The Train Twin

Today I had my first true realisation of how the daily grind gets really imbibed into the very grain of our minds and the way we lead our lives.
Confused? Read on...

Scene 1:
Matunga Station.

Time: 4:28 p.m.

What happened:

As I stroll into the familiar corrugated tin roofed structure that claims to be the main entrance to Matunga station today, I was dreaming about the awesome dinner mom's set up for tonight. I was thanking all the Gods above for having decided to get my CP class for the evening cancelled, thereby giving me a nice chance to PROPERLY enjoy the meal-to-be.. Sitting on my favourite patch of the sofa, having won possession of the remote from Pop, with some good music on VH1 or 9XM, The Bourne Identity in one hand and a plate of steaming rice and fish curry with oodles of coconut on my lap. Mmm mm... Rather involuntarily, my eyes sweep the indicator at the station, half the red LEDs of which were out of order, proudly proclaiming that the next train is bound for Kalyan in two minutes. "Good", I thought. "Enough time to cross the blasted bridge." And i grumble yet again as to why we couldn't just walk onto the platform like we can at Thane or Bandra or Dadar... Sigghh...
I start climbing, and what's this?? The one day when I want to take it easy (and still reach home as soon as possible, obviously), Central Railways decides to run the trains not just on time, but early. With a silent oath, I start making my way past school kids and old uncles on the broken down bridge to Platform 1. As I cut right I notice that I'm running neck and neck with another girl who seems intent on catching the very same train. No big surprise. I try to outrun her driven by an inkling of the feeling of forfeiture if I were to lose the race and the last remaining seat in the Ladies (pronounced ledheezh) First Class 'dabba'. No, that can't happen. "Run, Tanvi, run!"
I'm on the last step. The blasted train honks. The other girl was athletic (or maybe it's just that I'm not). She beat me to it. I was a split second behind her, and behind the train. I jumped into the compartment, staggering as the train jerked to a start. "Whew! At least I'm in!". I'll be home a few minutes early!! Passing over that... Craning into the dabba, I noticed loads of empty space to sit. Hallelujah!! I saw the other girl doing the same. We scrambled our way in to get the best seats we could wangle (out of the sun, under the fan, non-corner, not next to the fat gujju aunty or the one with the suitcase blah blah blah... SO much data being processed in that split second), only to sit down side by side with the fellow sprinter. No big surprise. What happened afterwards was. We were both panting away, each heave synchronised, like some weird (you perverts!!) orchestra entertaining our fellow commuters. And mechanically, with some difficulty, I pulled out my handkerchief to wipe the sweat from that sprint. As I turned my head, I noticed the other girl doing the same. Okay. Not a surprise. After a few more heaves, I shrugged off my sneakers, seeing a pair of sandals being slipped off next door out of the corner of my eye. As I ignored the "Please do not keep feet on the seat" sign stencilled onto the wall in front and placed my feet on the empty seat in front of me, another pair found their way onto the seat across the aisle. Simultaneously, as though we'd planned it. Of course, it wasn't. I didn't know her. "Probably some rich kid from Mulund", I thought, seeing the rich clothes and accessories or whatever they're called. A few last remaining pants of weariness. Heard from across The Aisle too. WTF. I reached down and took out my water-bottle to take care of my parched throat, and voila, the same thing happens independently on the other side. This was getting on my nerves. We hadn't so much as glanced at each other's faces. And I don't think people try to pull jokes in such situations. Whatever. I pulled out my MP3 player, which I had hastily pulled off during The Race, connected it and sensed earphones coming out next to me too. I listened to a few strums by Creed and couldn't bear it any more. This was plain stupid. So i disconnected the "dhapofied" Sony Ericsson earphones from my ear and reached for The Bourne Identity. AND YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT... The stupid girl had probably felt the same way as me and had pulled out a Psychology Textbook to read!!!! AAARRGGGHHH!!! But I didn't think about it too much then as the world of the Pentagon wrapped around me and kept me absorbed till I reached Thane.

Reflections:
When I related this experience at my Hearing Window at home (read MOM) I realized something. It's all a part of the stupid daily schedule and habits that we get ourselves into during the course of it... I'm positive the girl wasn't kidding around, simply 'cos you just don't kid around like this with strangers. Whatever happened was pure synchronised coincidence arising out of habit. Now that I think about it, I realized that this is what happens everyday to me in the train. A daily ritual that 'completes' the day. It's just that I found some other kindred soul who is running the same mill as me day after day, and has been programmed to think in the same way as me by the mundaneness of daily train travel.

Moving ahead...


Scene 2:
Pawar Nagar Bus Stop.

Time: 5:19 p.m.

I had just completed the boring, tiring, smoky, dusty, painfully slow walk from Thane station to Gaondevi Maidan, where my bus-stop is. Bus-stop : meaning a rail on the pavement supporting an asbestos roof, compelling poor Vasant Vihar residents to stand even on the gutter cover, jam packed, waiting for the elusive "Barah Numbar" bus to come.
I'd just finished reflecting on how wrong I was about that Train Twin of mine staying in Mulund. She'd alighted at Thane just like me. An inconsequential conclusion, except, if anything, reminding me to improve my observation skills. I'd realized, with all due respect to our dear neighbours at Mulund, she'd lacked the "Mulund snobbitude". Trying to conjecture where people will get down has become a hobby and a necessity while you're standing in the train (so that you can book a seat) and hence an integral part of my Central Railways psyche.
As I rounded the corner at Gaondevi I sighed. Today just wasn't my day. The Pawar Nagar Line was as long and serpentine as ever. In fact, longer than I'd seen the dumb thing in a long time... First run for the train. Now this. Oh well. As I waited for a chance to cross the treacherous road and take my place in the queue, I hoped to God that it wouldn't grow longer by the time I crossed the road. Again Lady Luck evaded me. Four daredevils ran the space between two buses and lengthened the line for me. Just great. I scanned the line to see if I can catch people for a shared rick to Vasant Vihar. And surprise surprise. My Train Twin is there in the line, craning her neck to spot the bus that would never come. She saw me across the road and we acknowledged each other with a grin. Yes, the Train Twin Syndrome wasn't lost on her.

That was when I realized how much we had in common.
As in not philosophies of life and schools of thought stuff. The Daily Grind stuff was what we had in common. I wondered how many other twins I had in the city, going through the same zilch everyday. The same travel. The same rituals. The same roads to tread. The same dust and grime to wash off at night. Is this what life is like for thousands of other people across the city? I mean ok, everyone talks about it, but this was the first time I got to see it really being manifested so explicitly.

And so ends the saga of The Train Twin. My day of Enlightenment.

This is Buscador, signing off.

P.S. This post is dedicated to all my dear Train Twins out there. Salaam to you all and your bravery!