That Metro Story (Part One: "Oye!")

 Running down the stairs – trying not to jump two at a time, she almost cursed under her breath. She was running late by half an hour. 

“I’ll be here before 6pm Ma,” she’d said that morning while leaving for college. 

“Ji, aajana, warna tumhe saree pehenke Metro se aana padega!” (transl.: ‘you’d better, else you’ll have to ride the Metro wearing a saree’ in Hindi), her mother had told her and she’d been horrified. The Delhi Metro in the evening was not the best mode of transport to attend a family friend’s wedding reception. 

At the queue, she checked her wrist-watch again – 6:35pm. The previous metro had been headed to Central Secretariat; and so was the next one. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ she thought, ‘I’ll just change in between.’ She breezed through the security check and entry gates and took the flight of stairs down to the platform. She made it just in time before the doors closed and she let out a gratified sigh. The pianist began playing his tune and she picked up on the second ring. 

“Ma?” she asked into the phone. 

“Kahan pohonche?” (transl.: ‘where have you reached?’ in Hindi). 

She hesitated for a beat, “Just got into a metro now.” 

“Then it’s okay.” 

“Eh? Kyun? Kya hua?” (transl.: ‘Why? What happened?’ in Hindi), “Cancelled the plan?” she frowned. 

“What? No!” her mother exclaimed. “We’re also late.” 

“Oh, good! See you in another hour then Ma!” she cut the call and put the phone in her cardigan’s pocket. ‘Next station is Green Park,’ the familiar announcement came. She looked around the coach she’d just entered. There was hardly any space to stand. Curving her mouth, she decided to get down at the next station and hoped that she had a better chance with the next metro. 

Seven minutes later, she was leaning comfortably on a pole, vibing to her favourite metro playlist, on a train headed to Samaypur Badli. 

Suddenly, she felt being pushed forward, but caught herself. She turned to look at the source and instantly regretted it. A group of young men were high-fiving each other standing right behind her. She looked down at her phone and pursed her lips, but did not move. After all, she was here first and they had enough and more space in the entire coach if they wanted it. She felt being pushed again and this time she turned around and looked straight at one of the ‘men’. They stopped talking immediately, but avoided eye contact with her while exchanging glances with each other. She shook her head, she didn’t need this. She picked up her book bag and walked slowly to the nearest doors on her left. There was enough room for her to stand against a glass slab – instead of people. She didn’t even have time to put down her bag again, before the boys changed their place and came near the same doors – it seemed like they wanted to get down at the next station. 

“Agla station kaunsa hai?” (transl.: ‘which is the next station?’) One of them asked her. Without glancing back at him, she pointed to a panel above her head with a blinking red light on ‘Jor Bagh’. “Oh, yeah! Thanks!” 

She looked out the doors without replying and started to think about changing her costume for the evening when she caught the reflection of one of the boys behind her. He was in a navy blue hoodie and was now putting on a white cap. The pit of her stomach churned suddenly and she felt as if something bad was just about to happen. Swallowing hard, she watched as all of the boys slowly put on each of their caps. They now looked like they were part of a sport’s team aside from the fact that they had neither equipment nor bags. She would’ve let this go as her usual over-thinking, but the last time she checked, Jor Bagh was still an underground station and there was no need for them to be in that attire at seven in the evening. Clutching her book bag, she realized that she’d unwittingly trapped herself with the boys on one side and an approaching platform on the other; there could be a five second stampede created just to push her out of the train along with the boys! Her brain tried not to panic but her body was tingling all over and she could see her ears reddening in her reflection from all that adrenaline. She unplugged her earphones, made no sudden movements but slowly folded her arms across her chest with the elbows ready to bruise their way out of the situation, if it came to it. As the train slowed, ‘Breathe,’ she told herself, ‘you’ll be fine.’ 

“Oye! Tu yahan kya kar rhi hai?” (transl.: ‘Hey! What’re you doing here?’ in Hindi), she felt a tap on her shoulder. Startled, she whipped her head around – to see a stranger with a genuine look of surprise on his face. “Remember me?” he was now asking with a smile. She smiled and decided to play along. 

“Excuse me,” she said to a hooded boy standing the closest to her. When he looked at her, she indicated that she wanted to cross over, but he didn’t budge. The train suddenly lurched forward and the stranger almost fell over the boy, stamping his foot in the process.  

She looked up to find him profusely apologizing, “Oh, I’m sorry to be so clumsy.” The boys were clearly irritated at the ‘unwelcome interruption’. She was still frozen to the spot, undecided about what to do when she saw that the entire scene of foot stomping and apologies had created some space for her to safely crossover to the stranger’s side. 

She took the narrow window of time, quickly stepping away from the doors. She looked over at the apologizing stranger and tugged at his shirt, trying to be firm with her voice. “Benny, leave it na, they get it.” 

He turned ever so slightly towards her and asked, “You think so?” She glared at the boy staring at ‘Benny’ till he turned his attention towards her. 

“Oh, yes. They get it!” she said aloud. The train came to a halt and the doors opened. The boys walked out and she paused till the train left the station before facing ‘Benny’. 

To Be Continued…

Click Here For Part Two