In a matter of 70 minutes, I have been stepped on, pushed by & yelled at, by half the human population in Delhi NCR.
But this is not where ‘today’ starts. I woke up late today, thanks to the ‘all nighter’ that I had pulled earlier. (Project, you know.) I came in late, sweet-talked my way into the class, settling in with a cup of much-needed coffee.
Okay, so, last night, one of my friends had taught me a Malyali word ‘Maire’, which she said, meant ‘Monkey’. So, when I spotted my mallu friend in class, I greeted him with a loud, “What’s up Maire?” He looked dumbfounded but politely told me that it is a swear-word, roughly meaning ‘pubic hair’.
Super. I can never get over that one.
Later, we had to go for an assignment/field-reporting at one of the press conferences happening. We attended it…& hello?…it was brilliant! At least the part with Siddharth Varadrajan (from The Hindu) was. I taped the whole conversation.
Oh no, now comes the nightmare. I had been told that the nearest metro station from the place was INA. So I went there. And - Oh. My. God. The trains were soooooooooo bloody crowded! It was as if I were on an escalator. I got pushed into the train, as if by magic. No, not the, you-rub-a-lamp-&-pop-comes-a-genie-type magic. It was more like a Rumplestillskin act. Completely horrible. Then, I got down at Rajiv Chowk, which is like the most crowded stations in Delhi. I went round & round looking for the right platform. I couldn’t even look at the sign-boards properly, because, as soon as you loose focus, you ram into someone. And people yell at you. Finally, after 20 minutes of station-trotting, I found the right platform & stood in a line. The metro came, jam packed, as usual…
And I got in…just so. For the next 15 minutes, all I could smell was sweat. Sick, man. And whenever a station came, I was jostled & shoved from all sides. The names of the metro stations started to sound more & more unfamiliar, and that’s when I realized, that I had got into the wrong fucking train! Damn it!
I got down, cursing my luck, got into the right train, went to the connecting station, and finally reached my destination. I was sure that by this time I would be smelling like a dead fish. Yep - and I was. Now it should come as no surprise to you, my readers, when I say that it had started raining. Pouring. I looked like a drowned cat by the time I reached home. By the way, I’ve never understood why they say ‘drowned cat’. I mean, a drowned cat wouldn’t look any different than a drowned dog, or a drowned hyena.
Anyway, that’s when it struck me. If I’ve had such a terrible time, the only way to counter-act would be to write as funny a description as I can, of it.
So here I am.
Continue reading...
But this is not where ‘today’ starts. I woke up late today, thanks to the ‘all nighter’ that I had pulled earlier. (Project, you know.) I came in late, sweet-talked my way into the class, settling in with a cup of much-needed coffee.
Okay, so, last night, one of my friends had taught me a Malyali word ‘Maire’, which she said, meant ‘Monkey’. So, when I spotted my mallu friend in class, I greeted him with a loud, “What’s up Maire?” He looked dumbfounded but politely told me that it is a swear-word, roughly meaning ‘pubic hair’.
Super. I can never get over that one.
Later, we had to go for an assignment/field-reporting at one of the press conferences happening. We attended it…& hello?…it was brilliant! At least the part with Siddharth Varadrajan (from The Hindu) was. I taped the whole conversation.
Oh no, now comes the nightmare. I had been told that the nearest metro station from the place was INA. So I went there. And - Oh. My. God. The trains were soooooooooo bloody crowded! It was as if I were on an escalator. I got pushed into the train, as if by magic. No, not the, you-rub-a-lamp-&-pop-comes-a-genie-type magic. It was more like a Rumplestillskin act. Completely horrible. Then, I got down at Rajiv Chowk, which is like the most crowded stations in Delhi. I went round & round looking for the right platform. I couldn’t even look at the sign-boards properly, because, as soon as you loose focus, you ram into someone. And people yell at you. Finally, after 20 minutes of station-trotting, I found the right platform & stood in a line. The metro came, jam packed, as usual…
And I got in…just so. For the next 15 minutes, all I could smell was sweat. Sick, man. And whenever a station came, I was jostled & shoved from all sides. The names of the metro stations started to sound more & more unfamiliar, and that’s when I realized, that I had got into the wrong fucking train! Damn it!
I got down, cursing my luck, got into the right train, went to the connecting station, and finally reached my destination. I was sure that by this time I would be smelling like a dead fish. Yep - and I was. Now it should come as no surprise to you, my readers, when I say that it had started raining. Pouring. I looked like a drowned cat by the time I reached home. By the way, I’ve never understood why they say ‘drowned cat’. I mean, a drowned cat wouldn’t look any different than a drowned dog, or a drowned hyena.
Anyway, that’s when it struck me. If I’ve had such a terrible time, the only way to counter-act would be to write as funny a description as I can, of it.
So here I am.
