Office : Jasola Apollo, Violet Line
Home : Guru Dronacharya, Yellow Line
Entering the Metro Station
My right hand is fractured and my colleague, who picks and drops me
daily, tells me that he will be late today. I decide to go home by metro.
I reach Metro Station. There is a long flight of stairs that one must
climb to reach concourse. I look for escalator.
“Escalator doosri side hai” informs
a man. I take the lift.
A board outside the Lift reads ‘For Senior Citizen, Physically
Challenged & Sick People only’. Inside, the lift is full of fourth kind of
people – Lazy Footiyaas.
I walk straight to the queue of Security Check. I look right. There is a
long queue at Token Counter. I recite the words in my head “samay aur dhan ki bachat ke liye smart card
ka prayog kare”. Bloody Un-smart
Footiye.
Security Guard frisks me for namesake. He is sure that a man with a
broken arm cannot be a terrorist.
I reach the Entry Gate. Scan my wallet. No response. I rub my wallet
again on the scanner. Still no response. I look for my Smart Card. Shit!! I left it home
today. I join the long queue at the Token Counter.
I get the token. I stand again in the queue for Security Check. This
time I avoid looking right but look left.
I see green-blue-red objects in the x-ray monitor. It is fascinating. I look further left where women are being
frisked inside an enclosure. I wonder why men are frisked in open. I try to see
what happens behind the curtains in the enclosure.
“Bhai baad mein taad liyo, abhi
aage badle” I hear a man’s voice from behind. I feel self-conscious.
I scan my token and cross the security gates. There is another long
flight of stairs to the platform. I look for escalator again.
“Escalator doosri side hai”
informs a lady. I take the lift.
Jasola Apollo to Central Secretariat
The train is still 4 minutes away. I find a place for myself where I
think the train will be least crowded. The train arrives. Coach in front of me
is over-flowing with people.
I think of waiting for the next train but I am pushed inside by the
crowd behind me.
“In bhaisahab ko jagah de do yaar,
handicap hai yeh” Man 1 tells Man 2 to get up from the seat for me. I thank God that chivalry is not dead. I sit comfortably.
“Bhaisahab ab thoda adjust holo,
humare bhi pair mein bada dard hai”, Man 1 adjust himself, pushing me to
the glass partition. I am pissed off. Over-smart Footiya.
Man 1 immediately takes out his phone and texts, “Baby, pair mein dard hai par koi seat nahi deta”. What a liar!! I look at him in
disgust. “Babu dis kis wil gv u enrgy :* ” comes the reply. Man 1 wink at me. I look away.
Another man in magenta loose shirt and orange tight jean is narrating
his story of machismo to his friend while scratching his crotch.
“Woh mujhse number
maang rahi thi aaj, main bola chal hat saali” I roll my eyes. Hey Bhagwaan, uthale in sadak-chaap footiyon ko!!!
“Agla station Kendriya Sachivalaya
hai” goes the announcement.
I get up and am pushed down by the crowd. I get up again.
I hear commotion behind me. “Bhaisahab
utarna hai?” “Are bhiayya side ho na”
“Utarna hota nahi hai par Saamne Khade ho
jaate hai” “Haath jagah pe rakh le
saale” “Dimaag na kharab kar.” "Tere se bol raha hun kuchh?" "Behere" “Bahar nikal tu, phir batata hoon tujhe” “Abe mere headphones"
I wonder why some footiyaas
have to fight inside metro.
Pushing, hitting, squeezing, abusing I manage to reach the door. I wait
for the door to open so that I can get down. The door on the other side opens.
“Abe pehle nikalne toh do saalo,
phir andar ghus jaana”
Central Secretariat to Guru Dronacharya
Train to HUDA City Centre will arrive in 5 minutes.
The platform is cramped with people. But all are standing in line. Half
a dozen Security Guards have maintained decorum on the platform. They blow a whistle
whenever anyone tries to break the line or crosses the dreaded “Yellow Line”. I feel happy to see all of this. These
Security Guard should be rewarded for their work.
The train arrives and the line converges to form a chaos. Everyone is pushing
everyone else. Decorum gives way to disorder. A stampede is inevitable. I try
to protect my plaster. I look for Security Guards. They are sitting and watching
the confusion from the stairs. Stupid, irresponsible footiye.
I think of waiting for the next train but I am pushed inside by the
crowd behind me.
Delhiites have always had this peculiar habit of crowding around the
door while leaving inside empty. I remember during the days of Blue Line buses,
everyone will be standing and hanging from the stairs giving an impression to
an outsider that the bus is crowded. But actually the bus will be completely
empty from inside.
The moment I enter with my fractured hand, people sitting on the reserved seats close their eyes and pretend to sleep. Saaley nautanki hai sab ke sab.
I go and stand in the vestibule that connects the two coaches. I lean my
back against the synthetic rubber. I like the feeling of softness and feel the urge
to slide down. I like the floor shake beneath me. I try to balance myself
without holding on to anything. I imagine what would happen if the joint is
open and train separates.
A couple standing in front of me are making out. Hands of the boy has
found every possible entry point in the girl’s dress. Despo kahin ke. Gone are the days when Delhiites had to go to
Buddha Jayanti Park. Ab toh jahaan jaga
mili shuru ho jate hai.
Hauz Khas station arrives. The train gets further crowded. The boy doesn’t
like the crowd pushing his girl. He
takes his hand out. He forms a shield around her with his arms ensuring no body
touches her. The girl feels protected. Kisses the boy on his lips for being her
hero. Aye haye!! Cheaper saaley!!
Hauz Khas brings in more kinds of footiyas
inside the train!
Bubble-Shoot khelne waale footiye, speaker par gaane sunne waale
footiye. Mauhalle ke saari kahaniya sunnane waale footiye, Overhead hanger par
dono haathone se latkne waale footiye.. Reminds me of Veeru from Sholay. Basanti in kutton ke saamne mat naachna
Underground Metro
mein goggles pehene waale footiye, jahaan jagaah mili wahaan baith jaane waale
footiye, selfie kheenchne waale footiye, metro mein khaana khaane waale footiye,
chetan bhagat padne waale pseudo-intellectual footiye, pata hai network nahi
aata, phir bhi zor-zor se baat karne waale footiye..
I count the number of stations to Guru Dronacharya. Multiply it by 2 to calculate the estimated arrival
time. I am so smart.
Arjan Garh arrives. I leave the vestibule and start moving towards the
door. A man is standing with his middle finger inserted into the hole above the
door. Ched dekha nahi, ungli ghusa do bas. Another man has his lips and nose pressed against the
glass door. Sheesha saaf inke papa aakar
karenge.
Guru Dronacharya arrives. I get down of the train and look around for
escalator to go down.
“Uncle Escalator doosri taraf hai”
informs a small kid. I take the lift.
Exiting the Metro
Station
I reach the exit gate. Scan my wallet. The door doesn’t open.
I remember I had bought a token. I search for the token in all my
pockets. Cannot find it.
“oh bhai.. token nikal liya karo pehle se”..
“Hema zara dekhiyo Kaun hai yeh footiya jo line rokh kar khada
hai?”
Embarrassed, I insert token. Exit.
*******
Inspired from real life experience of a fellow blogger Sarthak Ahuja