You know that feeling when you’re traveling alone for the first time in the metro, wide eyed 17-year-old, you’ve got your earphones in, on the way back home after a week that felt like it would never end and you’ve still got that childlike innocence which convinces you that everything was going to be fine in the metro, that you might even discover a newfound appreciation for life, or something dramatic like that. This is a big thing after all; in your 17
years of existence, you’ve never travelled completely alone before, what could go possibly wrong?
Now, it might not seem like it but I was very excited. All week I was fantasizing about getting on that 5pm shuttle on Friday, going home and rotting in bed for the weekend. The day before, I texted everyone I knew from NCR, trying to find someone who’s going to be on the same shuttle as me. But maybe I was destined to go on this adventure alone, leave behind those who book cabs to go home like some kind of over sheltered 10-year-olds afraid to step out into the real world, as I received responses on the lines of ‘dude you are way too excited to use the metro’. I should have seen the signs then.
But alas the day came, I reached the glorious Jahangir Puri metro station. Took an embarrassingly long amount of time checking in my luggage at the security check, had to ask the guy at the ticket counter to repeat himself 4 times, but never lost the little skip in my step at the thought of finally, finally feeling like an adult. Everything was going fine and dandy. When I stepped in the metro, it was like a discovered a whole new world. A whole new world that would require me to stand for an hour and a half until I reached my station. But what is adventure without a little struggle? And that’s the exact moment when shit started to hit the fan.
From the corner of my eye, I could see a large group of men rushing down the stairs of the metro station, they must be getting late and need to catch this metro as soon as possible, totally understandable. They start pushing their way into the ladies’ compartment, fighting off the women trying to get off the metro. Surely, they’re just doing that because the entry of the ladies’ compartment is closer and they’re in a hurry to get in. Yeah, of course, that
must be the reason. But then they do the one thing that never occurred to me in my utopian fantasy. They started taking seats. I’m sure my confusion was palpable; my jaw nearly touched the floor in shock and horror.
The myth of adventure revealed itself and I resigned to regretting my decision of saying no to a friend who was going to the same place by cab the entire time.