They call Mumbai the great leveller, the city where clerks and CEOs eat at the same roadside Bombay sandwich vendor, where they sit next to each other in a shared cab to Churchgate station and possibly part ways only while boarding the train when the former settles for one of the 7 coaches labelled "II" while the latter takes the trouble of locating that elusive striped haven marked "I". The first few months of arriving in Mumbai I was terrified at the prospect of even boarding the local train, more out of paranoia than anything else. Two years hence, well almost, I think am at liberty to call myself a veteran of train travel, and can give you better pointers about travelling in the train than what my friend explained - "the only difference between the second and first class is that in the first people actually bother using a deodorant, the sea of armpits remains".
The Position - Now if you expect that when the train pulls to a halt you'll be able to scamper to your nearest gate and be able to board easily, you're deeply mistaken. Locate yourself away from the congregation of ladies, their only other largest gathering being the one outside the store that just announced a flat discount on its winter collection! Place yourself at a safe distance from where the stairs end, because that's where the floodgates open once people start jumping off the train. The opening to the staircase is like a checkpoint for people aboard the train, you miss one, to get off before the other one comes is blasphemous. Passengers love their stairs so much they're ready to risk jumping off and breaking a leg than getting off midway between two sets of stairs and being miserable for making a decision first on which one to pursue and then ruing the very choice since the traffic up the flight is moving at a snail's pace.
The Chase - Even with the most experienced of travellers positioning at times seems to be flawed, possibly for lack of experience of that particular station. Trust me it takes meticulous and ardent hard work day in and day out of fighting it out at a station to get acquainted with how things work on arrival and departure of the trains. You end up being stranded in no man's land, faced with the difficult choice of which compartment to charge for. There is hardly any time for you to even approximate the probabilities or expectation of getting on-board given two choices. To avoid such dilemma and be able to stick with the single-minded pursuit of just one point of entry pace yourself with the train as it draws to a halt. Do not venture too close lest the swarm of people getting out crush you under their feet. Stay nimble, be ready to dart a step or two if the halt turns out to be abrupt. A successful passenger is he who manages to place himself in the middle of a crowd while getting on since that is where minimal effort is required, the momentum just draws you in.
The Hit - It is a man-eat-man world out there during the 30-second halt at the station. Gobble someone up or become someone's feast for the day. You can easily spot the veterans, the ones who start shouting from the inside even before the train has stopped, scaring the ones up front to jump off in fear of a riotous mob trampling them on their way out, or the sprinters on the outside who latch on to the entrance even while the engine driver is contemplating pulling the lever to decelerate. But since you have been reading this post thus far I can only assume you are relatively inexperienced in the way of entry and exit. It requires the patience and precision of martial arts. As an amateur, I have worked on two of my own moves:
I've had my nose bloodied twice, my head banged against the side-rail once, drifted off a train at Dadar as well, and sneaked out of Andheri station with an invalid ticket from Churchgate to Santa Cruz. I speak from experience fellow passenger and dear Reader, nothing more, nothing less. I'm all the more wiser, yet still a little unsure when I try to board the next local!
PS: The Detergent - Forgot to mention a very important aspect of local train travel. While a lot many others might be able to describe the above aspects far more vividly and with a wit befitting Oscar Wilde, here is something am sure nobody else would recommend. Buy good detergent. Its not for any stains you might pick up during travel, for that you've got dry cleaning. While in the train, the average male height comes to around 5 feet 7 inches, and unfortunately for you, if you happen to fall into that bracket, no matter where you turn, there's a sea of smelly armpits. It ain't so much the vision as the olfactory nightmare your nose has to suffer. To top it all off almost inevitably there always is a fart-machine on board who refuses to put a check on his gobblings and chooses to proclaim to the world what he had for lunch and supper in the midst of strangers in voices and silent whispers that do not take the respiratory route but choose to come out of a orifice much lower in the human anatomy! To the rescue, and this discovery for me was by way of pure accident, you dig your nose hard into your bicep of the arm outstretched to catch hold of a handle hanging atop. The sweet fragrance of Ariel Spring Clean from your shirt fills your nostrils with the richness of flowers and butterflies as your nose drifts off into subliminal bliss and you stand there soaking it all in blessing your maid for having done such wonderful laundry!
*excuse any copyright violations for the title. In my defence, changing, no, ruining the spelling for "footboard" to honour the book's title was not very easy! ;-)
The Position - Now if you expect that when the train pulls to a halt you'll be able to scamper to your nearest gate and be able to board easily, you're deeply mistaken. Locate yourself away from the congregation of ladies, their only other largest gathering being the one outside the store that just announced a flat discount on its winter collection! Place yourself at a safe distance from where the stairs end, because that's where the floodgates open once people start jumping off the train. The opening to the staircase is like a checkpoint for people aboard the train, you miss one, to get off before the other one comes is blasphemous. Passengers love their stairs so much they're ready to risk jumping off and breaking a leg than getting off midway between two sets of stairs and being miserable for making a decision first on which one to pursue and then ruing the very choice since the traffic up the flight is moving at a snail's pace.
The Chase - Even with the most experienced of travellers positioning at times seems to be flawed, possibly for lack of experience of that particular station. Trust me it takes meticulous and ardent hard work day in and day out of fighting it out at a station to get acquainted with how things work on arrival and departure of the trains. You end up being stranded in no man's land, faced with the difficult choice of which compartment to charge for. There is hardly any time for you to even approximate the probabilities or expectation of getting on-board given two choices. To avoid such dilemma and be able to stick with the single-minded pursuit of just one point of entry pace yourself with the train as it draws to a halt. Do not venture too close lest the swarm of people getting out crush you under their feet. Stay nimble, be ready to dart a step or two if the halt turns out to be abrupt. A successful passenger is he who manages to place himself in the middle of a crowd while getting on since that is where minimal effort is required, the momentum just draws you in.
The Hit - It is a man-eat-man world out there during the 30-second halt at the station. Gobble someone up or become someone's feast for the day. You can easily spot the veterans, the ones who start shouting from the inside even before the train has stopped, scaring the ones up front to jump off in fear of a riotous mob trampling them on their way out, or the sprinters on the outside who latch on to the entrance even while the engine driver is contemplating pulling the lever to decelerate. But since you have been reading this post thus far I can only assume you are relatively inexperienced in the way of entry and exit. It requires the patience and precision of martial arts. As an amateur, I have worked on two of my own moves:
- The Chicken Wing Manoeuvre - This move is especially effective for making an entrance. While waiting tentatively for everyone to get off the train, as soon as you figure the second last guy to get off from that entrance has lifted his foot to place it firmly on the ground, give the two people next to you a good right and left jab. Now since you're scrunched up between so many people, working a Rocky or Tyson punch to make sure you get the chance to get on is virtually impossible, so here is what you do. Form a boxing stance with the fists clenched and raised to chest level in front of you, and then with each elbow shove the men to your left and right once in the rib-cage, and if need be, jab the right one into the front one's as well. Make sure you punch hard enough for them to react, stop in the midst of the pushing and feel their ribs just for a split second, and that is your small window of opportunity when you make your move and squeeze up in front. The hit should be subtle unless you want to end up being pounded by two rowdy blokes.
- The Python Split - While getting on board is a game of brute force entry, getting off is slightly trickier which is why the blunt chicken wing trick won't work here. To squeeze past the sea of heads dangling off outstretched shoulders supporting arms clasping on to handles, requires a lot of flexibility. You could try stepping on people's feet and make them move away in pain, but the failing in that is you could fall victim to the same in the process as I discovered before discarding the approach. Instead, the target remains the same as entry, namely, the rib-cage. However, this time we go for a Bruce Lee approach. Stretch out your fingers as stiffly as possible like the fangs of a snake, with both hands on your sides, with a flourish like a swim stroke, bring them together and part them away poking hard into the side-ribs of the two goons standing in front of you. The sting makes them curl up like touch-me-nots, and voila a passage is created. There is no need to be subtle here, just say you're sorry and be on your way!
I've had my nose bloodied twice, my head banged against the side-rail once, drifted off a train at Dadar as well, and sneaked out of Andheri station with an invalid ticket from Churchgate to Santa Cruz. I speak from experience fellow passenger and dear Reader, nothing more, nothing less. I'm all the more wiser, yet still a little unsure when I try to board the next local!
PS: The Detergent - Forgot to mention a very important aspect of local train travel. While a lot many others might be able to describe the above aspects far more vividly and with a wit befitting Oscar Wilde, here is something am sure nobody else would recommend. Buy good detergent. Its not for any stains you might pick up during travel, for that you've got dry cleaning. While in the train, the average male height comes to around 5 feet 7 inches, and unfortunately for you, if you happen to fall into that bracket, no matter where you turn, there's a sea of smelly armpits. It ain't so much the vision as the olfactory nightmare your nose has to suffer. To top it all off almost inevitably there always is a fart-machine on board who refuses to put a check on his gobblings and chooses to proclaim to the world what he had for lunch and supper in the midst of strangers in voices and silent whispers that do not take the respiratory route but choose to come out of a orifice much lower in the human anatomy! To the rescue, and this discovery for me was by way of pure accident, you dig your nose hard into your bicep of the arm outstretched to catch hold of a handle hanging atop. The sweet fragrance of Ariel Spring Clean from your shirt fills your nostrils with the richness of flowers and butterflies as your nose drifts off into subliminal bliss and you stand there soaking it all in blessing your maid for having done such wonderful laundry!
*excuse any copyright violations for the title. In my defence, changing, no, ruining the spelling for "footboard" to honour the book's title was not very easy! ;-)
3 comments:
this post is so gross !
Gross? Its just the armpits that border on the filthy, I've kept the rest pretty decent. Do not insult my effort! ;)
haha so true dude!! although i think that travel for men is a bit different than for women... ladies dibba is a bit less crowded then general..
i havent tried any of the moves you mentioned (and dont plan to, cause wid my luck and the women's temperament, i will get beaten up! :P)
the mistake i make EVERY time is getting up early from my seat... i then get pushed around a lot before i finally get off! m trying to perfect it..
as usual, good one..
PS: incognito ko bol khudke blogs likhey.. apne comment karenge fir ;)
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