1:40 ki afternoon local

The prelude I got to Bombay included adjectives like "hot", "humid", "dingy", "crowded" and "local trains". Exactly! The same thing struck me as to how a "local train" served as an adjective to a city. I do understand that local trains are renowned for being crowded and all, but then again I have always opined that people crib more than they ought to. There was a little skepticism as I set foot in Bombay with all the "knowledge" on how Mumbaikars hated Delhiites to the core. I would not say it has been smooth sailing since day one, nor would I complain that it has been a rout from the first moment itself. I've had my ups and downs in this city, and one of them is the first time I boarded a local.

Having given the licensing exam to become a trader, and downed 4 chapatis out of sheer excitement of having passed, a friend of mine and I decided to try out the Bombay local for the first time rather than spend 200 bucks on the ride back home. The irony of being a management graduate is that more often than not you tend to overthink things, in this case we concluded after 20 minutes of deliberation that the local train would be relatively empty. What we forgot to accommodate for was the fact that from Churchgate EVERYONE would want to head out into the city, so it won't really be empty around lunch time! Like meek rabbits we stood in a corner, laptop bags hanging down one shoulder and the other hand smartly inserted into our pockets. We tried using "Excuse me" to ask for the platform ticket, but apparently "boss" gets more attention in Bombay than the Anglo version of "excuse moi" ;)

Having located the ticket counter, I got in queue waiting for my chance. I won't deny there was an adrenalin rush as I was about to purchase my first local ticket. "2 for Bandra - fast local" was my call. The ticket attendant looked drably at my smiling face, asked for Rs. 14 and shoved the ticket out the small hole. The smile intact, I blurted out "I asked for two tickets". He simply turned his chair slowly and through his already drooping glasses at the edge of his nose pointed out "ticket to padh lo uncle"!! From :) I went to :|. So much for the warm welcome to the first local experience. We ambled across the station to platform 6 where the local for Andheri was supposed to come in 4 minutes precisely.

The meek mice posture had still not deserted us, standing in a corner, hoping for some divine intervention to point out we were doing the right thing in standing there. I conjured up some courage, and approached the engine driver of the train on platform 5 to ask him which train would be leaving for Bandra at the earliest. For the uninitiated who are still wondering why we had to draw up strength to question about the trains, apparently it is blasphemy in Bombay to not know the trains inside out! The bloke pointed out everything making it crystal clear even for a dumbass to catch a train to Bandra, but when one of the other passengers butted into the conversation we three were having, all hell broke loose and he pulverised the other guy's ego into nothingness. We just quietly slid away and chose a spot on platform 6 with hardly anyone around.

Being a guy sometimes leads to your downfall, as we chose to stand next to a group of smartly dressed girls, not to flirt but just to make sure we'd rather be next to perfume-clad beauties than sweating pigs :P The train drew to a halt and the entire crowd started rushing forward, shoving us, pushing us into the train. Before we could realise it, we were already inside and surrounded by women - ALL OF THEM ! Now on a different day I would have felt God-like, but today I felt something sink inside as I gathered from the scornful look of the women near us that we had accidentally boarded the "women's bogey" :| If it were ever possible to have red show on beige skin, it would have shone brightly that day on my cheeks! We jumped off, and out of sheer embarrassment decided to take the next train home.

We waited for another 12 minutes before the slow local showed up again. We hopped on. It got crowded within a matter of seconds and before either of us knew it, we were hanging desperately onto the over-hanging supports with our laptop bags over our heads. It is a pain to be 5 feet 8 inches in a local at times, especially when a 5.10 footer stands right next to you with his armpits all sweaty, dangling to the same overhead support as yours. Had I not been suffering from bronchitis and a blocked nose, all the nose-hair would have burnt and ashen down to a fine dust that day. I got elbowed, knuckled, kicked and punched in the tummy before I could get off at Bandra station. Wrestling moves probably could trace their origins to the Bombay local.

Hurt and bruised we walked for another mile before reaching the office and dozing off to sleep in our chairs after a blistering day of surviving the Bombay local! :P