Mumbai Local

Today after long time went for movie with two more idiots, 3 idiots. What a postural journey to reach the theater, honored by Mumbai local trains. Mumbai, what I like about this city is its pace, understanding, and functionality. I don't know about political definition of Mumbaikars, but what I felt in this span of few months is its very helpful and functional behaviour. Ask for help they will surely revert, many times coming out of their way to help. Nothing gets wasted here, space, advice, time, experience, anything.

I hardly traveled in the city but whenever did through local trains it was a fun ride. Sometime standing in such a funny postures that it can easily relate to any yoga assan or bharatnattyam dance posture, some times even the composition of patterns of mob around you seems very funny and exotic! I really can make out the difference between variety of cottons now with a rub in my face, can differentiate the smell between Ariel washed and Surf Excel ki dhulai, believe me such a close encounter even with women can also be suffocating! You can smell any Parachute, Bajaj Almond, Bhrinraj, Vatika or Lifebuoy, Lux, Cinthol, any damn FMCG, thankfully except the toothpastes! My friends said I m lucky to not traveled in summer, its breath choking sometime.

Other than that is those interesting and masala stories or episodes you heard while on move. Like, office politics, 30's filthy stories, whispering "me too" stories, the brief stories (vodafone ka chota recharge wali), ya.. hmmm... I know stories (rest is not allowed by the speaker), or just hmm.. stories (the rest is over ruled here, strictly but willingly, by both parties), then I wish stories (smiling with earphones on), Ekta's tortured 40's age group, occupied with either calculators or policies (neither willing to go home nor office), then the blank retirement plan policies stories about to or late 50's.

But today's story was away from it. It has a father and his young son (about 10 years), standing at door of train, grabbing a pole between door, father trying to cover him from all possible sides and watching him with a wet bird eye view. Trying to show him city through the door, explaining nature, people, city, government, and society with his own tone and values. The father said its a sin to pluck a leaf, if it wont be green then no more water will go inside land. I wish he keep the words with him. I was happy to heard those, wish the rest have heard too. I was smiling with him, he said he has two kids, this is elder, very innocent and soft but younger is exactly opposite, he said with a floating eyes the younger is such a crook that can sell this whole compartment before we could realize. Then he talked about his visit to his relatives, who had a fight with their neighbour over an affair between young ones. Respecting the presence of his son he doesn't spoke much with his words but expressive enough through his eyes. He said many things few with frustrations and few with realizations, I choose to keep the rest with me and his young son.

One of those special friend. I cant even said bye to them, at Kurla station they got thrown away with mob and I was pushed inside.

Mumbai meri jaan!