11.50 ki Local

I was invited to a barge party by my Sales team. The boat sailed from Gateway of India at 8 pm. Music, dancing and merry making was the mantra of the night. By the time the boat completed its round and came back to the starting point it was 11.30.

Since I had to reach Vasai I did not wait long and disembarked quickly. My friends offered to drop me off at Churchgate station. The indicator flashed 11.50 Virar. A glance at my watch showed 11.49. With an agility that would put an Olympic athlete to shame, I jumped out of the car even before it stopped, rushed to the platform and bounded into the moving train train, gasping for breath. Dropping into a seat by the window, I closed my eyes and tried to calm my hammering heart.

As my heartbeats slowly returned to normal, I took stock of the situation around me. There was no one around. Once again, my poor heart started beating like wild drums. I got up from my seat and walked further towards the other end of the compartment. A ray of light, a woman. Though she was shabbily dressed, she was my only hope. In normal circumstances, I would have given her a wide berth, but here the situation was different. I sent out a silent prayer and sat two rows away from her, covertly watching her, butterflies in my stomach.

The train slowly entered the next station. I waited with bated breath for somebody to get in, but no such luck. I noticed some ladies lingering outside, but they made no effort to board the train, although I tried my level best to hypnotise them to do so. The same story was re-enacted at the next station Charni Road.

By then I had resigned myself to the fact that I would be all alone in the train with this lady. It was not a very appealing thought. I was determined to get some people into the compartment at the next station. As the train stopped I noticed two pretty girls. It was a do or die situation for me, since with every stop my heart was sinking lower and lower into the pit of my stomach. With all my energy I concentrated on the two girls. Yes, the girls boarded the train. I could have shouted with glee. Once inside I notice their appearance. They were bar girls, but what the hell. Atleast I was not alone in the compartment.

The next station Bombay Central saw a bus load of ladies, kids and toddlers of all shapes and sizes getting in. I cursed myself for wasting my energy on the two girls. The till now silent train became a bee hive of activity. I could not keep my eyes open any longer. Sleep forced my eyelids down and I dozed off. A child’s scream pierced through my muddled brain and woke me up. I looked out and saw that the train had reached Dadar station. It was teeming with people. No need to worry anymore.

Setting the alarm in my mind to go off after an hour, I went off to sleep. I had no idea how long I slept, when loud voices reached my ears. I opened my eyes. For a moment I was disoriented, I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. I looked around me. The crowd was unbelievable. We had reached Bhayander, which is just a few stops before Vasai.

My eyes wandered to the cause of my disturbed beauty sleep. Two huge ladies arguing at the top of their voice. As I sat watching verbal confrontation, they turned to blows. All hell broke loose. The two ladies were trying to rip each other apart, and the crowd instead of separating them, egged them on by taking sides. Choicest of abuses in different languages, including our Rashtra Bhasha flew back and forth. Adding to the commotion were the comments of the male commuters from the gent’s compartments, as they craned their necks to watch the reality show. There was also our very own hawaldar screaming his lungs out asking the women to stop fighting. Though he hurled words at them, he kept a safe distance. Guess he did not want his head bitten off by two angry tigress. For all you know, the ladies might gang up on him. We soon reached Naigaon. Fighting and pulling each other’s hair the ladies got down. Even on the platform, they refused to let go of each other.

The moment the train started, peace resumed. Topic of the conversations changed. No mention was made of the fight. Soon the train pulled into the platform at Vasai Road. It was 1.15. I picked up my back and alighted. As I hailed an auto and made my way home, I marveled at the Mumbaikar’s ability to switch of their thoughts, the moment an incident is over.