I loathe my communte on the harbour line.Travelling in a fast train from Thane to Kurla is a dream ride.But the hustle begins as you get down at kurla.I do not travel by first class, the reason for which will be known to you when I feel like letting it known. I assure you that first class is equally pathetic during rush hour.But I will save this topic for some other time.
So now I am at kurla.After setting my bag right and checking out the pockets I start my ascend on the stairs leading to the FOB.Mind you FOB does not stand for Fuckedup Over Bridge.The FOB at kurla is about 6feet wide and is lined by perrinial beggars and aspiring hawkers selling the outdated mobile covers and oversized/undersized watches worth 15 rupees.That is cheap considering the fact that Thane to Belapur via kurla costs 13 rupees.Also worth mentioning is the red paint that adores the railing or what used to be a railing.This paint has survived god knows how many monsoons.These factors when combine with the crowd of few thousand leads to my missing the 9.01 train for panvel.
Hey no...I havent missed it.The indicator on the FOB still shows 9.01 panvel.I try to push my way to the platform.But I realise that so is everyone.Finally I reach the platform no.7 with all my belongings still with me and with my footwear. intact.What the hell.....the indicator on the platform is showing 9.13 belapur.I wait with all my belongings still with me only to see a chembur local arriving.What the fuck was that??? Isn't there anything called a schedule??? Stage one complete.
The belapur local finally arrives and I am ready to hop into the door that I always target.This a tactic adopted by an experienced harbour line traveller or else you will enp up waiting for the crowd to get in.More often than not you will end up missing the train.But according to my strategy I am one of the first to get into the compartment and head straight to the space between the seats.Stage two complete.(This stage requires extreme agility and can be achieved only by experience.But some exercises that improves your reflexes are helpfull.Newcomers please do not try this at Kurla)
I stand between two men who may not be termed as gentle.They have a newspaper in their hand and are obviously feeling wary of me as they are now having to hold the papers more closer to themselves.I wish they say something to me. Say something rude actually.I may then vent my frustation in fluent english that may bring a smile to my seniors face who is occupying the window seat beside one of the newspaper man.But no they are merely frustated men,more experienced than me and may have been tolerating the harbour line sice it's inception.And they have a place to sit.Thats more important.So what do I do? The abience certainly is not good enough to revise the lecture notes of Transcription in Eukaryotes.And certainly not in front of a senior.Also, the yellow flash cards will only attract some confound eyes.The person standing between me and the window is standing too close to the window,in such a pose giving me a notion that he must be releaveing himself from the window.But no,we havent stooped that low yet.Suddenly I hear a man swearing at another guy.Please do not bring mom's and sister's name into it so early.Mom, sister,Dad,wife,dog,whore,pimp...ok now the altercation is over.May be there isn't anyhting else left.
Suddenly it turns dark.Did the lights go off. Hey no... they went off few minutes ago.This may be Vashi then.The supposedly best station of mumbai is darker than the tunnel on the pune route.But I get a place to sit.But why the hell did my senior get down at vashi?? Who cares?? Even he doesn't!!The windows are also painted with the same red paint.WOw!! asian paints and nerolac, there's competetion here.The person sitting opposite to me tries to spit outside the window but ends up adding a bit of varnish to the royal red paint.(I am not advertising for a paint mind you).Belapur arrives and I am still having all my belongings with me.But a deodourent will surely help me and a press to my shirt and jeans will not hurt either.(Stage three complete).
PS : I get down from the train only to see that senior of mine with a babe, holding her hand and..hmm..and..mmmm..ahem...ok holding her..back...oh sorry.. bag actually.But now......I loathe my existence.
So now I am at kurla.After setting my bag right and checking out the pockets I start my ascend on the stairs leading to the FOB.Mind you FOB does not stand for Fuckedup Over Bridge.The FOB at kurla is about 6feet wide and is lined by perrinial beggars and aspiring hawkers selling the outdated mobile covers and oversized/undersized watches worth 15 rupees.That is cheap considering the fact that Thane to Belapur via kurla costs 13 rupees.Also worth mentioning is the red paint that adores the railing or what used to be a railing.This paint has survived god knows how many monsoons.These factors when combine with the crowd of few thousand leads to my missing the 9.01 train for panvel.
Hey no...I havent missed it.The indicator on the FOB still shows 9.01 panvel.I try to push my way to the platform.But I realise that so is everyone.Finally I reach the platform no.7 with all my belongings still with me and with my footwear. intact.What the hell.....the indicator on the platform is showing 9.13 belapur.I wait with all my belongings still with me only to see a chembur local arriving.What the fuck was that??? Isn't there anything called a schedule??? Stage one complete.
The belapur local finally arrives and I am ready to hop into the door that I always target.This a tactic adopted by an experienced harbour line traveller or else you will enp up waiting for the crowd to get in.More often than not you will end up missing the train.But according to my strategy I am one of the first to get into the compartment and head straight to the space between the seats.Stage two complete.(This stage requires extreme agility and can be achieved only by experience.But some exercises that improves your reflexes are helpfull.Newcomers please do not try this at Kurla)
I stand between two men who may not be termed as gentle.They have a newspaper in their hand and are obviously feeling wary of me as they are now having to hold the papers more closer to themselves.I wish they say something to me. Say something rude actually.I may then vent my frustation in fluent english that may bring a smile to my seniors face who is occupying the window seat beside one of the newspaper man.But no they are merely frustated men,more experienced than me and may have been tolerating the harbour line sice it's inception.And they have a place to sit.Thats more important.So what do I do? The abience certainly is not good enough to revise the lecture notes of Transcription in Eukaryotes.And certainly not in front of a senior.Also, the yellow flash cards will only attract some confound eyes.The person standing between me and the window is standing too close to the window,in such a pose giving me a notion that he must be releaveing himself from the window.But no,we havent stooped that low yet.Suddenly I hear a man swearing at another guy.Please do not bring mom's and sister's name into it so early.Mom, sister,Dad,wife,dog,whore,pimp...ok now the altercation is over.May be there isn't anyhting else left.
Suddenly it turns dark.Did the lights go off. Hey no... they went off few minutes ago.This may be Vashi then.The supposedly best station of mumbai is darker than the tunnel on the pune route.But I get a place to sit.But why the hell did my senior get down at vashi?? Who cares?? Even he doesn't!!The windows are also painted with the same red paint.WOw!! asian paints and nerolac, there's competetion here.The person sitting opposite to me tries to spit outside the window but ends up adding a bit of varnish to the royal red paint.(I am not advertising for a paint mind you).Belapur arrives and I am still having all my belongings with me.But a deodourent will surely help me and a press to my shirt and jeans will not hurt either.(Stage three complete).
PS : I get down from the train only to see that senior of mine with a babe, holding her hand and..hmm..and..mmmm..ahem...ok holding her..back...oh sorry.. bag actually.But now......I loathe my existence.
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