Weekdays in the Delhi metro is like a trip through the tumble dry washing machine. You are pushed, pulled, slipped... and if you are in someone’s way you will be attacked, like the dirt in your laundry. Your hand may be stuck between two other peoples’ arms and may be stretched about two feet from you in an aerobic pose. Till someone three feet away stares at you wondering where your hands were and what the hell were you doing in that position, and you burst out laughing imagining how ridiculous you may be looking. And just like a tumble dryer you come out moist and ready to soak the sun....yuck =)
A day in Delhi Metro, Posted May 27,2011:Socially Wicked courtesy: http://madhurikhanduja.wordpress.com/2011/05/27/a-day-in-delhi-metro/ |
And then there are Weekends, when all mommies and their bachchas come out to shop and play. All pappas must have been beaming the day their nearst metro opened, because now they wouldn’t have to stear their wife and babies around like unpaid chauffers. Instead they could laze around at home while the kids and mommies were out on their trips.
I was travelling back from Gurgaon today, and Gurgaon to Janakpuri West can be a long... really long, actually too long a journey to be honest. But by Jove, I had underestimated the entertainment that a ride in the metro can bring to you.
The kids and mommies started streaming in. The commotion started. At first it was the scrambling for seats. With each station, the seats were reduced till there were too few and too many mommies, with kids ready to bounce out of their arms. And after the ever prevalent DHEETH (read as stubborn-assed) metro travellers, who conveniently turn a blind eye to the ones who could much rather use the seat, had to give up the seats, many more were adjusted after KHISKOing our asses to saturation. And finally, the mommies settled down...
But wait... the kids knew that if their mother settles down, they could be unleashed on to the metro at their will. And it was Party-time for the toddlers. The pole is the first attraction, TP no.01 (TP-Time Pass). They all like breaking into a running frenzy round and round, around the pole. I wonder if it ever makes them dizzy because they can go on and on. They even create their own games of making a small gesture at some nearby commuter, a smile or a high-five after each revolution, just to add an incentive to each round.
Website for the image: www.hdwallpapers.in |
And then God forbid, if there are two who haven’t fully developed their words yet, they will scream at each other in a language none of us can decipher. They’ll pull their moms hair, smack the face of the adjacent commuter and laugh it off, and so will the adults...sometimes I wish I could do all that too, that’s the art of getting away!!! Till one of them starts to wail because he was dancing from one pole to another and just then the driver hit the brakes, and the bachcha must not have seen that coming. He smashed into the pole face on...oh poor dearie. And even as the kid is wailing away to glory, all the instinctively motherly girls will ooze out their “ooohs”, “tschhtscch-es” and “oho baabu” to the baby, some will even giggle, enjoying the melodious cry of the baby. Little do they know the pain!
Website for the image: www.mumstreet.co.uk |
The last thing one should be doing in this scenario is picking the baby up to a height where he/she can reach the hold-on straps on top. That just ignites the monkey-man in them. They will swiiiiiing from here and swiiiiiiing from there. Swinging from the hold-on handles is TP no .02. If one does it, they all will want to do it. Even in this lot, there will always be a Shah-Rukh-Khan-Baby, the cool one. The one who will overlook the ones doing all the jumping, squeeking and screaming and brush off such bachpana, and more often than not the SRK Baby will have a uber(UBER)- mod (read as hot) mom, with her goggles perched on top of her head, who will only talk to her baby in English; As if the baby could tell any better, he’d care two hoots if she spoke in Malayalam. Invariably, they get off at Rajouri Garden ready to hit the malls of Rajouri, mommy and SRK baby.
Alas, soon came Janakpuri East, and I got back to reality. All the squeals faded, and I wished the journey had been longer. At least those kids were having more fun with a mundane metro ride than us frequent travelers. Metro ka Nappy time khatam hua...agla station Janak Puri West hai. And I got off...
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