Thane Vashi Train @ 08.40 a.m.

We live in a city that is ruled by Railways. Our time is not in hours. Its in minutes. We are all on a constant run for life. And in this run we have our life-lines, the railways, ready no matter what.
I am a regular commuter of the morning 8.40 THANE-VASHI train. M gonna post the pic of tht trn soon. But till then. Lemme just introduce it to it.

Here is how it goes -

And here starts the challenge again,
Every morning when 8.40 halts @ Thane station,
This thought passes through me,
I recite Gayatri Mantra thrice,
as soon as I see the train approaching from a distance,
And then I put all my belongings in my bag, including my life,
Pack ‘em up to ensure that nothing is lost,
N then the whistle shouts out loud,
On your marks, Get set go..
I close my eyes n m shoved off,
in the empty 2nd class compartment of the local trn,
N thn starts the game, musical chair, except for the fact that the music here is ear-splitting noise of the train roaring, threatening the boarders that if they dnt behave now, it might not wait for the rest of the lot,
Nothing bothers the mob, n in the next 5 secs there’s no space to keep a nail of the small finger of the foot, life’s become so tiny and yet so big,
Its unfathomable, immovable, firm, sturdy, strong, roaring to live, to survive, to enjoy n to rejoice.
I sit in a posn which isn’t doing any good to me or the women sitting next to me,
M trying to read things out frm the newspaper,
N thn starts the stink of the sweat & the shit,
But Mumbai isn’t a city that cribs, it smells fragrance amidst the shit,
Of roses & jasmines & perfumes & talcums,
U see a beggar in the trn, a small kid of 4 maybe asking for food,
U r overcome with a feeling of asking the toddler’s mother to educate him,
But the next moment u see another swarm of people squeezing in the already full compartment,
My nails ache now, m trying hard to concentrate on the tiny fonts of the newspaper,
N there comes an old lady squeezed to almost half her size by the crowd,
I wanna stand up n make place for her,
But luk @ the desperation,
Can’t stand up, m packed, I dnt hve place to move my hair,
I feel sorry, I feel like slapping the old woman’s son for letting her go through all this,
I feel like holding her legs n asking for forgiveness for all the misdeeds that we as youngsters are doing,
I feel pity on myself for being so self-centered,
I see a lady in front of me throwing a chips wrapper out of the window,
I almost scream @ her for the act, I tell her that if tomorrow this small stream turns into a beast n floods ur house n drowns ur child, remember you are responsible, not just for screwing ur child’s life but millions like us,
N she looks @ me aghast, not knowing wht to say n how to react, not looking @ me for the nxt 20 mins till the end of the journey,
I look outside @ the huts n I keep staring @ them, n then I see a child sneering @ me, I m nt sure why exactly,
But tht child makes me smile, amidst the chaos,
I wonder if this chintu can smile without evn enuf clothes on,
I am fully clothed, sheltered, nurtured, protected..
Y do I find it so difficult to smile?
Thts becoz life throws such questions @ u sometimes n whn u dnt knw the answers u tend to forget the smaller joys,
N thn all you do is crib,
N thn I smile @ myself, I dnt want any answers, I knw I’ll get thm if I leave the questions on their own for sometime.
N thts wht I do,
I get dwn @ Sanpada n thn @ Belapur smiling n satisfied with the way the day started,
Praying to God to gimme strength to channel @least one mind my way…..

Anushree H. K.