The story of the guy who travelled from Matunga to Sion

The train stopped at Matunga. A few people squeezed in to measly inches of space available in that compartment. As the train started to move out of the platform, our protagonist manages to get on board. Now he announced, albeit in a low tone, that he wanted to de-board at Sion which is the next station. A few people smirked, a bunch more laughed and the majority advised him to give up the idea. You would presume that this should have been just a common endeavour. What’s the big deal about it? You see, the platform for Sion comes on the other side of the train and he has about 3 minutes before he has to cross 10 feet of space that is filled to the nanometer with humans who are literally cramped for breath.

I was amused and quite eager to watch how he was going to make it. I wouldn't have dreamt of attempting such a task during peak hours in Mumbai trains. In my opinion his best chance was to throw himself like rockstars (or like a dead body), and expect people to carry him over to the other side. But you can’t expect people, who are already squeezed to the level where they realize their dreams of flat bellies, to be that generous. I would have recommended him to run from Matunga to Sion for he would have had a better chance of reaching his destination in shape.

It’s definitely interesting, if not exciting, to travel in Mumbai trains. People get in and get out of the train as the water gushes into a sinking boat. The train would be packed to the hilt, but more people somehow find ways to get on board. I’m amazed what humans can achieve. Junctions like Dadar and Kurla are battlegrounds. If you give some swords to the passengers, you can film some Lord of The Rings styled grand war scenes between the ones trying to get down and the ones trying to get in. You will also get some overdose of local language expletives.  It’s a journey that you should attempt at least once in your lifetime during peak hours in Mumbai.

Note: This is not CGI generated!

Back to our protagonist. He started maneuvering himself in the smallest of the gaps possible. He writhed, twisted, yelled and begged to give space. It was quite torturous, yet ironically funny to watch. After 2 minutes of extra-ordinary efforts he had moved about 2 feet. He hadn’t given up. The train showed signs of slowing down indicating that it is coming to a halt. Something snapped in him and he started with a full rage of pushing people around. He had gained more distance and was halfway through. 

He then realized that his bag wasn’t in his hand. 

He turned back and his eyes tried to retrace his path. He should have felt like he was Abhimanyu in Chakravyuka. The path had closed. He should have been impressed with himself for making such a progress. I surely was. A kind soul found the bag and passed it over the heads. He grabbed it and made his final burst like in a rugby match. The train had halted by now and he was still inside. As the train started to move again, he managed to jump out. 

Had it been a rugby match, I would have cheered. But I started preparing for my jump at Kurla. I wish I had a sword.