Life is a wonderful Twister

Life is a wonderful twister.

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I look into the hours of the day where I do nothing and still feel I have enjoyed them. Everything is so hazy and unpredictable when things are happening around you.

There are days where I love to be in my life, I like to cajole myself for all the good times and the hope that they'll be everlasting. I want to live every moments of those repeatedly, sing a song along, play a band within my soul, and make it feel my life is worth everything I could ask for.

But with experience I now know, life always has other plans.

The scientific being in me would analyse, is it the fact that every brain tissue and every moment of impulse brings a randomized identic response to the human being? And maybe every event that happens in life with you and the people who surround you is just a conjecture of the combined efforts of such responses that each of them had no control on anyways. Its roughly a mind numbing explanation, a good way for me to release myself for all responsibility of anything happening around me, good or bad.

Life has taught me that it is not always true.

The philosophical being in me tries to explain that life is made up of a series of events - written in another world, a self evolving entity called as the GOD makes and revolves them to guide them on the path of evolution, growth, sustenance and finally annihilation of each living entity in the universe. The cycle begins and is woven as a complicated web of events, actions, perceptions, sentiments with each individual person.The self evolving entity called GOD has a client app living inside each individual, who communicates with the server app (remotely and in encrypted form) and runs algorithm inside it based on inputs from the life of various persons, and his own sense of what he/she sees around.

In any of the cases, I do feel there is something in the external world, which is not in my control - something which i someday chose to fear of, something which i someday trust completely, something which i someday can't stand with, and something which someday I will fill up myself into -- as my soul rests to eternity in the abode of complete freedom from the life cycle.

What that something is, I have no idea.... and maybe I need ideas from more individual person around me like you... those who can tell me what they feel about this.

Last but not the least, a very important question -> I read in one of the books that the answer of this questions are obtained only at the moment when your soul is released from your body - is that true? If that is the case, I don't know why i feel its worth finding it out sooner than later.

Trust the unknown above is taking care of you enough. Let him bless all of you.

--

True Regards,

Chirag Khara

- When my heart beats

Side Effects of the Relation-Tonic!

“I have had enough of it man! It’s sweltering, this feeling. You are looking at the most wonderful person you know for a lifetime, and you feel all your words go prick stone and hit back without any effect on her.” Pause from him. My shoulders dropped in the sudden realization of where this would go.

The bartender returned back with the liquor served in the perfectly traditional ‘Grande Margarita’ holding. The lucid reddish Negroni looked fresh and clear with the subtle touch of the diluting ice and the troubled Orange garnish struggling to stay atop the pouring.

I almost always get bowled out by the irony of these situations. Here’s a guy, investing a fortune from his daily wage on a populous preparation of gin, wine and Campari; but he cannot come over his most inhabitable problems, let alone enjoying a sip of his drink. It seemed like it was the holocaust of the art of wine, an event by the river Glen, every time we went. But to be fair on his part, his problem was huge. He was in a relation.

Paulo, the bartender had seen us many times, loitering on the dilapidated Ivy Wall pub in Spalding, Lincolnshire where we worked. And before I could mutter my order, he retorted, “Your ‘Virgin Cuba Libre’ is right on the far corner. Help yourself with a stream-full.” In a pub barely filled with failed patriarchs drinking their shallow pockets off, I was indeed a mock-worthy non-drinking, coke-guzzling, donut-popping Simpson; a useless rhetorician for the love of god!

“Do you know what? She’s doing it again.” The pause was over. “Relentless gestures… thousands of discussions… and all leads to nothing with her. Everything happens exactly as she wants.” he squirmed as he spoke.

Let me explain the background here. The situation here wasn’t the traditional Devdas one, where the Badshaah has lost his kingdom of love and so ends up in the most remote of the locations in the world (conveniently, his best friend Chunilal’s place). This one was even trickier then those Bollywood gimmicks. The “Badshaah” here had got his “Begum”, but in the not-so-surprising twist, she turned out to be the Marianne Williamson of their relation, the one who boiled out the ounces of her wit to keep it alive.

And for some of you female readers to know, beware it gals, that’s the untouched side of any guy’s guitar, it’s his alter-ego, if I may put it so. And as far as my friend was concerned, the chords were hitting real hard, as every sip sank through his gulps and more wine began to flow through the evening... and into the night.

“It doesn’t make sense Rishi; to me, it is just the same old story you tell, just written in a different way.” I began to retract from a prospective torturous session of why’s and who’s and swears to some bloody nobody whom he would refer as the “Satan of his relation”. The matter wasn’t big. But that’s what these love relations bring. Every ounce of a trivial matter looks gigantic to them. Damn it you love-birds, marauders of peace!

“Story? You… think it’s a story? I’m in a bloody fix here. Do you remember the last time we had a small fight? I told you how I have wanted her to dress herself down now. But she wouldn’t listen to me, man! Every time we have a small fight, she does such stuff which makes me feel angry.” And I knew what was coming here. Out came his long lost look in the air, a glance of indignation to the ‘Satan of his relation’, as he gulped up the whole quarter of Negroni as if he was drinking lime.

During such heartbreak-strokes, you have to check if your patient is still alive in your world. My way generally was to pinch on his shoulder gently, and point in some random direction. This would break him from the spell of emotions that had gripped him all over, thus allowing me to start over my speech.

“Look Rishi, I think you get over protective when you start asking her to dress like the way you please. Is it all about this that makes you so upset?” I exclaimed.

“No Ranjit, that’s not the only problem. Nobody in our project knows about us being involved in a relation. Every other guy still counts her as single and available. Dressing herself like Princess Consuela makes it even difficult for me…..” His awkward pause meant it would be too difficult for him to find words to describe.

“So are you jealous about others? Are you insecure in your relation? Are you angry on her for trying to please you by dressing herself up?” In situations like these, non-certified relation consultants like us think like detectives trying to figure out what’s exactly in the assailant’s mind.

“Listen Ranks, I am not insecure or anything like that. All I am saying is, I am not going to be grounded by nonsense anymore. I have my own self-respect damn it! Why should I always be the one who goes to her for making up after fights?” He continued shouting loudly in front of me; a guy who was sitting at a distance of 10 to the power minus infinity light years away from him. Well, this case had no future…. but I was the only detective in town for him, I was his only knight in shining armour!

“Rishi… listen…. Take a pause and think about the situation. This girl introduced you to her mother when they came here sight-seeing. She is trying to spend as much time with you as possible even without letting others know. She has acknowledged to you about her affection. You must not let such trivial matters come in the way.” I tried to convince him that you can never win with girls in matters of fights. That’s always the final result of every relation.

“By the way, how did it go with her mom? Hope you didn’t mess it up.” I interjected to find out more about their meeting, it could prospectively become the headlines of tomorrow’s gossip.

“Oh yaa, that went well. I had her decently impressed. She ended up complimenting me, telling her daughter that she hoped they would find a groom for her who is as good as me.” He narrowed his vision to smile at the glass in front. I think he could see her mom’s face in it. Our news paper editor would be thoroughly disappointed with this update.

“So is that good news or a bad news? I mean, her mother directly meant that she had no intentions to accept you as a groom! Man you are in trouble.” I paused immediately, realizing I was putting more mess rather than solving his problems.

“I am not bothered with her mom’s response as much as with her attitude. She is so nice, but such an obstinate when we fight. It’s kiddish to try to even out on me by such silly behaviours.” He was frowning hard as he said. I was glad she was not around. If she'd heard a whisker of our conversation, he'd be mauled in the same way as Tom from the “Tom and Jerry show”; unwittingly conned by every of Jerry’s moves.

“So how long have you been not talking to her?” I wanted to move on and check out how much damage was there to be repaired.

“It’s been 2 days and 4 hours now since I last heard from her. I have texted her twice and got no response.” The time he had not spoken to her would be directly proportional to the amount of booze that would flow today. This estimation was very important.

“Why are you doing this to yourself Rish? I mean look into the situation here. You both know you love each other. But still this madness and these silly fights? You guys are no longer in college. You have to dig out these bad times by staying together. See it’s clear that you're being extra protective about her.” I paused to check he was listening and continued.

“Let’s assume she does wear dresses you don’t affirm on, after you guys get into fights. Even if she is silly trying to be nasty on you by such actions, but why don’t you try to avoid being in fights in the first place. Try to concentrate your efforts in solving the problem. Talk openly and don’t think who is initiating the conversation. That’s not important.”

“And listen mate you must realize girls like to dress so that they can compete with others girls wherever they may be. You are silly to be bothered by this situation, let me forewarn you, even if you marry her and imagine yourself after 10 years going out for a party with her, even then she would want to be the shining star of the evening.”

“And though the probability is very less, but let’s says if I was also married to somebody; even my wife would want to be the most spoken about women in the party. That’s how women are. That’s their nature.”

“Wow Ranks! You know so much about women. If I had your spark, I would be having 3-4 girl friends by now.” I didn’t know whether I should take it as a taunt or as a compliment. I think the drink was lending him a kick that distracted him from the problem. Drunken conversations are always so hard to deduce.

“I’m afraid the truth is…. because I know so much about women, they don’t choose to be with me.” I explained. I knew I had given up a golden rule on enjoying extended years of happiness and freedom in the realms of bachelorhood.

“Anyways coming back to my point, listen dude! Don’t think about why you always have to go back trying to cheer her up. After these hot rounds of back-and-forth bickering, all you need is time to lend its healing hand. After sometime the affection for each other over-powers these pointless blindsided fights.” I paused to appreciate my own explanatory skills.

“If I feel for her and miss her so much, why can’t she ever come to me even once with a smile and bring forgiveness?” Even in his drunken half-wit condition, it was a million dollar question he’d prod, and a destitute like me would have no answer.

Nevertheless, when nothing works out, we detectives unleash our last weapons of mass reconstruction. Here’s how it goes. After a moment of silence I began in a deep impulsive voice.

“Why do you think about these lame things that make you look egoistic in your own eyes. You need to understand how much you are missing out on the love and affection you can get from her.”

“You dream in the sore-cold nights, with the 3.5 tog duvets laden on you, remembering the good old times when you had the early morning breakfast at her nice little house. Remember the times you tried learning Tamil exclusively for her, when you can barely speak your mother tongue Marathi for more than 10 words at a stretch.” I stopped as his eyebrows rose in disapproval, but the poignant self in him had taken over, and he was left with no strength to voice it.

“Try and remember the evening you told me about, the one when you were alone with her for the first time skipping the boring movie and taking her to the gift shop and buying her the cherubic baby archer. It was the first time when you made her feel so special.” I continued in my hysterical voice accentuating like a nanny telling a fairy-tale to a baby listening innocently with raised eye brows.

“And also the one when you proposed her… the night of the candle light dinner. The one where you lit the small red candle made out of her favourite Belgian dark chocolate and shaped like the teddy bear holding a heart with scribbles all over it that played the romantic tune when you wind it up, and when you spoke the magic words to her.” I was exhausted. My, my… so much of a speech for a stupid fight, I was getting annoyed myself for having to stretch my imaginative side.

“At that time you were the first to speak. So why not now?” I knew I had once again made a bland illogical and stupid argument, but luckily who was listening?

Tears were streaming from the eyes of the “beer-holder”, as they missed the tiny little opening of the almost empty glass he was holding. He looked like lost in the world of Alice, which people called as Wonderland. I always thought those stories were more haunted and weird than wonderful. Need I ever explain further why I am single?

Emotions had filled him up and I knew my trick had worked. Now even an earthquake or a volcano would not stop him from going and meeting her - and, for like the 1,50,000^th time, once again plead forgiveness.

Paulo came over to knock us out of the wooden upholstery which we had warmed up spending an hour of ranting from him and “Prem Vedanta” lessons from me. Finally, we trudged our way out of the pub and into the chilly, silent and dull evening.

As we strolled silently, I mulled over the poor state of my friend. In an evening of filled emotions, a guy had laughed, cried, shouted, and even tried to listen like a stone, to everything that I said, which unfortunately he already knew. He spent a fruitless evening of pain and agony, not enjoying the 37 bucks he spent at a ready-to-fall apart pub; and above all the costliest, in the vicinity of the world’s most boring company - of mine.

This small story is devoted to all you love birds. I have tried my best to keep it as less scary as possible. But to those like me, who rightly love their bachelorhood, this is a lesson in the scariest and the most inevitable part of every love relation.

--
Best wishes,

Chirag Pradip Khara

Loneliness - The ideal state of emotion

Whenever we talk about all time great movies or all time great actors, we do get the mention of the Tom Hanks starrer “Cast Away”. Everything in the movie is awesome. All that is most striking in the movie is just the imagination that being alone for such a long time makes us feel so unnatural to our human tendency.

It’s true that we are a social animal. In fact every living thing in this world is. However life teaches us the most bizarre lessons as we grow, one which each of us experience in the journey of our livelihood, however different we maybe. Simply put it says that the probability of we having the most control on our emotion is only possible when we are under the least influence of the social being in our mind and body.

I know it sounds bizarre enough to everybody. But every relation that we bring in our life - the family that comes from the natural order of descending of our earlier roots, to the friends which we mutually choose as our own – all of these together make us loose our complete control on our emotion.

For instance, I didn’t like the Apple pie that my friend served me on my last trip to Vegas, but we were on a vacation and that would be the last thing to do lest my friend’s mood went off. I have coaxed my mom innumerable times on how important it is for her to take more care of her health with her growing age. But there’s only some amount that she can hear of me. whatever I may say. And that brings me worry, care and also fear to some extent.

Loneliness is that powerful state of being which makes us hear exactly what frequencies our heart is emitting. Its the ideal state for pure unadulterated state of emotion. With people around, though, it’s all just noise that decimates us from any chances for our actions to be able to decode and act exactly on what our heart really wants.

Nothing is ideal in this world, resources are limited and we need to share everything we have, so consequentally also our control on emotions. That’s the reason why nothing is permanent in this world. Everything is self-evolving, ever changing.

And tell you what guys... all these thoughts can only arouse in your mind when you are truly alone. Its when you have no fear of anybody, not even your own. Like I am sometimes, a lone writer possessed by the free world of possibilities. Funny, ain't it?

Let me know what you think. And yaa.... just do a small favor. Make yourself completely lonely, away from any other emotions or burdens, while you share with me your insights.

It Happened Again on a Valentine!

“I’m getting late for the flight, will you mind dropping me over to the airport before you leave for your office affairs? I would like to make sure I am in time before the Australian delegates meet up at the airport.” her voice was deep, slightly unpleasant and Rajni was crying from within.

“Give me five minutes will you? The flight is still five hours from take-off; you shouldn’t be too late I guess.” Though Sunder, her husband, was calm and collective he could be lazy on a weekend day.

“I am not surprised you wouldn’t be too bothered for it. But I think I better reach on my own, I would need to start practicing on this sooner than I had imagined.” She stopped making the sofa and turned to look at him. He was stung by her words; their eyes met. The silence was killing.

It’s always bitter after a five year marriage is about to be shattered. All that was happening was not in the control of either of them, or that is what both of them assumed. Those two souls, who waited for surprise gifts and romantic letters all the time in the last seven years of their married life, were eventually preparing to end their lovely times. Last night was the night when they both screamed, shrieked, paused, pondered, stared with defying eyes and punches of belligerent words that they would never imagine they would ever say to each other. Last night was just another event, one which any other perfectly harmonical beings could have, but which a couple should never go through.

***********
“I can’t think of anybody apart from you! From the last two years it is only been you that I have thought about, it is only you whom I want all my life. Will you marry me Rajji?” It was Fourteenth February, a Valentine’s day when Sunder proposed Rajni. He had dated her only twice before he proposed her, but they knew each other for more than two years now.

The reflection of the dim colourful lights danced on the calm flowing water near the wonderful still lake of the Afrin Resort in Lonavala, a beautiful hill station in India. Her innocent yet naughty smile of affection had said it all. He carved the stunning ring in her slender fingers as she drove her hands forward in gleeful acceptance. That moment was the most relishing one for him. They danced on the solemn music with their hands together; nothing was moving. Everything around seemed to be halted – time was still and love was in the air. Sunder was lost in the gentle flailing movements of her beautiful flowing hairs. Their world was finally complete and it was visible to them both crystal clear in each others eyes. When he kissed her a good bye that day; a storm was brewing within both of them; a storm of untold happiness and sudden realization that the deepest desires of their heart were finally their own till eternity.

***********
“The airports of Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore, Chennai and many other metropolises in India are under red alert. Security has been sounded for possible threats of other hijack incidents en-route the APAC destinations. Officials fear they may need to prepare for a 9/11 situation. The Qantas Airways Flight Q123 has confirmed the hijack of the plane and officials are discussing the matter with Australian Freight agencies.” For more updates do not go away we’ll come back after a short commercial break.

“CRASH!!” The cup of coffee slipped from Sunder’s hands without notice. He desperately looked for the remote and tried to switch over to other news channels. NDTV news read the BREAKING NEWS as “confirmed reports have finally arrived that the Qantas Airways Flight QA123 heading from the Kingsfordsmith airport Sydney to Chhatrapati Shivaji terminals Mumbai has been hijacked by unknown assailants. This happened on…” the words were lost as his ears failed to pick up any further. He was shocked beyond senses.”

Desperate impulse drove him to call his parents and tell them about the incident. Rajni was travelling in the same flight QA123, on her way back from the project work on the Australian trip.

***********
“ATTENTION!!SWOSH!!! Nobody moves from your seat! We will not harm anybody unless you act smart! All of you be aware that this plane is being directed to an unknown destination. The pilots are under our control and everyone like me doesn’t care for our lives. If anything silly is done, we will park this plane directly on hell!” Men of the size of maritime bandits all covered with black robes stood on vantage points at the doorways of the plane.

It took 10 minutes before the severity of the problem sunk into Rajni. She was sweating all over, afraid to even move her hands and wipe the sweat forming on her slender neck and palms. One of the terrorists posted right above her aisle seat was sending instructions as loudly as he possibly could, deafening any senses left in her. When silence fell, she could hear her heartbeats prominently. All eyes hovered around frightening faces of each other, everybody vary of any unknown attack that could possibly be the end of their lives. As time flew every passenger in the plane was sure that they had passed over India and they were now heading to an unknown new destination, possibly somewhere in the Gulf. Nobody knew what fate would bring for them.

Rajni turned her gaze slowly to the window of the aeroplane. She had to calm her growing nervousness. News had come that somebody from the Business Class had developed a trauma and succumbed to shock and apprehension. As she looked out, her mind switched to a scene of white cotton like clouds in the midst of which the plane flew - the plane in which all the travellers were expecting their last journey.

As a tiny tear rolled over her eyes, she saw a huge hole forming into a massive ball of cloud cover. As she blinked her eyes to see clearly, she saw Sunder running towards her trying to hold her arms and get her out of the plane. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if in a sense of relief to believe her dream had come true. Even as they all lay crouched up on their seats, Rajni tried to chase her mind away from him; but it was only Sunder whom she could see out there, far-off in the mountains steadily coming closer to her, trying every breath of his own life to save her. He was nowhere, yet everywhere.

***********
The news had brought panic in both the countries. Envoys from both the countries were making statements to news channels and the Aviation and Army officials were busy communicating with the terrorist networks that could have allegedly done this. Relatives of all those who were travelling in the plane were out at the Mumbai terminals screaming in anguish and crying their heart out to the airport authority to do something! Human life is so precious to some human and so worthless to some others.

Sunder was at the airport within two hours from the time they first broadcasted the incident. Everybody he knew from the government officials and agencies were contacted. All he could hear was a kind assurance from the other side, while they asked him to keep his cool and stay connected. He was burning from within. Every moment he heard her call him out. He saw her calling him out while driving on the way back to the airport from the Australian counsellate office.

GPS tracking machines were tracking the planes for the good of thousands of officials from all around the world, all not knowing what is going to happen with the plane. After more than 3 hours of its journey offset from the regular flight course, everybody was concerned if the plane did carry as much extra fuel to carry a further distance. When you feel death is as close as this, any proportion of optimism cannot amount you from thinking about the worse to come. The silence inside the plane was killing, to each of them time seemed to have stopped passing by. Slowly but steadily, all aboard the flight could see the corpse of 100 more people lying around them. A miracle was necessary.

***********
“Have you guys ever tumbled yourselves into a swimming pool? Well if you haven’t had that fun, here is a chance for all of you to do so. The only difference is that my altitude dial here reads 16,000 metres above the sea and the swimming pool will have no shores from where we will all nose-dive into the ocean! So grab your life jackets, wear your oxygen masks and be ready to live the moments before your death.” The pilot smirked heavily in the most disgusting manner and laughter ensued from maniacs all around the frightened travellers.

“Its my first attempt to flying a plane down, so all the small lot of us who would still be alive, don’t worry we have rescues boats waiting not far away.” he continued roughly. Everybody was shell-shocked. Nevertheless the instructions were followed by all. Since the plane was not so crowded, all the occupants had been asked to shift over to the end of the plane near its tail, possibly to avoid them from being near to the pilots.

None of the two cockpit goons had any training in actual landing, except the Pilot Simulator software’s they had played around with. These men are born to kill or get killed. Their essence to life is different from human. The sophisticated Boeing 747 was equipped with the Instrument Flight Rules chart, but all they knew was the visual reference of the satellite pictures that they drew and copied on their map sheets. The Instrument Landing System was severely damaged while trying to overpower the actual pilots but the Visual Gliding Slope Indicator was working.

While at cruise altitude, the pilots had strewn the engines for power too much which led the turbine blades to break. Consequently three of the four engines had stopped working. The plane backup batteries were fast draining out of power supply to the hydraulics and the control systems due to the engine failure.

The failure meant they could no longer raise their height but the descent was very necessary to be a controlled one. Rajni saw from the seat that they were nearing a shore near the horizon, nobody knew where it was, but it certainly was a lonesome island. There was no need of dumping fuel to avoid fuselage tank blasts; the tanks were exhausted from the extra long journey and the plane was gliding and gathering speed on its way down.

As the plane gathered speed, it was necessary to maintain the pressure on the slats of the wings to decrease the overall camber and provide the balance lift against the drag coming from the resistance of the falling aircraft under the influence of gravity. Suddenly the flaps on the wings lost control and the lift-off using the slats was lost. The plane tilted over sharply to the left and the rudder lost control over the rotation due to increased air pressure on its disoriented side. The plane was now nose-diving into the ocean, unless…

The sudden fall caused the pilots to hurtle directly on the front pane of the planes cockpit controls and one of them scrambled over, trying to grip over anything possible. For a moment he couldn’t see any part of the plane but just the vast ocean of water right in front ready to embrace him. The glass shudder was developing cracks due to the heat generated from the friction he could clearly see the plane falling over, while he was still strung on the leg strap of the aero-guiding equipments they wore. Nothing happened for a few seconds.

The other pilot accidentally fell over the elevator control and as the plane jolted in the attempt to nose up itself, both of them held over the landing steers applying all the pressure they could on the brake pedal, to make the tilt back complete.

When the plane crashed into the water, the heightened gravitational pull, and the tilt over the normal had grazed off much of the speed and the plane travelled the last few seconds at 70 knots before hitting the water. When it hit nose down, the jolt made everybody numb. When it tunnelled into the water, it lost speed quickly and rapidly rose back to the surface nose up. The main fuselage was all exhausted and no fire break-up could damage any power circuits in the plane interior. The plane tails had burst into fire as they approached water and as they greeted it, the fire was put out on its own before it could spread.

The escape was miraculous, but few of them had disoriented themselves in the fallout. A few being unable to swim and were in panic, a few of them were desperately trying to stay afloat on the half floating plane. Many of them clung to the over-wing of the planes as the front exits and emergency get-offs were burst open. People who were scarcely half-alive from the shock and who could swim were taking on the helpless people to the uppermost part of the wings, trying to pray the plane remains afloat long enough. The shoreline was visible and so were the hopes of the innocent people. Two speed boats guiding a medium carrier liner appeared onto the scene within few minutes; the terrorists had finally done all that they could with such a huge risk element. Six people died in the total encounter and the desperately downcast air hostess was asked to confirm the news on an unknown frequency transmit from the shore. Nobody knew who the six people were but that was not important at the moment for the two governments.

Rajni was still alive, breathing heavily but her blood veins were filled with saline water from the heavy sea. She knew swimming. But nobody is trained to fight the waves of an ocean in the swimming pool lessons. Her body was choked and sore. In half an hour the news was confirmed all over the world that the terrorists had taken the help of the Somalia pirates to land the plane in water near an unknown island off the coast! Their demands were unknown and so was the state of every passenger on the plane.

***********
Three days had passed and Sunder ate scarcely. Nothing was as disturbing as the fact that reporters, government or even the police and navy had no information to give. Relatives of all those who were abducted had made their homes in the airport emergency accommodation wards. Be it a Hindu, a Muslim, a Sikh, a Christian or any other religion that the world has known; everybody was praying. Religion and its barriers are not for the common man. The common man knows only that they have the independence to live the way they can and must cause the least hindrance to all around them. Some people had their parents aboard the Australian Airliner; some had their son/daughter coming back for a vacation from their studies abroad. Some company representatives had Australian delegates arriving in the airlines. Everybody knew that six of the total one hundred and forty three passengers are no more and seventeen had been severely injured. Who were they, nobody knew.

“If there is anything in this world that I can ask for today or anytime ahead for the rest of my life; I beg you Oh Lord! I want my Rajni back!” Sunder was praying to god every moment. Nothing else was visible to him; he did not care to call up at his office and let know what was going in his mind. “Tring! Tring!” he looked at his mobile and saw the lawyer calling him up. He cut the call instinctively and a chill ran down his spine and he sank back on the chair behind him.

“I don’t know how you would ever agree for it after all that has happened. But Rajni, I cannot dream to live a single day without you. My heart still beats only for you and I can do anything but be separated from you even for a moment. I love you, I want you. I want to hug you and stay close to you all my life.” He pictured himself saying this to her, he was going to do it. “Divorce is just out of question.” He would tell this to her.

“I am sorry Sunder, life does not always give a second chance.” Rajni would say this and walk away. He woke up from the dream and saw tear drops from his eyes. A hazed figure of Rajni came right in front of him and slowly and steadily…. faded away in the murky background of the empty airport departures.

***********
It was the twelfth day now. They were trapped somewhere in the jungles of Somalia in a distant town near Merca not far from the shoreline city of Mogadishu, the capital of Somalia. Nobody knew what would happen. The twelve days seemed like twelve years for each of them. All were stoned.

If we ever believed that silence can speak, this was the time when all the remaining alive 125 passengers would know it was true. Nobody was talking but a thousand words were spoken in the falling eyes and the dissembled movements of everybody. In a single room lay all of them, exhausted from even praying for their freedom now. And suddenly on the thirteenth day something happened. Everybody was ushered in their sorry state to an unknown set of trampers that rode them towards the shore lines. That afternoon a huge Indian ship arrived at the international borders to grab the abandoned ship wreck in which the pirates had carted all the passengers. Rajni was alive, but for her and for all of them medical attention was the prime necessity.

***********
He had not slept well for many days now, but today he was feeling fresh like a lilac. He was getting impatient like the honey bee. The ship was about to arrive and all the relatives of the released prisoners were waiting at the docks. As the ship arrived tears welled in everybody’s eyes.

When he first caught a glance of her, his heart missed a beat. She was looking out all over for somebody, while being guided by one of the Coast Guard patrolman. The medical team had shortly arrived and everybody was being directed to meet their relatives directly on the hospital wards. When she finally locked him into view the medical team practitioners dragged them all to the waiting ambulances.

The first gaze was expressionless. Both stared at each other almost in relieved disbelief that their prayers were answered. No matter of activities around could disturb their gaze over each other. When Sunder tried reaching out to her the authorities stopped him. Medication for each and every of the passengers was the most important.

The drive from the dock to the hospital was a crazy one, but Sunder could only meet her after 5:00 pm. When he could finally venture it to meet her, she was all clean and fresh, resting on the bed and looking at the ceiling blankly. As he opened the door she turned her eyes and saw him coming in. Their eyes were locked for a long time to each other. Their hands met each other and he settled next to her. She had weakened considerably, but she was next to him and that was more than important for him. He caressed her fingers and kissed her palm gently and before he knew tears welled from his eyes. Nothing was spoken and yet they both shared the grief of so many days of turmoil and separation from each other.

In a matter of a few days of separation, both of them discovered how incomplete they were without each other. This day happened to be the Fourteenth of February, a Valentine’s Day. The seventh Valentine’s day and indeed more memorable than anyone that they had spent together or would spend together all their life.

The reflection of the dim light in the hospital room fell on the glass of water next to her bed where she lay. As she was lost watching the glass, memoirs of the last few adventurous days she went through flashed by in her mind. And when Sunder re-entered the room after a brief interval of discussions with the doctor, he held the same stunning ring in front of Rajni and said, “It was exactly seven years from now that this ring was carved for the first time in your beautiful fingers. It is all yours and can never be separated from you. Can you accept the ring back and also the jerk that parcelled this one for you for a lifetime?” And once again, she smiled in gleeful acceptance. We all are jerks aren't we?

*********** When my Heart Beats,
- Chirag Khara

The Gift of Travel Times!

After more than a dozen of friends and relatives asked me whether hopefully now I am settled in London and enjoying the London tube travel, I thought it was my moral duty to let everybody know exactly on how I feel about my travel life in both my earlier days and the present times. I know my friends and relatives love me so much, they deserve to know every minute detail of my analysis and observations; so here’s a short account of my findings.

If any of you feel this is quite lengthy, please don’t forget to appreciate the fact that I took the pain to go to such acute details in letting the truth peek through to all of you my dear ones. [In other and actual words, nobody comes back to me complaining this one was too lengthy a read, as I am sure you will enjoy getting truths unveiled and maybe your own similar personal memories unleashed..!! ;-)]

Introduction:

Like a giant earthworm charging towards you with an undesirably great speed, the Mumbai locals are a scaring view for the first time. The scene is chaotic; the profligacy is right in front of you; hundreds and thousands of humans are jumping all around the doors of the train even while it is still in gentle motion, fighting for the survival of their daily lives and business routine. A few travellers get down when the train just arrives on the platform, jumping out for an early exit to ensure they are not strung up in the sea of anxious waiting people, all ready to aboard the train amongst all odds.

And do you ask for compassion? If you are allowed to travel with yourself still alive, that’s all the sympathy you deserve in a Mumbai local journey. A city with a beaming large number of millions using the train on numerous occasions in a single day, Mumbai locals is aptly their lifeline.

The London tubes demand the densest populous - they are the most ancient tube lines in the world. Very few people know the fact that the London tubes network is originally a combination of various independent train services. It’s astounding because of that, considering on how they have now managed binding these complex services together to give a single huge network carrying the oldest tube line in the world!

275 stations on 12 different lines, 250 miles to cover out of which 93 miles in deep tunnels, 408 escalators and 112 lifts, make it an amazing maze inside the city. However the truth remains that more than half of the London underground lines are actually over the ground.

Trains and description :

The London tubes are quite smaller and compact as compared to the Mumbai locals. An irony here remains that the average height of a traveller in India is much lesser than that of a London traveller! Which is really amazing because while I know a 6.3-5” guy is very normal in UK, they always have to bend over to actually enter/exit from a London tube. Disgusting how they missed the measurements, isn’t it?
The seats in a London tube are not arranged in single rows, they are stuck at the very end of the compartments running parallel all the way through, of course barring the doors and the ends of the compartment. This gives plenty of places for people to stand near the door and within the compartments.


However the Indian trains have the more traditional design of horizontal column-like seats of 3 seaters, on both sides of the entrance door, with alternate columns facing to each other. This gives plenty of seating room but less standing room. Of course the trains are bigger in size and therefore can hold plentiful more than a London tube.

Another major difference in the London tubes is that they do not have specific compartments reserved for first class holders or any separate compartments for the ladies. With more number of compartments than an average Mumbai local, and flanged with glass compartments stuck to each other, the London tubes surely do look like tubes moving around on wheels. Again taking care of the travellers is a bit easy in London, if one of their lines is not in service; they have replacement bus services working from that station. This is surely very good for new travellers.

Rules of the Lines:

Every line that is as old as both of these lines, (around 150 years old now!) have seen relentless years of service, growth and changes. And because they are so much a part of the daily lives of majority of their population; the people tend to follow some practices to carry on the daily travel without much hassles.

The Mumbai trains have their own rules and regulations; of course these rules are not laid out by general public as ‘rules written on paper’. These rules are like ‘thumb-rules’ that evolve, scale and follow themselves based on the primordial experiences of the general public.

The following are the few rules that I can highlight and remember as very important ones :

1) In the direction of the train, the first half of the entrance to any compartment is always for “train latchers.” I know it’s an odd term to use, but that’s what you feel like they look when seen from a distance. A few people latched on to the doors, swaying and moving along with the train as it moves around, half of their body outside the train, and somehow balancing themselves with unimaginable talent and risk.

2) The second half of the compartment (which now makes it only a narrow tunnel) is for ‘exit first and entry later’ kind of a general rule. You are given a few hundred milliseconds to exit if you can in any station. After which the door is normally piled over with hundreds of people waiting to ‘barge in through the tunnel’. Another “platform-travel facility” for those who want to avoid the over-bridge is to jump from one train to another train already standing on the other side, and move across into the platforms!

3) People can, and should be accommodated in every nook and corner of the train, windows and the roof-top included. Specifically speaking, people can also hang out on the windows or on the roof tops if their wish be to have adventure. We don’t believe in taking holidays, hanging a back-pack and preparing for a hitch-hiking ride to some gullible place in the woods like the London people.

These daily train adventure rides like the “window-crawling” are much fancier than those ill-making missions.

4) Everybody who enters the train must keep the belongings over their head at all times to ensure it does not occupy any standing space. With a population of a multi-million, thronging in at the train doors and into the compartments, a little occupied space by unwanted luggage means a loss of standing space for 5-6 passengers. This is not at all fruitful and you are punished for trying any such atrocities. If you want to carry luggage, either learn to juggle it on your head for a major part of your journey, or just forget the luggage - others can take good care of it for all of its life, if any left.

5) Always know which side of the doors your station will arrive at. If you don’t, then forget travelling or just beg God that it is the one at which you are standing where the station arrives. However, veteran travellers of Mumbai can be allowed to alight on the rail-tracks on the opposite side anyways.

6) In a three-seat arrangement, at least or not less than 4 people need to be accommodated. The size and the shapes of the participants don’t matter; even 4 WWF players need to follow this rule. It’s always an advantage, but if you are “smart” enough to not want such an advantage, travel in the First class and end up getting your back screwed up.

7) At any time in your travel between stations, if you feel unbearably itchy and scratchy while standing in an odd crouched position; if your hands are lost and in an unreachable part of the world, you can always take help of the person nearby you. They can help you anytime, this exactly being the reasons of us being taught a national language at schools in Mumbai.

8) If a lady/girl has even by mistake tried to venture in the men compartment, scare her off immediately, especially in the rush hours. They cause havoc and occupy too many seats, apparently causing discomfort to many travellers. However, if the lady/girl has a boy friend, the fiendish part of the journey needs to begin. “Abey girl friend ko taxi main ghumaao yaa fir dusri train main le jaao” is the thought of most wise-men of Mumbai.

9) You need to plan lots of things before travel, right from tickets, compartments, directions, types of train to unplanned things like the nature’s call. Most of the stations here don’t have any working models of toilets. So better be vary and prepared for sudden discomforting aversions; you can’t fight with them and the travel adventure at the same time.

10) The ladies compartments will be the most scuffling and noisy at all times. Do not put boards of ‘Noise pollution’ in ladies compartment; this act will be too detestable. You are not going to avoid this pollution using ear-plugs too, so don’t try any fancy stuff.

11) Even if you are in the most hurried time of your journey, be very cautious while crossing the platform where the ladies compartment is slated to arrive. If you happen to touch even a hair of any waiting girl/lady accidentally, on a given bad day the results can be devastatingly disastrous. You might not be able to recognize yourself by the time you reach home and look into the mirror.

12) Never ever enter the ladies compartment even by mistake. If you did, I am sure you would anyways not travel in Mumbai local for at least a month. You know it takes so much time for such a kind of fear, or the impression of such an unfortunate incident (of you being thrashed to pulp) to finally evaporate from the memories.

13) If you feel stomach pain or gastric when you are at the platform, have a cup of the Rupee four, Masala Soda or Nimbu Paani tonic. Not only will your gastric pain disappear but also any unwanted reserves of stomach viruses will be thrown out in the next day morning business. Most interestingly, anything sold in any part of the world is available in the Mumbai stations counters at half the price, unlike in the London stops, where it is the vice versa!

14) Luggage compartments in the train are not for luggages. They are just a special name given to some “foul smelling old compartments” which however should be used by the regular travellers anyways. All you need to do is get used to some really pongee smell that makes your nose start running in depression!

15) You need lots of practise and great skills to be able to travel seated in a Mumbai train, in those places from which the train begin its journey. If you want to get out of the train fast, or enter a train easily, make sure that you are well behind the guy who has the uncanny combination of wit, experience, muscle-power and speed. You need lots of virtues to be privileged to travel in a Mumbai train. The travel using such esteemed methods needs preparation, from being ready to gallop onto the train at the correct time, to shout at the top of your voice to unsettle an obstructer, and to ward-off other assailants in the bid to get into the train first.

16) Never try to use English in your language of communication in the travel. You will end up being caught up in a fight or being fooled entirely or even worse harassed by the veteran travellers of the train. The travellers here are strict in believing that you need to leave your education and your communication ways back at your office or home. While in Mumbai trains, use only the Mumbai language, ‘samjha kya re ghochu’?

17) If you are a regular train traveller and have to travel in office hours, get used to the idea of ‘music online’ into your ears. Though this music is neither classical, hip-hop, jazz, rock nor unfortunately anything like devotional. The music is completely out of the world. The Mumbai locals are filled with great and most talented ‘Bhajan Band of Boys (men)’!

The London tube travels don’t have much of rules to be followed; rules are normally made by wiser lot, and there is not much of such kind of genre here. Always remember to mark out your journey in the http://www.tfl.gov.uk/ website and carry the tube map whenever you are travelling. If you don’t follow these rules, you may end up travelling to and fro in 2-3 tube lines, to reach a destination which was just few blocks of walking distance away!

There is an obvious and in some way subtle decision to make while travelling in the tube trains. The biggest issue remains is of determining the direction in which you intend to travel. After groping through the tiny tube map and finding out your destination, you need to remember whether you are bound towards East/West or North/South from your present destination. This may be an easy part initially, but the regular travellers get so much bogged down by the re-occurrence of the query, that they forget their sense of direction completely.

Always keep your Oyster cards safe in your pocket, pickpockets here are dumb enough to choose the later between your costly Rolex watch and the Oyster card.

Due to the strategic seating arrangements, you end up seated such that you are facing some other cartoon on the other side of your compartment. You need to therefore learn the acts of immediately :
Holding laughter on horrendous dressing disasters ranging from funny hairdos, disastrous tattoos and the clip hangers showered all over the faces.
1) Hold your smile to indolent dragsters that have no dumb idea of what they plan to do the next moment.

2) Hold your surprised disgust on the dishevelled makeup of a girl who is too busy talking to her two boyfriends (one black and one white) or sending text to them on the phone, one after another.

3) Being aloof of, well, I don’t need to mention these fourth categories of people, all of us know that they are embarrassing and shameless in their revealing manners of clothing above anything else.

4) If you happen to offer the seat to somebody aged, make sure you don’t determine the age of people based on the colour of their hair. Firstly because Indians take all people with white hairs as elderly men/women, secondly 40% of the London travellers have their hairs dyed to give natural colours. If you do so, I imagine you would pass 95% of your tube travels standing.

5) Have a strong sense of smell in the London tubes, with personal experience I can say that most of the travellers always have much more than a drink or two before they start their journey. Another tip is that if some traveller is very friendly and talkative, 99% of the time he/she is drunk beyond senses.

6) You need to know the EAST and WEST and the NORTH and the SOUTH while travelling the London trains. Sometimes you start doubting what you have learned right from your childhood by the way the trains are moving but apparently the tube maps are your direction holders not the direction in which the trains are moving.

7) While moving on the escalators always keep right and always hold yourself tight. Eventually if you don’t, you will surely end up in a mess where creeps shout at you in indolent but rapid foreign pieces of mystic fables.

8) No luggage columns over the head on the London trains. If you have luggage more than what you can handle, hire a car or taxi; even if it means you go broke by the charges of a taxi travel. That’s what credit cards and credit crunches are made for in London!

The Ticketing Systems:

Just from the recent past, Mumbai train passes can be bought online, this must have surely reduced the hush-hush for season pass holders who can afford to go on the internet. However, the queue for the on-the-spot day travel tickets is still tormenting. Coupons are seldom used because generously most of the CVM (Coupon Validating Machines) are duly out of order. The people with ‘whiter and shinier wisdom tooth’ normally avoid taking tickets altogether. Especially in the rush hours, we can be always sure that no ticket checker can be on the prowl for his own mercy’s sake. Thus free journey are always for the taking in the Mumbai trains.

However in the London tube travels, this is one difficulty. The entry and the exit are barred by those ticket checking machines that automatically validate the tickets of monthly cards (called as Oyster cards). Thus if in India you waste time in buying tickets, in London you waste time ‘swiping in and out’ of stations while you have the tickets! On some ‘officially rare’ occasions, which by the way is factually recurring, the ticket validating systems fail to work across all stations, and the testimonials to such a disaster is the daily newspaper (which BTW is freely distributed in London trains and buses) that carry headlines similar to ‘London tube occurs 4.5 million pounds of loss in a single day due to the failure of the central ticket validating systems’. There you see, developed countries are so systematic, they have even their losses are counted and encountered by their automatic machines!
Surprisingly many Mumbai travellers, particularly some ‘Einstein-like fundamentally genius guys’; redefine travelling costs in their own unique balance sheet calculations. Let’s say a quarterly pass costs you 400 bucks from station A to station B, they would normally prefer travelling ticket-less for those 3 months. If they are caught in the most unlikely incident of that happening, they should normally be paying 250 Rs fine according to standard railway fine charts. But these travellers pay everything that they have in their pocket, which normally turns out to be a figure close to a whopping 40-50 Rs, and get out of sight. Apparently this money goes directly into the ticket checkers pocket, and the transaction of course remains off the records. So instead of paying the 400 bucks of travel passes, the investment only goes to 50-100 bucks! What a saving and you also don’t have to take care of your passes from pick-pocketers too!

And now consider the complex scenario that you are again caught ahead in your ticketless travel adventure, on the same day, same place, you can give the name of the previous ticket checker whom you had just please minutes before. The new one would immediately let you proceed without obstruction. One of my friends was once caught by a Mr. Tambe, at Borivli station. While in fix, and not wanting to part the 40-50 bucks, he tried to be over-smart and lied that he was just caught by another officer before and gave the name of some lame officer, a Mr. Gavkar, who had caught him travelling ticketless several days back. To this Tambe’s response was, “Khota boltos, Gavkar saaheb Kurla madhe laagle aahet aata! Lai Shaanpanaa dakhavlis tu, Aata tar pavti hun pan jast paishe kaadh; naahi tar ghalvun deil aandhar kothadit.” (English translation : “You liar! Mr. Gavkar is now patrolling in Kurla station. Trying to act oversmart, eh, now you will have to pay more than even the slated fine rate, or else you will end up in the dungeons”). Well when bad luck beholds you, there is no stopping.

Finally the most challenging part is to actually get those day tickets if you are not a regular traveller. After standing in the counters for more than an eternity, when your turn finally arrives to take the ticket, it’s mostly lunch time, or the ticket dispensing crookster gets a call and he closes the counters for silly reasons. There are no sign posts or due time for the ticket windows. Sometimes you are reeling behind at the 47th position in the lines, but if you are quick eyed and agile, you can end up suddenly being the first few in the very next counter which has just opened and missed the attention of other waiting queue members. That’s how you feel in the Mumbai travel - talent, timing, preparation and finally luck needed in each journey day.

In the London tubes, if you are trying to buy tickets from the queues, the situation is very complicated. With a glass obstruction of thickness comparable to the double-glazed windows of my apartment, our sound is barely heard by the sophisticatedly equipped moron on the other side. However the responses from him are heightened by the microphone which is made available to each personnel. All in all, after waiting in queue for a long time, you finally end up using sign languages to explain him the nature of ticket you need!

Station Announcements :

“Platform No. 2 pe aane valli local aaj radd kar di gayi hai. Yaatriyo ko hone valli asuvidha ke liye hame khed hai” This dialog is almost a regular appetite to a Mumbaikars ears, of course, these platform numbers change from time to time. As soon as such announcements are made, we encounter a barge of activities similar to what an outside would assimilate as a ‘state of co-ordinated panic’. People with their office bags handled in the most master-crafted ease, start running from one station to another based on their priorities and the amount of clearance available in the platforms.

Recession or no recession, summer/winter or Rain days, whatever be the season, or what the hell maybe the reason, the announcers of the Mumbai stations are dangerously mal-nutritioned, or what can be imagined as making announcements as if with a gun placed on the forehead. No human ear can decipher the code or even match the frequency, resilience, power, patience and the vocabulary of those announcements. But if you travel for 15 days in the Mumbai trains, your ears are trained to naturally firewall any queries to the brain that try to analyze/understand these announcements. We therefore rely on crowd movements and the seventh sense, if I am allowed to say. If people are running from one platform to another, you know that the normal scheduled local was cancelled as always.

In London trains however, these announcements are made with carefully picked voice programs, and repeated at regular just intervals. ‘Please mind the gap between the train and the platform edge’, these kinds of announcements are necessary for some of those hilariously psychic EU travellers. And I can’t blame that we don’t have such wonderful announcements made in our arena. Naah! They wouldn’t make any sense, when we actually don’t have enough gaps left in the platform and the train compartments anyways!

Public Display Of Affection:

London trains are used by a worldly multi-ethnic society, and truly speaking the most geeky and most exorbitantly mixed breed of ‘nuts’ from all across the globe (this includes me of course). Some of these are so busy or so intimidately alone, that they accomplish the triumph over their loneliness by making public display of affection to their counterpart. These can range from different situations, positions and sometimes, unfortunately with different disgusting voices as well. The sad part is, you feel completely uncomfortable if you are caught on the very next seat!

A funny situation occurs when that couple takes the seat at the ends of the compartment near to the door, where the seats end to an arrangement of ‘rods and glass’. Once I was travelling in one of these tubes, and a Mr A and Mrs B were engrossed in an intimate kiss. Of course, if you had turned your gaze accidentally to such scenes, the mind has by now learned a new reflex action to turn your gaze to some other direction instantly. But incidentally something unfortunate happened and all the meagre 15-20 people, sorry geeks, in the compartment turned their gaze to the couple.

Apparently the girl was evoked by some demons within her, and she was holding the guys head in her gracious stance, but it must have slipped through when their individual systems were in the peak of their processor CPU % usage and BANG! The guy hit hard on the side-rod and the intermingled-processes turned instantly to ghost processes (sorry I am a certified UNIX Admin, so can’t help with my language)! I assume the next step in such situations is not easy to act on, but hey this is London! Nothing could stop Mr A and Mrs B that moment, maybe not even their individual wife and husband waiting back home. I remember one of the London trip books that I had read once mentioned, ‘Surprise is always an element on our London tours.’ I wondered, did it actually mean about anything like one of these tube-shows?

Well in terms of Mumbai trains, this is slightly like chalk and cheese. Though the elements of romance are all close at hand! The difference is that these feelings are shared only on mobile phones. Firstly because fortunately, most of us are still forced to respect to our heritage social manners, secondly the ladies compartments are separate as I mentioned before already. Airtel, BSNL, Hutch and of course not to forget Reliance Mobile; all have bonded many love-birds together with their free and minimal charges package schemes which are only on papers. Whether they are travelling in the same train but in separate compartments, or one of them is back home or in office calling from their landlines; the show is always ON. Though there are some ‘wireless communication’ and ‘GSM and CDMA signal’ difficulties that they have to overcome. Let me also make one thing clear to all of you, do not be under the wrong impression that 80% of Mumbai crowd does not understand what GSM and CDMA stand for.
GSM - H = Ghar Sa Maahol, Hamesha
CDMA = Chalte ya Daudte Milo Apnose
This is the real essence of mobile technology in India. God! I learned all rubbish in my Engineering!

Sometimes due to these discontinuities and voice raising responses, funny situations arise. One day I was travelling in a ‘jam-packed’ Borivli-Churchgate fast train, standing near the door at the compartment edge. I observed that a pre-occupied Marathi guy, young and I assume “newly engaged, hyperactive scarce piece of living structure”, was sitting next to a bulky, filthy dressed, crooked monstrous guy with a mean dumb expression on his face. The Marathi guy was busy in his phone call with his love, and I am sure intimate talks were going on with her.

I can confirm this from such a long distance not because I could hear anything. No, not possible! These discussions happen with a peculiar silence and co-ordinated moments of the lips, astoundingly lower pitch voice with "phase/amplitude/frequency modulation and encoding" in such a way that it only reaches the recipient on the other side. I actually conspired it to be so guessing by the reactions of the Marathi guy; the twist that goes on the smile and the abrupt eyes rising on occasions as if enjoying the joy of the revelation of a previous adventurous meeting. What confirmed my doubts completely was the occasional disgusting frown of the tough guy besides who apparently was over-hearing parts of the conversation.

Suddenly in the wake of realization, the Marathi guy remembered that the mobile’s signal strength is going to be weak between Goregaon and Jogeshwari while he needs to get down at Andheri himself. So it was time to end the call and say ‘1 4 3’ before the signal shrinks to zero. In the course of panic, he spoke the words in a rapid and high pitch voice but unfortunately also turned his gaze to his neighbour, at the same time, maybe due to a habit, I assume. Amidst the total silence that broke, a few people around started looking at this ‘gods own special piece’ as he made his second hurried error and blurted to the monstrous guy, “Sorry I didn’t tell anything to you, it was my Girl Friend”.

These things are so common I suppose to regular travellers, that it was only me who burst laughing in the whole compartment. Finally it was my turn to be embarrassed as I turned over to the other side and interjected to myself, “Wasn’t that supposed to be funny?” Well, all in a days travel!

Fighting over the Phone:

The tube travel in most of the central London are flagged off by signal cut-offs in the underground areas where signal cannot reach. So any conversations of fighting are normally done on ‘TEXT’ (this is the term used in UK for SMS, which is popular in India). A grim observation I have made here is that while the Indian travellers are very good in writing SMS in their own language (like an example is Hindi written in English syllables), but the UK travellers tend to use the English language for anything from harsh words, or the 4 letter abusive words or be anything else.

‘Break-up fights’ in London trips are very small and precise. The two parties would have anyways met in one of the standard listed ‘Break-up friendly coffee houses of UK’ (anybody wants to know I have a list of it myself) which is conveniently nearby to their offices. All that the TEXT would contain will be contents similar to ‘I am glad we have agreed to seek parting, hope you have good times ahead. It was great to know you and we’ll always be friends.’ The ‘we’ll always be friends’ part is optional as you know that needs decent background of knowing each other for a long time, which not everybody in London tend to do in a relation!

Fighting over the phone in Mumbai is noisy, tragic, occasionally coupled with silent periods and doubled with immediate curses and despicable promises to get even in the most meagre way to the opponent on the other side of the line. No promises of physical assaults, however, happen on phone. It’s an understanding in Mumbai which we grow up with, “If you challenge to fight physically, either do it in person, or we know you are just bluffing.” So such a promise is made in a more political manner. A normal way of making such statements would be, “Kahi aaju-baaju dikhna mat mere, bolke rakhta hun pehle se.” (though the actual meaning of it would be like ‘mere baap main nahi lunga pangaa/nahi karungaa galti, mere piche mat padiyo ab’). The Mumbai language has many 2, 3, 4 and 5 letter words of abuse in different languages, with different tones, dialects, voices and sometimes great innovations that add really a lot of spice to the ‘fight on the phone’.

Real fights for Unreal Reasons:

While London tubes fall back in these performances, Mumbai trains have a rich heritage and loads of reasons behind them anyways for the real fights.

London fights are normally done in the form of serious storm of taunts and sudden burst of ethical policies readout from the books of the educated counterparts. The variety of these can vary based on the vocabulary and the patience of the speaker and the recipient. In some observations the time for such relentless speeches are directly proportional to the age of the speaker. But in all cases, the result is only a growing amount of sleep, fatigue, agony in your already drained out body. I feel such mouth-bursts are even more dangerous than the Mumbai fights.

However packed they maybe, no Mumbai train gives service throughout a day without having seen at least a dozen fights in some of its compartments through the length of the day. In some occasions, individual fights are going on in more than one compartment all in the same time and in the same space of journey. Those times are rightfully termed as the ‘rush hours’ of a Mumbaikars life-time. Fights can be for multitude of reasons ranging from ‘seemingly broke a train rule’ or ‘imaginatively heard murmuring provocative language’ or ‘not being allowed to aboard train and so causing push-in’. These are normally just the sparkles and means to spit out the frustrations lingering on the harassed, which is transferred to the innocent, unknown and unlucky assailant. The best part here is that we follow some rules in such fight. Apparently whatever the reason, if a fight has eventually broken between 2 people in a train, everybody else has the right to poke in and hit any of the two fighters irrespective of the understanding or belief on who was at fault. I have myself lost count of my participations in the number of such occasions. Of course I am normally very neutral in my views, so my actions are always repeated on both the parties equally. And when you take part in such activities, you are given the honour to tell a tale of the account to your friends later, of course sheepishly adding a line in the end that says ‘Fir maine bhi haath saaf kar hi liya’.

Platform Posters, Escalators and Advertisements:

Advertisements in the London tubes are rather sophisticated, though scarce numbers of these are actually used in the central London tubes. These actually include electronically moving Graphic Images in a rolling format, sequenced one after another. They are enclosed in a glass-protected frame, with the edges flagged with dark black strips all along. I once encountered with a very funny transition of two advertisements which put my wits into question. Recently while travelling through the ‘Westminister’ tube station, I saw a rolling advertisement that alternatively displayed advertisements on 'Quantum of Solace', the 007 movie; and advertisement for avoiding AIDS and spreading awareness. Well contrasting posters they were must say, as most of you would agree, both educate on completely different lines you see!

The London escalators are so long, that they are the best place for advertisements. The stairs revolve up and down slowly, and all those tagged along on them literally try to ignore their own restlessness by staring on the advertisements. The best advertisement was one I had seen in Victoria station, which had a motion picture kind of advertisement, where all the pictures from the top to the bottom of the escalators when watched together, would make you understand what the advertisement wanted to sell on!

The Mumbai platforms however boast a host of advertisements and information-rich posters. “Walk-through all the gestures describing human sentinels in a single poster of some Ekta Kapoor production soap-serials” or “the latest Z-grade movie running in an unknown corner of a busy city”. And to add the spice to the story, some message boards are also flagged with small leaflets of “Lost n Found candidates whose photos are so faded they resemble close to every soul you see around” or “Earn extra income from home” hanging indented on the advertisement boards.

I remember a time when I was travelling from the Jogeshwari station to some destination, and found a queer advertisement of a soap-serial, with a scene where the person with the main role is being attacked by an assailant by an unknown instrument. Let me correct you before you start wondering what is unknown. The advertisement was torn and so the suspense was ON. All the other posters in the station were even more damaged if not less than that. The build-up of the suspense was only broken when I finally ventured to the Mumbai streets and found the same poster, this time thankfully complete, on one of the side-roads!

Train Banners and Displays:

From recent periods, the Mumbai trains now have announcements made inside the compartments itself for the stations. Of course they are now another source of torture to the swarm of stuffed living beings in the compartments. But if you ever get a chance to see the Banners and Displays of Mumbai trains, you will be astounded by the vastness of the talent that we entertain. Right from the ones with standard defamed products of Mumbai, to the great service providers in Medical histories, all have their say in each and every Mumbai train.

The ‘Shah Piles advertisement’, the ‘After tenth direct degree admission to S.M.Lal private college’, ‘Babba Bengaali ka Chamatkar’ and so many posters of varied dimensions, colour language and for various amounts of target audience are available in display. The star attraction ones are those which mention only half-spilled information. Like the ones which say, ‘Call on :
9812345678’ And amongst all these star-studded advertisements, with great amount of difficulty and struggling to keep its identity known, come out in display the standard government warnings on, “not smoking cigarettes, and not carrying explosive materials, and no ticketless travelling, and so on”. Finally if all of this does not meet the daily talent dose of a few, we have a few scribblers and on-the-spot poster makers who use their pens, brushes and pencils to make art and announcements as important as ‘Lily hates Raja’ and ‘I love Rambha – signed Satish (with some apparent spelling mistakes all over)’.

The London tubes, however, have systematic control on the train banners and displays. All over the train you find the tube map and the train specific journey stops that it is going to encounter. Nobody can ever complete a journey without having pondered on these for at least sometime in a day. There are a few places however, where they do allow the advertisements, but most of them are boring and too difficult to understand. As you already know the sense of humour of these people is also too hard to get!

Display Screens – Tidiness and getting directions:

London tubes wins hands-out in the facilities availed on display screens. Firstly because they display much more than the present train arriving and estimated arrival time, secondly they also do mention if they are not in service! The tidiness of the platforms is also never a question. A few can of beers can surely be found either rolling on playfully on the platform, or finally settling into the train tracks.


You can find BSE written in the LED displays, of the Mumbai platforms for a 3:58 local, apparently due to reverse engineering techniques. In fact some of the LEDS normally don’t work. It’s a bit of abnormal if all are working properly. I have seen people narrowing their vision and adjusting their lenses to assure they are seeing the real world correctly, if they find all the LEDS working fine. A fast train will arrive when the display is still showing a slow trains scheduled to arrive which had already arrived earlier. Such disasters are so common in Mumbai trains.

But who will polish your shoes in the time of crisis in the London tubes? Who will provide you grubs of food sachets or fruits to eat if you are hungry suddenly? Who will provide you with magazines and ballpoint pens at silly cheap prices in your train journey?

London tubes have been so magnificently arranged that you can reach to any place based on your direction sense, tube map and the signs that each platform has at the most appropriate places. While in Mumbai platforms, we have so many people to ask to, and so many ways to get to, that we don’t feel bothered about those directions. However, it is always the risk of a prank from somebody to a newcomer or a new traveller.

Missing Elements:

The logic of reverse-business-hour traffic is all in display in the Mumbai local life. With most of the offices flagged in Central Mumbai or the southern Mumbai, the travel from all other zones to these areas is completely frenzied and unencumbered for most of the journey time.

If you want to see hawkers who sell things for cheap, it’s the Mumbai trains where you would find them. Small children, who don’t like begging, try to sell stuff for cheap to those who are ready to buy. Newspapers, water bottles, fruits, small toffees and hordes of books are all sold out in Mumbai locals. However they never do their business in the rush-hours, that’s when the logic of reverse-business-hour flow comes handy to them!

Another of the missing elements in the London tubes; are the beggars and the singers, those who may torment you in some of your journey times with their silly pranks.

While this is how it stands for the Mumbai locals, the London tubes have their own fascinating world of singers who like to make their living and drinking based on music they have learned. While the music they sing is too good to hear, who has the time to ponder on it?

The final word:

We might find the differences in the two trains appalling, but the most important thing that makes both of them unique and important is that they are the lifelines of the two cities. Nobody can imagine work and a normal life without these. They are the root of the city life and the real consequent of many normal livelihoods. And to add to it, the fact that no terror threats can stop the journey on these life-lines, just reasserts the known fact that truth always triumphs over the false.

- Ideas and fantasies are just false experiences of a world we desire!

- Chirag Khara