Let's not bump into each other

"I feel like I am alone in this world. 

But that’s not something I wish to change;

At least, not at this point of my life."

It would be a little extreme to say that he hated people. No, that’s preposterous. You can’t hate someone you don’t know. Yes, you could probably dislike them, but not hate—that’s too strong a word.

More often than not, staying alone is a choice that most people would never understand.

It usually happens when you get so annoyingly picky that you fail miserably to find anyone. So, in the end, you have to compromise with your own company. And that’s like water-boarding yourself in a pool of unresolved emotions, and injecting yourself with lethal flashbacks.
In short, for some, being alone is ‘kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic’ (if you don’t get this reference then we are probably not great friends).

That’s one significant reason why he doesn’t like bumping into people while he’s travelling in metro.

He simply wishes for a crowd with no familiar faces; so that he could be what he wants to be—no one. He enjoys the pure anonymity he receives while riding in his beloved metro. He’s free to build his own weird world with people who have no power over him. Just for the duration of his ride, he wishes to be the creator; to be the one in control. Just for a while.

No matter how close he is to that person, his first instinct would be to avoid any sort of eye-contact, change the coach if possible, or walk past that person if there’s an opportunity.
He always hated such collisions and the need for small talks when something like that happens. Maybe it was his attempt to rebel against destiny. Maybe it was his way to get control over his life. Running into people always feels chaotic to him, as if things are out of bounds. It’s not like he ever got a grip over his circumstances, but when he bumps into people it becomes evident that there’s no grip whatsoever. And, perhaps, he couldn’t bear that.     

You can only assume why he’s like that. You are free to do that. Because, frankly, he doesn’t give a damn what you think about him. It might not make sense to most of us, but one thing that he has learned is that even sensible things won’t get you any brownie points.

So, what the hell! 

What the FAQ!

“The first rule of Metro Club is that you do not ask a fellow passenger for directions.

The second rule of Metro Club is that you DO NOT frigging ask a fellow passenger for directions.”

-         -  Tyler (Jamailaa!) Durden  

Humans are inherently stupid, to be precise. We fail to realise when we are bursting someone’s social bubble, or alienating the hell out of them. During our yawn-inspiring, moribund lifetime, most of us only manage to morph into a less-annoying and less-naive version of ourselves; while the rest of us choose to make peace with our conspicuous dumbness (Like a boss!).

And, quite frankly, fate is one sadistic bitch for purposefully arranging frequent collisions between both the clubs, just to get a kick out of it.

Public transports, like Delhi Metro, obediently serve as the perfect battlegrounds for such masterfully planned collisions. Constant delays, overwhelming odour, and incessant cacophony catered simultaneously to a pack of self-obsessed, PMSing people wedged in one congested area, all on the verge of losing their temper— a perfect set-up, isn’t it?

It doesn’t take more than an accidental nudge on the shoulder; an out of the blue wise-ass remark; a male napping on a seat reserved for ladies, to trigger unnecessary chaos and generate an excuse for everyone to frantically lose their mind. Anything or anyone present in the metro, no matter how minuscule and trivial— be it ultra-loud announcements or a Peeping Tom sitting beside you, has the tendency to irritate you to the level of Salman Khan’s films. But the thing that gets metro guy seriously pissed-off is the series of FAQs (frequently asked questions) bombarded on him on a daily basis, while he’s waiting either for his ride or a fellow traveler.

The recent DMRC study shows that if you stay immobile at a particular spot for more than 300 seconds, then the possibility of your unpleasant metamorphosis into a customer care centre increases multi-fold. However, the study is still inconclusive about the striking phenomenon of blatant ignorance of bi-lingual sign-boards, descriptive making-it-obvious maps, constant announcements and even the childish, coloured footsteps. Researchers are still trying to comprehend the stupidity of some people. The situation is so bad that you might as well as gouge both your eyes out in front of them, and they will still ask you to direct them to an exit gate.

   

A sacred sub-clause of “Metro Code of Conduct” clearly states that a person listening to his/her precious songs during a metro journey should never ever be disturbed, no matter what the circumstances are; you can’t force someone to take their earphones out, while they are relishing some highly-relatable songs. It’s a punishable offense. But, few people still have the audacity to tap on the shoulders of those who-shall-not-be-disturbed. And, for what? To enquire whether the train will go to Dwarka or not?

Shame...Shame... Shame (tring tring). [A Game of Thrones’ fan would understand]   

In light of the worsening situation, metro guy had to take certain precautions, so, he devised some strategies to protect himself from the hard-hitting FAQs: a) be always on the move; b) learn to be cold and indifferent; c) use headset instead of headphones for clear visibility; d) Use non-verbal communication like shrugging your shoulders to show disinterest; e) Avoid waiting.   

Metro tamed by "Dr. Skeptismo"

“We quickly assume the worst

Question what’s otherwise evident; withdraw all our trust

And, then, conveniently proclaim that morality has died”

You know, there’s a reason we are so screwed up. There’s a reason why we feel so alone in this overcrowded, bizarre world; why we conveniently choose to stay quiet, even though, our hearts are bursting inside, and why our faith lies in a dubious supreme figure, but, are unashamedly ignorant of those with whom we share the dust.

The fact is that whenever any curious soul even tries to ponder over this thought, it is usually shrugged off with ‘humans are insanely complicated’ cliché. But the reason I am talking about here is rather conspicuous.

 It’s your regular, run-of-the-mill cynicism.

(Hey, atleast hear me out, before you start doubting my theory.)   

If we put the idealistic thoughts aside, the regretful fact is that, we are not who we are— we are what society thinks of us. Either willingly or unwillingly, we embrace people’s distorted perceptions about us and loosely frame our own personality to somehow please the imposed judgement. The deep-rooted fears of others have gradually transformed into our unhindered hesitation, and our actions, that were once voluntary, are now driven by the degree of cultural-acceptability.  

Baffling!

It just shows that the world is nothing but a compilation of emotionally wrecked people, and our metro guy is as messed up as they come.

A chubby little kid, seated comfortably on his father’s lap, was constantly staring at him, passing a mischievous grin, all along. Personally, metro guy hates travelling with toddlers because of their annoying boo-boo acts, which others may find adorable. But, as per the metro code of conduct, the ideal reply is to smile back, no matter how displeased you are or how reluctant you feel.

However, there’s a sneaky little catch. The smile should be of appropriate amount— radiant enough to show you care, but not a psychotic ear-to-ear one, otherwise people would definitely take you for a pedophile.
Mastering your smile isn’t enough, though. Once, metro guy was in awe at the mesmerizing view of a mother breast-feeding her child, during the ride; he was intrigued by the mysterious ways in which nature works. But his minute-long admiration soon shattered into multiple embarrassing and torturous seconds, when the mother passed a deathly look, shrieking out “Pervert!”      

So, you are forced to do something that you didn't want to in the first place, and if you don’t do it right, you would land in trouble. Fascinating, isn't it?

Metro guy often fantasizes about a ride where he could freely stare into space, without the fear of being tagged as a tharki; where he could pass a smile to anyone without raising questions at his candor; where an unintentional push in a bumpy ride is not counted as ‘groping’, and a ride where  he could be himself, instead of being operated by ‘Dr Skeptismo’.

Yes, the world would have been a much better place if we all trusted each other, but, we are smart enough to know that it’s an unattainable fantasy, or one can say, it’s utter bullshit. Being suspicious is in our nature. Without doubt, we would cease to exist as the dominant race. But have we ever wondered what it has done to us!

From dense Noida to dismal Dwarka

“Show me my dreamland, and, set me free

  So, I could rush back home

  And, upgrade the fantasies.”

Painfully arranged in the jigsaw puzzle of the crowd, metro guy leaned himself onto a pole and idly looked out of the wide glass-window. Through the pack of bobbling heads, he could see the “towards Dwarka” train- which, infact, is the reason of envy for every “towards Noida” guy- running proudly on the adjacent track. Metro guy bitterly flinched his eyes, twice, the moment he caught a glimpse of the almost-perfect world zipping away from him. Fewer people. More space. Higher possibility of getting a seat. There’s nothing more he could ask from his beloved metro. But, there he was, loathing the unbearable population density of his Noida world.   

However, things got spiced up when he arrived into a new phase of his metro life- a phase that injected him with an extra dose of ecstasy, as it offered him to travel his dream.  The sudden change of route caused by his new destination, gave him the tag of “towards Dwarka” guy.

But, once we start living the dream, we start missing our old reality.

Initially, it’s fascinating, because we get so used to regular things, that a slight change in the order amazes us. It steer our dance-of-thoughts into another dimension. It compels us to compare the former with the latter. The very same thing happens when Noida guy moves closer to the realm of Dwarka.

Noida and Dwarka are like those two brothers who have nothing in common, except for the fact that they have the same blood running through their veins (“Blue”, in this case). They are like two oppositely erected poles with their own uniquely formed metro-culture.

Noida-line is a dense and over-populated moving land. With the daily ongoing struggles, only the fittest and the smartest will survive there (says the Metro Darwin).  Dwarka, on the other hand, stands completely opposite to his evil bro. Peace and harmony are the virtues. Crowd behaves in a different manner there. They don’t hunt and kill for seats. On the contrary, they often leave their seats unoccupied and prefer standing up, leaning to a gate or a pole. This change in practice turned out to be utterly shocking for Noida guy, who is habitual to seat-fights and adjustment models. For metro guy, travelling to Dwarka is like visiting a place that is a laterally inverted image of the world he knows. Right is the new left. And, left is the new right.

Towards Dwarka- that’s all he ever wanted; but, still, he badly misses what he earlier had. The sweaty crowd; the hunting patterns; the anxiousness of getting a seat, it all came rushing back. And, now he sulkily travels his dream. Flinching his eyes, the moment he catches a glimpse of the almost-perfect world zipping away from him.     

Seat-eaters in Delhi Metro

In the contemporary air-conditioned jungle of Delhi Metro Rail Corporation, one can experience every element of wilderness, and any avid viewer of Man Vs Wild will tell you that it is not easy to survive in the wild (good guy Bear Grylls). To ensure their survival, organisms need to hunt. They must successfully trace and kill the weak by using their predatory skills and tactics. Amazingly, jungle of Delhi metro which is blessed with myriad organisms (completely untamed and uncivilized) stands out as the best place to study hunting strategies and patterns.

Within the premise of metro coaches, the act of hunting is monopolized by a feminine breed of predators. They don’t hunt for flesh or blood. They feed on what is considered priceless by many metrologists- the metro seat. Interestingly, there are multiple effective hunting patterns employed by them.

1. Polite method: This is the most commonly used method which somehow proves out to be less painful for the prey. With utter ‘politeness’, the target is simply asked to surrender its seat and die peacefully. By coming to an agreement, although not mutual, the overall mess is avoided. The popular belief is that the act of seat offering is a way to show respect to the mighty predator but critic believe that it’s more out of fear than politeness.   

2.  Gazing method: This style of hunting is now tightening its group in arena of metro hunting. In this technique, a randomly selected victim is constantly gazed upon and a psychological pressure is built so that it quit its seat without showing any sign of struggle. According to a study conducted by DMRC in 2012-13, the success rate of this method ranges from 80-90%.

3.  Authoritative method: Also known as “dominating method”, this style of hunting is often criticized for being unethical even for the standard of metro. With all the authority and pinch of bluntness the target is asked to sacrifice its valuable seat.
   However, many get confused between the polite and authoritative method. The main difference lies in the way that prey is asked to give up its seat. It may not change anything. But this practice highlights the failure of judiciary and administrative systems within the metro line.
   
   
4. Hunting in Herd:  This collaborative form of hunting promises a win-win situation for each herd member. Usually seen in a group of 3-4, they jointly employ any suitable method depending on the circumstances. It doesn't really matter if the targets are sitting in their marked territory or not, even if they are found nearby their reserved area, they are bound to be killed.

5. Temporary partnership: This is often labeled as the most deceiving method. Two predators, although strangers, makes a pact on temporary basis. One who is already blessed with a seat will help other to get one too. As soon as the adjacent seat gets empty, 'Treaty of Seats' comes into effect. Seated predator will shift to the vacant area, offering its own seat to the hungry one. It may look like an act of animality but the aspiring candidate, standing in front has to suffer. The unlucky one is “just gonno stand there and watch it (dream to get a seat) burn”.
   
   

"Love yourself". No. Never.

"I wish to be a different person.
Grant me that.
And I would wish it again."

We are socially-constructed parasites, barely surviving on the flattery of others and pity for ourselves. Sadly incapable of appreciating the true self, yet, busy licking off the superficiality of others- that’s us.

In the over-hyped, ‘quintessential’ race to be someone else, we are losing what we are. Randomly picking out strangers and playing “Haves and Have nots” is turning out to be our favourite game. The ‘glass is half empty’ guy is ruling this self-loathing world, for crying out loud.  

Metro guy is typical (as the name clearly suggests), just like all of them. He too finds it difficult to accept himself, but hate comes with ease. He looks around his fast moving world of trains, platforms and high population density, and what he sees is perfection in others (don’t exactly know why).

Standing right on the border of pink zone, he was impatiently waiting for his ride for 5 exhausting minutes now, although, the clock said 2 minutes. Just as he was about to wait more (because there’s nothing much he can do about it), metro arrives with blazing horn. He never couldn’t fully understand why they need a stupid horn, it’s not like they are going to get stuck in traffic or anything. Ignoring the thought, he stands firm at his position, quite confident that there’s where one of the door will open up.

 He critically studies his hazy reflection on the glass door, as the train stops where he expected. There is nothing much to adore, he thought gazing at the reflection. With couple of irritating beeps, the door smoothly opens up. His sorry image quickly fades out and he confronts a sharp, sturdy guy, fresh in his prime, about to de-board. Delicately pushing up Ray Ban’s sunglasses with the tip of the index finger, he takes a long step out, gracefully ‘minding the gap’. He elegantly turns to his left, while checking notifications on a high-priced smart phone and simultaneously adjusting the noise-bursting Skull Candy’s earphone. He starts grooving as if on a vibration mode. With every step, he generates gentle footsteps sound, diverting attention to his smart-looking loafers. Every movement was crying out “grace”, and like that he left the platform, still grooving.  

“I want to be him”, metro guy enviously mumbled to himself. 

Do you know how today’s fairy tale goes like? “Magic Mirror, on the wall, who, now, is the acceptable one of all?” And the answer will never be us.
  

Why is it so difficult to understand that by constantly feeding on the miserable thoughts of incompetence, we are only sucking out the true lively spirit out of us.

Why can’t we just love what we are, even if no one else does (especially then)!

Metro and the Boo-Boo stuff

We all are free birds, they claim. Free to think, act and react. But, I am not entirely sure if it makes any sense to those stranded on land, practically wingless. Evidently, we- chickens and ostriches of the bird family- are incapable of making our own choices because of the stubborn mind bossing around and mischievous heart goofing around. We can’t stand by our opinion as we are afraid that, eventually, it’s going to hurt someone’s petty feelings- communal, love, religious; you name it and it’s there, ready to get hurt for no reason. Apparently, we don’t even have the fundamental right to dislike anything or anyone.’ It’s not very polite’, the hypocrites say. ‘Just smile. Absorb your disgust. Be gentle. Act like you give a damn.’

Metro guy- another wingless bird- wondered if he can ever openly express his hatred; his hostility towards the tiny humans- the babies and their irritating boo-boo stuff.

The metro guy always believed that there are two kinds of people that can survive this brutal world. Those who love and adore babies, and others who masterfully pretend that they ‘love and adore’ babies. ‘That’s an ugly little fellow you are carrying’, said no one outloud, while pointing towards a baby (atleast no one alive). It’s a fact that not many people will go on record and say that they hate those little vicious screamers with ‘I-will-shit-anywhere-and-anytime-I-want-to’ attitude. It’s hard to loathe something that every other person so blindly worships as their ‘cutie-pie’ god.

It just takes a stupid yawn, a toothless smile, meaningless utterances (abaaa, boo boo, khi khi) and people frantically go ‘awww’. He never understood what’s so endearing about these petite clumsy creatures. All he knew was that they are the harbingers of deafening noise and choking smell. You can’t even hear yourself think. Your headphones fail you. The book loses all interest. The peace outside turns chaotic. The presence of one child in the compartment marks the end of any possible productive work.

He hated their guts. These creatures easily get what he only dreamed of- a comfortable seat, attention of girls, recognition by the crowd and instant altruistic love.  World may call them adorable, but to him, they are just sadistic dwarves. He clearly recalled an incident when he was hunting for a metro seat. He marked a middle seat in the row, which he guessed was going to get vacant at Rajiv Chowk. He stood there vigilant, hoping for his prophecy to come true. It was a regular family- a timid father, a masculine mother and an infant disguised as ‘sweet’. Soon, the child showed his true colours and began crying for no reason. Parents were clueless.  They shook him, swung him, sang to him but all in vain. Luckily, the mother advised to take the baby outside for some fresh air. Metro guy’s eye sparkled. He anchored his foot in front of their seats, indicating his contendership to those standing nearby. The father obeyed and slowly rose from his seat with baby in his arms. Metro guy added another score in his ‘guess book’. The father was halfway there, almost away from the seat but suddenly that half-witted child stopped crying, maybe for the same unknown reason he started it. The father happily sat back and that little devil turned his face and gave me an evil grin.

‘He did it on purpose’, metro guy shockingly mumbled to himself.