The Metro Ordeal

Calcutta had witnessed the infusion of the metro rails for the first time in India. It is something which is synonymous with the city. Travelling in the metro rail at 9 in the morning can be quite an experience. The city of joy has always sported the element of human touch. Whether it is the chaats, lovingly prepared by the vendors with their hands or whether it is the bustling population, or the shoving and pushing during the time of durga pujas. The human touch has always been a hallmark of this city and metro rails have added a new dimension to this. In the mornings metros can be the best and the worst mode of transport at the same time. people are squashed together in the compartments like a stuffed up soft toy and there is not an inch of vacant space. you will be pushed, felt, groped and strangled to such an extent that you that you are left feeling abused. You enter the metro smelling and looking mint fresh and by the time you get down at your station it looks like you have been through hell. Sweaty, obese, grimy men with stinking breaths are pressed so hard against you that you can almost feel their heart beat. Drops of perspiration trickles down their bald head and gets absorbed in your clothes. You have long ago learnt the art of fighting your nausea and the urge to throw up. But the skill of retaining your sanity and consciousness when someone farts is still alien to me. You want to scream but there is no vent for your pent up disgust and scorn. the sadists look at the ladies who are obviously in more pain and discomfort and wallow in their own selfish joy. Whenever a station comes, just pray to god and take what comes like a man. You will be pushed, shoved and jolted from your position. A handful of people get down while a barrage of men are waiting to get in. you would have stopped resisting now. Drenched in sweat (yours and a million other people), with your hair matted against your forehead you are one of them now. I simply don’t know how girls put up with this. When they enter the compartment everybody wants a piece of them. God help the girl who is even mildly attractive. The girls just cover up what’s important while the rest are left to the mercy of the crowd. Some women are war veterans. They just beat their path through the crowd hurling abuses, pushing and shoving people left and right. While the meek are left to wince in pain. It is a war out there and only the fittest survive. I have survived till now but the war has just begun…………