A female voice announced something in Marathi and then in Hindi and I did not pay attention. Then it stated "The train to Mumbai Chatrapati Shivaji Terminal is arriving on Platform no.2". The train must be coming I should get in, it's already late. I could feel the pattern of vibration on the platform changing. I mean, it was vibrating already because of the flood of people tramping it on that rainy morning. But this one is uniform and more violent. I could feel it and I could hear the horn, but it was not visible. All I could see was almost 1000 people anxiously waiting at the verge of the platform for the train to stop. I have seen more crowd than this in T Nagar station in Madras during the time of Diwali. But here it is a normal phenomenon at almost all the stations during rain as the trains tend to be cancelled. Once the train stopped, there was a kind of osmosis. Those who exit push out whatever in the way, so do those who enter the train. The force was so violent that I felt like pushed hard by a tsunami, then immediately being sucked into a black hole. I had no control of my movement. Though I didn't wish to I was on board, I was taken in. unfortunately, like the extra food that is vomitted by the children, I was squeezed out of the train. By that time it was already moving. I was on the border of life and death.I mean I was hanging at exit. There were three shoes on my feet. Inside each of the three shoes was a foot, each belonging to three different people. Eventually,The stereotypical Indian mind of mine felt happy that I'm not the only one suffereing. Though it was painful, it gave me confidence that it would grip me in case my hands slip. There was a pole in the middle of the exit. I was holding that and was hanging outside with may bag in the back and a very thick Jerkin on the other hand. It started to rain heavily and the pole was also wet and it was too hard to hold that. Right half of me was totally wet and the other half was clean and dry. The right ear was filled with almost one glass of water. The train sounded a horn; All I could hear was honkgglurg...glurg....and a long silence at the end of it eventhough they did not stop sounding the horn. "Damn!", I said to myself , "mic testing 1,2,3...."; failure. I was deaf temporarily. The train stopped at the first station. It is a bigger station and more people were waiting to board. The platform was on the other side. So it was not necessary to get down and give way for others. This time there was not even space to place to stand on others feet. So they started to push each other to find some space. As a result, I was pushed further. One guy said "Move towards the free space". Of course there was lots of free space behind me-the space that would lead to eternity. I was not ready not only because I'm too young to die, but also I will lose my right - the right to be buried in my family graveyard, because it is full with grandpas and great grandpas occupying every inch of it. They themselves have decided not to bury anyone after the early 90's. I have to fight and dig some of them out if I have to find a place there. For that atleast I had to deny using that free space. However that guy was keen in pushing me into the free space and the iron rod was slippery and I could not clasp it anymore. But that same guy helped me not by holding me, but by pushing me further. I mean, my palm were lying between that guy and the iron rod after I stopped clasping it. So he pushed himeslf on the iron rod and my palm was caught between the rod and this guy. When the train reached third station, the platform was on my side. So I had to get down. Those who wanted to get down were shouting at me, "Get down". No way, the platform was still 10 yards away and the train was moving 50kmph speed. I was waiting for the train to stop. But both the 'insiders' as well as the 'outsiders' were impatient that I was blocking their way out and in respectively. They were successful in throwing me out. I landed in an awkward position. Thank God! I did not bite the dust, otherwise I would have been used as a step to get in and get out. But I crashed on a guy who scolded me in Marathi. I did not like to try translating it as I knew that that would blacken my dignity. Instead, I laughed and said to myself that "Why's this guy wasting his energy saying something that I do not understand?" I know that saying that loud will spark violence that outsiders are making fun of the language. Our people are famous for generalizing irrelevant or personal things very well. One guy filed a case in Madras High court that Kannada should not be given the classical language status, keeping the cauvery issue in the mind. So that idiot has made a fight over the common resources into a violent ethnic and linguistic clash. After all these thoughts I started to wait for the next train.
