November 14, 2007

Somewhere on Harbour Line

I love travelling in the local trains without my laptop. I don’t mind the crowded compartments. Somehow, the Mumbaikar always turns me around and pushes me towards the door whenever I have to get down. Yesterday, as I was travelling back from Panvel, I saw a lady get up from her seat and try to make towards the door. But somehow, she was not able to. Obviously, she was not a Mumbaikar. She was searching for someone and all she could see were hands clutching at the holders and the rails. Kurla was approaching and she was hysterical. The guy with her was nowhere to be seen. She had no idea where she had to get down. He had just asked her to walk towards the gate. She was almost in tears. And then the unbelievable happened. Like the parting of the Red Sea, the sea of humanity parted and she moved forward searching for a known face. And there he was frantically holding on to the rails, praying that she would make it to the door, the commotion inside a moment back seemed completely unknown to him. Kurla came and they walked out of the station, holding hands, perhaps promising never to let go again.

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