barefoot when I fully stepped onto the train. Turning around, looking for the lost slipper (how genius-ly did they name slipper a 'slipper' -_- ) on the platform didn't have any positive effect and within seconds as my heart jumped to my throat in a familiar 'uh oh', I realized my slipper had slipped from the gap and into the tracks! I stood there dumbstruck and then started looking for my new-found-after-8-years friend, who hadn't yet witnessed my Cinderella story and was standing at a distance! I called out to her, more like beckoned to her and told her what had happened. Through actions! I mean! I was standing inside the train with one slipper with a thousand ladies looking on and I didn't even know where the other one went! The friend was even more shocked than I was and just stood there staring at me like I was some hugely interesting item! Then the doors clicked closed and the lady standing by them said to me, "You know, if you had got down and asked the guard, he could have took it out and you could have taken the next train." 

I sometimes don't understand how can some women be such geniuses. Was she watching my Cinderella moment with interest to blog about it? I mean yes, even at that moment my heart said 'blog it!' but of course my head was more concerned about my present state. And my friend wasn't helping either. So now as we stood there, my friend looking at me so shocked as if she'd done something to me herself and I in my new fashion-trend-setter mode, one slipper on and one foot barefoot, I felt this gush of some funny emotion. I realized how it's not really that bad. I mean, what could be worse? I'd have lost both of them? Many people go barefoot. No, not in trains exactly, that would be a first, but still. People would look, they might laugh but that'd be it. And so I felt so amused about my own klutziness and the way some of them stared at me like I was so amusing to watch (well, I must have been. How many times do you see a girl in a train with one slipper on and the other missing?). The other time I spent trying to make my friend feel relaxed, consoling her that I'm actually okay and kind of used to such stuff. And that I'd actually have something fun to write about! :P It felt weirdly fun as I hopped out of the coach at my station and held my head up and walked down the stairs. Okay, I did see where I'm walking because stepping on gross stuff barefoot would have been hugely unpleasant and a deterrent to my awesome mood. But anyway, I had asked my dad to come take me! :P 

I couldn't have really been that Bond-like and walked all the way to the parking to get Scoot, like that. And that lane is cluttered with gross stuff that gets even more gross during rains. Yuck. So when like dad suggested (because really, it wouldn't have even crossed my awesome mind otherwise), I took the elevator and went downstairs where my dad just started laughing. Right there sitting on his scooter looking at me walking like that. I mean, seriously. What's up with parents these days?

So now that I usually have my friends with me, we do have our own share of metro-fun. We're civilized, all right, just that we get so engrossed in our own talks that sometimes the whole coach could take a learning or two about the stock market fluctuations or learn the verb conjugations in Spanish. Excluding me, people really have loudspeakers installed in their throats. There are numerous fun-instances like the one time it was just us, three girls and while at the station watching a train roll in, we suddenly decided we'd be taking this one. I thought it was ridiculous because we were a million miles away from the train then, but the other two just said, 'Run!' and took off and so naturally I had to follow. Dodging people, skitting across the floor trying not to bump into random bouncy stomachs (ew. That even sounds so ew. I've become so ew!), we actually managed to get inside the train, that too in the first compartment! That was when we were so tired that we flopped down on the floor itself (yeah, it's not allowed but where are you supposed to place three tired-from-running young girls who've got a long way to go?) and that was also the day we realized how huge the world might seem to a tiny animal or creature. Because you know, people do look absolutely weird and big from that angle. And then when some loser girls came in suddenly with a crowd and talked to us in a mean voice for we were sitting (till then the coach was empty. It was not yet full with that mean girl and her baraat, because we don't really take up space if there's anyway a space crunch), we had a non-verbal haughty conversation with her. And then when we saw she'll get down at the same station as one of my friends, we coached her as to how she should walk out, making sure to bump into that mean girl and then run off! :P Brave girl actually did that! ;)

It's good to be back, talking about metro stories! There have been a lot many instances and it's always fun. I mean, how over optimistic can I be? I can find something amusing even in a suffocating metro! I can be so heartless sometimes. I'm glad to be back. You think so? Should I continue this series? ;)