Journey From Jasola - 2

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