All Aboard (in Mumbai)....Part II

It was third year engineering and pretty much the entire class was getting ready for GREs. GRE and TOEFL were the buzz words. Our class topper Sridhar and his sidekick VRS always hung out in the library and everything was very secretive, books they read, classes they took and universities they applied. One day as I was returning a book on Thermodynamics, I saw Sridhar and VRS hastily check out a book and run out.  My curiosity got the better of me and I asked the librarian what the book was- and the response was “Fluid Mechanics, by Frank White.”.

I asked the librarian if there was another copy, but of course, there was none. The other buzz words that floated around the college were BCL (British Council Library) and USEFI. Anyone who carried these acronyms with them were “IN”. Meaning, everyone would want to hang around you to get the “INFO”.

I decided to make the trip to Churchgate to BCL and then go to USEFI to attend an orientation.

In those days I had strict rules at home and I was only allowed to travel up to Andheri by local train. If I needed to travel beyond Andheri I was escorted by a family member. Mind you I was 20 years old, lived with parents and followed every law laid down in the house. (I so wish we had mobile phones at that time, maybe that would’ve relaxed the rules, or maybe if we had a GPS transponder that would’ve helped with the tracking!)

Even so the “Laxman Rekha” was Andheri Railway Station and extended up to the Bhavans College Campus.

(“Laxman Rekha” is a phrase used in Hindi which means- I draw the line here.)

Anyways, Dad arranged for a BCL card, and had the USEFI appointment setup and I was all set for my journey. Dad asked a cousin of mine visiting from Hyderabad to be my chaperone! It was Ramesh’s first time in Bombay and he was all excited.

I had a first class pass. First class was considered the privileged class only because we had working professionals, and college kids (who could afford it because of a student discount). You could travel in “first class”  without the “macchiwalis”, “dabahwallas” or the daredevil who would swing the pole at the entrance to the compartment waving his neck scarf at the oncoming train’s passengers. Quite the thrill, I must say! The air in first class was a notch higher than the regular class, or that’s what the people travelling in it thought so.

In Bombay, let me explain the difference between travelling first and second class - Now, if someone with a second class ticket travelled in first and was found out, he would get the choicest silent treatment from the co-passengers, and he would never be able to live it down.

Unless it was the no-good bum who didn’t mind hopping onto the first class compartment and used foul language to get his way in spite of the silent treatment from his co-passengers. If a professional frowned at the entry of the bum into men’s first class, the bum will look straight at him and say something like, ”Ae Chikne, kaay re, idhar kayko dekhta hai?”

That was the cue to avoid all forms of interactions with the bum.

I asked Ramesh to buy a first class ticket, so he could travel in the men’s first class while I could use my existing first pass to travel to Churchgate. The ticket being too expensive he decided to travel “second” class and at the same time he was not comfortable with me travelling alone in “first” class. To avoid the “Rush Hour” we decided to take the Goregaon Local – this was a train that began boarding at Goregaon and then was an express to Churchgate with stops at Andheri, Bandra, Dadar, & Bombay Central before reaching Churchgate. Ramesh spent a few days in researching the train compartments and their locations on the platform.

Ah, but Ramesh didn’t want me to travel alone and he didn’t want to travel first class, so I decided to travel in second class with him. Based on Ramesh’s research, he advised to choose the 1^st compartment right behind the motorman’s cabin. Now, this was the compartment which was the most “diverse” – it included women, men, “chakkas” (eunuchs), dabbawallas, chickoo vendors, “keli” (bananas) vendors, santra (orange) vendors and anyone who didn’t fit in the other cars!

 Even before the train stopped at the platform, the milieu started…about 300 people raced to find seats in a 100-seater compartment.  Ramesh was ready for this; he jumped into the slowing train and disappeared. I waited until the train stopped to see if he made it in alive. I saw a blue handkerchief waving frantically at me from one of the windows..That was Ramesh! This was my first time in second class, so mustering courage I got on and moved myself in the direction of the handkerchief. I saw Ramesh with 10 people sneering at him, because he had “caught” a seat for me with his umbrella and a plastic bag. I made my way to the “seat” and settled in. The seat plank in front of us, which is a comfortable 3 seater or a wedged 4-seater was crammed with 6 people.

When I travelled first class, the aromas that crossed my nose were smell of perfumes, nail polish, Ponds Lotion or Cuticura powder.

In this case, it was the stench of beedi, paan, PAAN PARAG Paan masala, dried fish and other breakfast odors,

At Bandra, as a stream of passengers boarded the train, I heard a commotion near the door. A young man with dark sun glasses, striped T-shirt, neck-scarf and jeans Mithun shtyle was having an argument with an elderly man who had worn a sparkling white kurta-pajama.

Young Man: “Ae, raaste mein kayko khade lai? Dikh ta nahi hai kya” (Why are you standing in the way cant you see)

Elderly Man: Hum Mudaliar hai, Aabi Aandhra se aayi. (I am Mudaliar, I just came from Andhra)

Young Man: (Probably he felt that the scarf around his neck and sun glasses gave him importance and a boost to his self-image)

Ae,  Idli Sambar, Baju ko hat, mere ko idhar khada hone ko maangta hai. Chal chal bag nikal. (Move aside, I want to stand here, move your bag)

NOTE: Anyone with a distinct south Indian accent while talking in Hindi was considered a Madraasi in Bombay. Though there are 8 states in the Deccan Peninsula of Southern India, pretty much any south indian’s hindi accent is a dead give away! You could be a politician, minister, a sportsman, film star, professional or a regular Joe, all that anyone ever knew about you was Idli Sambar!

Mudaliar: Humara baig bada hain…(My bag is big)

Young Man: Abe Takle, To pair pe rakh na, (O bald one, Keep it on your feet)

[Now remember, real estate on Bombay trains comes at a premium. If you have a seat to sit, consider yourself privileged, if you have a place to stand comfortably with both your feet on the train and hold a bag, consider yourself blessed, if you have enough place to stand even if it is on one foot, and still breathe, consider yourself lucky]

Mudaliar (confused): Pair pe kaise, ..? (On feet, how?)

Young Man: Oe Chamkeele, to sar pe rakhke khada re. (O Shining headed one, then keep the bag on your head.)

(Looks at others ..)Kya aadmi hai yaar.. (What a guy.)

(Looks at confused Mudaliar) Idhar aadmi ko khada hone ko jagah nahin hai aur usko Baig rakhne ka hain. Baig uthake bahar faink ne ko mangta hai. Abe tere ko bag bhi rakh ke khada hone ko hai to Mercediz mein ja na.

(Here people don’t have place to stand and he wants to keep his bag. If you want to stand and hold your bag then go in a Mercedes.)

At Dadar, we had a few dabbawallas board the train.

Now remember, four thousand five hundred semi-literate dabbawalas collect and deliver 175,000 packages within hours and they achieve virtual six-sigma quality with zero documentation. In the dabbawalas' elegant logistics system, using 25 kms of public transport, 10 km of footwork and involving multiple transfer points, mistakes rarely happen. According to a Forbes 1998 article, one mistake for every eight million deliveries is the norm.

The dabbawalas settled themselves near the door and began singing Vittal Bhajans. I guess that was their entertainment for all the work they do!

On top of the Bhajan singing, we heard “Nagpuri santre, theen rupyache dus”. (Oranges from Nagpur, 10 for 3 rupees)

A lady boarded the train with a huge basket of oranges on her head. “Chala, Chala, santre ghya” (Buy my oranges)..

As the train left Dadar station, (I guess Mudaliar was too distracted with all the singing)

Mudaliar: Dadar aaya kya? (Did Dadar station come yet?)

Young Man: Abe ganje, Dadar to kabka nikal gaya, abhi tu Bombay Central mein utarke vaapis train pakad. (O Bald Head, Dadar has gone, now you get off at Bombay Central and take the train back to Dadar)

As soon as Bombay Central station came, Mudaliar was held in position to get pushed out onto the platform. He did get pushed out but sans his shoes!

In a few minutes we reached Churchgate.

Emerging disheveled, Ramesh promised that no matter what the cost he will buy a first class ticket for the ride home.

All Aboard....Part I

“Local to Trenton, all aboard”, came the announcement.  Weary passengers boarded the train as it stood on Platform 11 at NY Penn Station. When travelling in and around the tri-state area  (New York, New Jersey, Connecticut), you will notice that there is a lot of diversity on the trains.

Train journeys usually consist of reading time for me, unless there is entertaining company on board.

I was on the local, coming from NY City to Princeton. 

Opposite to my seat was a middle aged guy, who was talking loudly on his phone in Hindi. Now as you know, when we pass through the underwater rail tunnel, normally everyone loses phone connectivity. And it didn’t matter if we had 3G, 4G, or Sprint, AT&T or Verizon.

            But in this case… underwater didn’t seem to affect this guy, and he was talking as loudly as possible for the entire car to hear.  Either others were invisible to him or he felt he was soundproof....  

At that point I named him “Loudmouth”. His non-stop chatter continued, and when we got to Newark (2 stations later), Loudmouth’s phone began to ring. I think that was his time of revelation, that there was no one at the other end of the line and he was babbling away to nothing.

Loudmouth gave everyone a hangdog grin and much to the vexation of the other passengers, took the incoming call.

As I looked around, there was a group of 6 who had occupied the seats in front of me. There was Grandpa, Grandma, Dad and 3 teens.

This group from 3 different generations was engaged in frivolous conversation. The teenagers were playing on iPhones or iPads and all had headphones.

Grandpa-(baby boomer) adjusting his glasses: “You whippersnappers need to enjoy the train ride and turn off those thinga-ma-hooeys.”

Kid1: (Nods and grunts)

Kid2: Grandpa, This is an iPad.  You can listen to music, surf the web, and do lots of other stuff.

Grandpa:  Music? Why, in my day, we’d all get together ‘round the radio and—

Grandma: Now, don't get started with your stories dear, we have to get off the train you know.

Kid2: Grandpa, here is the iPad; you can turn pages just like a book (shows swipe on the iPad).  Look, it’s Moby Dick, your favorite!

Grandpa: Why ain’t that the darnest thing… (Reads the page and then licks his finger and swipes the iPad, just like the old timers turned pages in a book)  What in the world? The page ain’t turnin’ son!  Young whippersnappers and them fancy gadgets…

Grandma: Dear,  what’s that?

Grandpa:  Looks like something called facebook.

Grandma: What in the Dickens’ is Facebook?

Grandpa: It’s a picture album, can’t ya see?

Kid3: No, no grandpa, it’s—

Grandma: Pictures? How do them pictures get inside there?

Dad: It’s a long process. (Turns to blackberry and sighs heavily)

Kid3: Its 2 clicks, take a picture and post it to a Wall.

Grandma: Wall?

Kid3: There is chat, you can also Poke or you can use the wall.

Grandpa: Walls don't talk.

Kid3: We share messages on Walls.

Grandpa: You mean graffiti. 

Kid3: No post

Grandpa: You need a mailbox, and a zip to get a post, son.

Kid3: That's email

Grandpa: A memo?

Kid3: What's a memo? We don’t call it memo… It’s a Poke or a Wall message …

While Grandpa and Grandma were busy figuring out the “Wall”, I turned my attention to the other side where, I saw a family of 4, mom-dad and twin boys about 4-5 years old.

They had acquainted themselves with a couple of nurses and the mom was talking to them about the twins. The boys just couldn’t sit themselves on the seats. It was as if the seats and their little bottoms were poles which repelled at the slightest touch.

Soon after, they decided to stand on the seats and wave at the other passengers. Next it was time to play Superheroes. And their magic “weapons”- A 12” plastic boomerang and 20” light sabers.

Until then, there was a hum and buzz at the back with people talking, which suddenly stopped at the sign of the Boomerang & Sabers. I could almost in an instant feel the verbal vacuum, and the general ambiance silenced to thinking, ”If these two are released into action, who will be the 1^st target?”

Now it was mom and dad’s turn to negotiate with the boys on which “weapons” they could have. The tables turned at that point – The boys wanted mom and dad to have the Boomerangs and they would keep the Sabers.

The negotiations continued …..the boys asked for - a Spiderman toy, a baseball, SNICKERS Bar, ice-cream sundae, sundae fudge with cherry on top, Roller-Coaster Car Racing Game, Batman Costume for Halloween, Lunch at Burger King, BK crown, visit to a Dinosaur museum…

Wow…. cute & creative! Cuteness counts, more marks for tenacity and leadership. ..

That got me thinking ….When I start my own company, I need those boys on the board…..Excellent tactic going for the big items all in exchange for the Saber! Or maybe I should carry my own Saber; that may take care of quite a few annoyances.

At that time a mom, a little girl and a bawling baby boarded the car. …. They found a seat right behind Loudmouth. Good thing - The bawling drowned out Loudmouths chatter and he moved to another car, Bad thing – we now had a bawling baby.

“Next Stop Princeton Junction,” came the announcement. Grandpa, Grandma and the twins were getting off too.

Time flies when you have such an interesting company ….  I didn’t even realize that I was on board the train for about 90 minutes…!  As we disembark, I am amused by the twins’ ongoing negotiations …, I bet it continued long after….

This train ride had got me all nostalgic about train travels in Bombay. ..I was reminded of one particular episode of my travel to Churchgate on a Goregaon local... (to be continued in Part II)

A good Samaritan

 

I bet everyone may have imagined themselves to be a patty at some point in time….yes, patty as in a sandwich patty, or being in the wrong place at a wrong time or between a rock and a hard place, painted to a corner etc etc……. Or simply in India as everyone would call it “Bali ka Bakra” …

Usually when I travel, I try to be well prepared with arrivals, departures, keep checklists, mental notes, reminders and I am pretty comfortable with long distance travel.
Every journey begins on a positive note & healthy attitude. The last few months of travel have been extraordinary with over-the-top experiences.  Make sure you are seated and belted, keep your trays up and locked, and if needed air masks will be provided if air pressure is low after splitting sides …. (NOTE: barf bags are not provided).

I was taking an early flight to San Diego and when I realized that my seat was not assigned I got to the airport pretty early, 2 hours before departure. Got an aisle seat and all was well. I was ready to relax for a 6 hour flight and catch some shut eye. It was announced over and over again that we had a full flight and people were being requested to give up their seats if the trip was not urgent. I had no choice but to travel for a meeting later in the day.

Once I boarded the flight, I eased into my seat and was ready for my short siesta. I thanked my lucky stars for the aisle seat, there was a big guy at the window and a little girl and I shared the 2 seats next to him. A little later a frantic mom comes up to me and fervently requests me to switch seats with her so that she can sit next to her daughter. The mom in me was overcome with compassion! Without asking where was the seat to swap, I readily agreed. 2 seconds later I found that the swap seat was the middle seat in the row behind me. The entire row was clean! No one was there. I switched and was already dozing off. The attendant was checking empty seats and I pretty much had the entire row to myself.

The announcement came that they were about to leave the gate, I checked and I still had the 3-seater row! Cool! What luck! Sixth sense told me that something was not right…Hmm

As the door was about to close, my eyes glanced at 2, 7ft 300lb bikers, walk down the aisle and were checking seat numbers. Me, who had pretty much dozed off …….well, now my eyes were wide open and there was hope and prayer that they may have got on the wrong flight.

They come right next to me and give me the grin and the look, “OK, patty, Tiny here has the window and Ham here has the Aisle! Any questions?”  I meekly get up from my lap of luxury and Tiny settles into the window seat, with me next to him, and Ham squishes into the aisle seat! I could not find my seat belt…. Anyways why did I need one?  With Tiny and Ham next to me …. I didn’t need belts, shock absorbers or floatation devices!

 

Thus the journey in the steel tube began!

We had not yet reached the runway and I realized that my oxygen supply was getting low. I quickly turned up the air in the air vent hoping it will help. I also noted that I had to sit sideways to give each other enough room…..!

As we reached cruising speeds, I had no external view to my left or right, other than a Dragon tattoo and a biker’s graffiti tattoo on well trained muscular biceps.  Tiny and Ham were fast asleep, that’s when I realized other advantages to having my 2 body guards around. I did not need a neck pillow, effortlessly my neck position rested between Tiny and Ham. My effort to inhale oxygen was automatically causing my respiratory system to do the “Pranayam” or Yogic breathing.

For those who are unfamiliar with "Pranayam" -
Pranayama (breath control) is the breathing technique of yoga that works wonders in increasing physical and psychological performance.
Pranayam stimulates the inner power and energy of a person and makes him light, fitter, healthy, balanced and active.

With blinded view to my left and right, I had to try and reach the air vent every few minutes….I bet thats when my belief in Yoga took roots….. Considering that my mother has been trying to instill belief about “Pranayam” in me for the past 5 years!

 The row of seats in front of me had no way of moving backwards to a sleeping position; the sheer size and strength of the passengers in my row simply did not allow it!
 When the mom with whom I had swapped seats realized my plight, she apologized profusely.

The people who passed by my row to go to the rear of the plane gave me the “You poor thing” look!

 I was not sure what was more pathetic, the look of despair in their faces or my cushioned seating with automatic Yogic breathing! I had a smile on my face not knowing how to react to the situation!

 Time seemed endless, I was glad they didn’t serve meals on the flight. I did not even attempt to put on my seat belt upon landing, didn’t need one.

After a 6 hour, out-of-this-world journey, we landed in San Diego. Ham and Tiny were well relaxed, seemed nonchalant and got off the plane. 

 As for me, I am still recovering from my yogic pose after being stuck in a steel tube for 6 hours in the same stance!

Disclaimer: The article is all humor and satire with no offense to anyone.