firstclassmen

[firstclassmen]

Love Kindled

It was a warm April evening and I was returning home after office and meeting an ailing friend residing at Bandra. It must have been a second Saturday as the trains were quite deserted. A handful of people were seated in the antiquated train which I had boarded. I normally tend to avoid the coaches of such antiquated trains as they have poor ventilation. The only thing that brings solace while travelling in these antiquated coaches is that they play Beethoven’s "Für Elise” for a few seconds before the locomotive driver announces “Yaatrigan kripya dhyaan de, ye train Borivali ke Platform no. 1 (formerly platform no. 8) par jaayegi”.

 I must have been a little tired cause after standing for a while on the footboard, I decided to go and find myself a seat. On my left was an elderly gentleman who was watching with a fairly disgruntled look on his face his fellow commuters hooked to their gadgets.

 Sooner than later the elderly gentleman seated on my left alighted at Vile Parle ending his misery of watching fellow inanimate commuters hooked to their respective gadgets. I thought of investigating the elderly gentleman’s misery and started observing my fellow commuters.

 Seated right opposite me was a guy (probably of my age) with a Kindle Paperwhite 6 draped in an elegant leather cover. With a certain amount of awe and admiration at the sight of the Kindle I tried to initiate a conversation.

 “If you do not mind what are the advantages of carrying a Kindle or an e-reader over a paperback?”

 The guy was a little taken aback at the sudden pestering by yours truly.

 “Actually I just started reading recently. To be honest the Kindle has actually drawn me to read more. It is convenient to carry around.”

 I have always wanted to buy one but figured it requires a pretty decent capital expenditure. I informed of my dilemma to the gentleman.

 “Yeah, I did not myself ever imagine of getting myself one. This was gifted to me by my wife on the occasion of my Birthday.”

 “Wow, I would surely love to get married to someone who gifts me a Kindle.”

 The guy smiled back at my awkward remark.

 “Who are your favourite authors?”

 “As I said earlier, it is only recently that I started reading. I would read only technical books on Software. However my wife assumed that I am fond of reading and she gifted this. I just buy the popular books on Amazon and ended up reading Amish Tripathi and Chetan Bhagat. However I like reading some Gujarati authors.”

 “Like...?”

 “Hmmm... the humorous writings of Jyotindra Dave, if you could read Gujarati, do read “Rang Tarang”. Then there is this Doctor Sharad Thakar whose ‘Doctorni Diary’ series are quite intriguing. But of contemporary authors I enjoy reading Gunvant Shah the most. He writes for Divya Bhaskar of very simple incidents or interactions. His writings are basically essays or travelogues and he has penned biographies on prominent Gujaratis like Gandhi and Sardar Vallab Bhai Patel.”

 The guy works for a software organisation and then our conversation shifted from Gujarati literature to books on Technology. We discussed books on Steve Jobs, Linus Torvald’s Just for Fun and Jeff Bezos’ The Everything Store.

 Soon the train approached Borivali and we parted exchanging pleasantries and wishes for further enjoyable reading in near future.

[firstclassmen]

Breaking the Gender Stereotype

It was a rare instance of coming across a lady traveling in the first class compartment which is mostly frequented by men since the womenfolk prefer to travel in the compartments allotted to them.

Intrigued, I asked the lady "So are you into breaking Gender stereotypes??"

"Not really" replied the charming lady "Men are more courteous and helpful in providing space to ladies than compared to the womenfolk in the ladies compartment."

The gentlemen standing in front of her then made way for her as she alighted at Vile Parle!!

[firstclassmen]

BORIVALI RESIDENT IN A VIRAR BOUND FAST LOCAL!!

[firstclassmen]

Sharing a read!! #firstclass

[firstclassmen]

Ghalib on Board

It was a hot and humid Monday. At the very sight of the antiquated local train fellow commuters waiting at Borivali, gasped at the prospects of an uncomfortable travel ahead. Traveling in Mumbai Local per se is uncomfortable, however the handful of antiquated train Western Railways operates is (if politely put) particularly excruciating. The coaches can best be described as cages with inadequate ventilation and lighting. Standing space is dearer and the dearth of overhead handles, air and light leads to a pervasive grumbling and squabbles amongst commuters during the journey.

The train was packed. There were a few young guys standing on the footboard discussing their exam results. They sounded particularly grim. However their sorrow lived shortly as a middle-aged Gujarati gentleman joined them. The entry of the middle-aged Gujarati gentleman was actually celebrated by the group of young men. Pleasantries were exchanged. All grief of the group of boys was forgotten.

I was busy warding off fellow commuters in a bid to avoid being trampled by them or used as a substitute for the overhead handle (by the short commuters). The crowd had fairly settled in after we left Goregaon. The distance between Goregaon and Jogeshwari is particularly long and generally uneventful.

But not today!!

“Stay Off!!” shrieked a disconcerted elderly gentleman. The deterrent was directed towards a young man standing behind him busy with his mobile clutched in his two hands.

“I am standing properly.” Came the stern defense.

“This is the third time you shoved me!!”

“It is crowded. You try standing properly!!” came the impolite retort.

“I am standing erect. Keep that phone of yours away.”

“He is playing Candy Crush.”, quipped a by-stander.

Squabbles are common place in the local suburban trains of Bombay and do not draw as much attention. But not today!!

“We are getting crushed and he is busy crushing candies.” Remarked someone.

Soon the young man playing candy crush oblivious to the difficulties of his fellow commuters became the center of everyone’s wrath. The agony of travelling on a hot and humid Monday in a crowded cage was squarely vented upon him.

Everyone including me joined the chorus of narrating their share of troubles on account of the lack of empathy from the smart-phone handling commuters.

The elderly gentleman further elucidated, “Earlier while traveling the bag of fellow commuters used to trouble us…”

“Sir….” The celebrated middle-aged Gujarati gentleman standing on the footboard interrupted.

The elderly man continued, “Now this device- the mobile is making it more difficult for fellow commuters.”

“Sir…” the celebrated middle- aged Gujarati gentleman interrupted again. “Looking at your troubles, I would like to share a thought….”

“As you please…”

“Janaab, ek zamana thha, jab aadmi ke haath mein mobile hua karta tha…

abhi huzoor, aalam yeh hai ki mobile ke haath mein aadmi hai!!”

(There was a time when the mobile used to be in the grasp of man but times, are such that man is now under the grasp of the mobile!!)

Immediately he received rapturous cheers of “Waah, waah”!!

Someone quipped” Haa Ghalib chhe… Ghalib (This fellow is Ghalib)”

All the agony of travelling on a hot and humid Monday morning in the crowded cage was forgotten by one and all. Even the guilty candy crusher would have thanked our Ghalib for diverting all the unkind attention from him.

Ghalib de-boarded at Andheri with a glee on his face!!

[firstclassmen]

Rarely come across kids in a First Class compartment. Came across this Marvel Fan heading for England Vs India test at Wankhede!!

[firstclassmen]

Chancing upon Aayat

A little reluctantly I boarded the 6:59 Borivali slow from Bandra. The reluctance was primarily on account of the previous day’s experience when one was besieged to the crowds of Andheri and Goregaon. I found some space to stand near the entrance and got busy tuning in the radio. The signals were weak forcing me to take off the earphones. With nothing much to do, I tried looking out of the entrance in a bid to interpret the mysteries of life.

 The travel would have been nondescript had I not accidently pushed the person standing besides me. Draped in a Peanut shade shirt, sporting a beard was a frail Muslim gentleman going through his mobile. I apologized for the minor inconvenience. He smiled back, said it was ok and resumed reading the news on his mobile. It was then I noticed that the gentleman was reading the news in Urdu.

 Intrigued, I enquired of the app.

Dailyhunt is a Urdu based News app. At first glance I noticed a photograph of PM Narendra Modi and the BJP chief Amit Shah. There was an article apparently about demonetization (hopefully). It also had photographs of Kohli and Cook accompanied with a match preview of the 3rd test between India and England.

 It was exactly a week after I met Gulzar at the Tata Litfest where he had remarked in a conversation with Pavan Verma about Urdu’s country of origin being India and that the language blended both the nuances of Hindi and Farsi considerably well. He then enlightened the audience by extrapolating on his thoughts that Urdu had adopted the alphabets Ta, Tha, Dha and introduced Zza (not Jha) and few others in our pronunciation.

 I verbatim reproduced the same to my co-passenger who was mighty pleased after listening to this. He elicited his ignorance on such endeavours. I enquired him of any other Urdu news daily or app he would read. He would subscribe to the “Inquilab” (which is a fairly popular read in Mumbai). He then mentioned that however lately he would read the news on Dailyhunt immediately after offering his prayers at dawn and need not wait for the newspaper.  

 I then asked him whether he was aware where one could learn Urdu (reading it in its origin script). He elicited ignorance on existence of such institutions that would teach Urdu to grown ups. He apparently used to teach a friend of his. Incidentally he was a faculty of Urdu, Marathi and English for primary schoolboys at an Islamic educational institution (a school and not a Madarssah) located at Kurla.

 All along the stretch of the conversation and journey, he sported the smile, patiently listening and answering my queries on a variety of topics revolving Urdu. As his destination approached, I enquired him of the meaning of the word “Aayat”. Apparently it refers to the portions or verses of the ‘Quran’.

 As soon as he finished explaining the meaning, I broke into the song…

 “Taaveez ke tarah pehnoo usse…

.. aayat ki tarah mil jaaye kahin…” where Shahrukh Khan and Malaika Arora grooved to these verses penned by Gulzar.

 He smiled… (Actually, he laughed) after hearing me sing.

 As his station arrived, he said, “We shall meet again… I take this train frequently.”

 “Namaste!!”

  “Khuda Hafeez!!”

[firstclassmen]

The War Ravaged

After a hard day's toil I was waiting for my train at Bandra station when I came across a gentleman with gleaming silver hair making enquiries whether the approaching Virar Fast would drop him at Kandivali.

"No, board a Borivali fast!!" advised someone.

After the Virar train departed the gentleman enquired again, "Does BS stand for Borivali?" indicating at the electronic signboard notifying arrival of the next train.

One of the greatest mysteries that mystifies commuters is when A means Andheri, BO is Borivali, V is Virar, how do you explain 'BS' means Vasai Road. Not that Vasai is in Kolkata where B and V can be used interchangeably.

Nonetheless I advised the gentleman to wait for a BO train. Passengers destined to Borivali or preceding stations consider boarding a Virar/ Vasai bound fast train and then deboarding at Borivali would meet graver consequences than compared to say smoking.

The keenness to board the purportedly dangerous trains indicated that the gentleman was not familiar with travelling in Mumbai. I enquired whether he was new to the city.

Apparently he was from Pune and was visiting the city and after attending a seminar at Taj Land's End, he was on his way to visit his relatives at Kandivali. While we waited for the train we discussed our professional commitments. The gentleman had pursued MBA in UK and after stints in various marketing consultancy organisations was currently heading marketing for a IT company based at Pune (which I later found out has great reviews on glassdoor.com)

While I enjoyed the conversation which ranged on career, further studies, industry and management strategy, I was getting anxious as the crowd for the Borivali train was piling up.

I warned him "It would be a tad crowded. Barge in!!"

"Is one not pushed inside by the crowd?" The common folklore.

"I had read a book before I started travelling comfortably in the local trains...'The Art of War'."

"Sun Tzu- Greatest book on strategy" piped the gentleman before we were separated while boarding the train.

The train was overwhelmingly packed.

The Art of War enlists 5 constant factors a warrior should seek while determining the conditions of the battlefield. A crowded train is no lesser than a battlefield where you are your own "Commander" and the only moral law is not more than 3 people can sit in each of the alloted seats in 1st class. Earth is the knowledge of distances, dangers and security and that Jogeshwari has exits on both sides while Andheri none. A peak time travel during evening hours- Heaven (signifying period of the day and climatic conditions) is not for the uninitiated and requires Method and Discipline.

A peculiar tradition during peak hour travel is the sudden pelvic thrusts from the person loosely hanging on the edge of the footboard resulting in a cascading effect ensuring seepage of newcomers inside the inner annals of the coach. The heat and humidity adds to the discomfort. Those secure at their positions underneath the fan try their best to remain gluedto their positions and resist any intrusion. This leads to a volley of invectives between the perpetrator and the resistor.

For the uninitiated, the above evokes disgust. For the rest- Well, this is First Class travel!!

As the train reached Kandivali, I caught a glimpse of the gentleman. The gleaming silver hair was now dishevelled and disgust writ large on his face. The train slowly gathered speed.

[firstclassmen]

Churchgate Bound Crescendo

The months of April and May are usually deplored by the average Indian as the famed and dreaded Indian summer reaches its peak. However earlier this year, I found the period particularly convenient to travel in the Mumbai suburban train as scores of fellow commuters also left along with their wards to enjoy their summer vacations.  In order to avoid the sweltering heat, I would leave early to spend most of my day in the air-conditioned confines of my client’s office.

One such day, I found myself taking the 8:24 am ‘slow’ from Borivali platform 7. I usually do not look forward to a seat as it involves getting a little physical with other eager co-passengers. A convenient standing place is quite welcome and having found one besides a gently smiling guy, I then immersed myself catching glimpses of the Economic Times (ET) belonging to another commuter.

Though it might appear imprudent to the sensibilities of the readers, scores of fellow travellers unabashedly follow the success of other commuters crushing candies or reading their whatsapp messages exchanging Suprabhat, Jai Shri Krishna greetings, corny jokes, kisses and hearty eyes emoticons or viewing latest movies received through shareit or following the Nifty shaping up in the Moneycontrol app.

I am also guilty of the above endeavours. However at times this can be rewarding too.

The guy reading the ET was turning pages when I happened to catch a glimpse of the gently smiling guy standing beside me deeply absorbed watching a video of a philharmonic orchestra performing. The music must have been enthralling as the eyes of the gently smiling guy shone brighter with the engaging crescendo as the violinists appeared to be swaying more violently with their instrument and the finger movements on the trumpets and saxophones becoming equally aggressive.

“Excuse me if you do not mind, may I know what you are listening to?” I asked the gently smiling guy while indicating him to unplug his earphones.

“Well it is a video of Hans Zimmer conducting the Inception theme live at Vienna.”

Wow!! Till then I had not come across or had even conceived of people watching something like this while commuting in a Mumbai Local. But then the Mumbai Local loves to surprise you.

“I enjoyed his work in Interstellar.”

“Yeah that was plain genius.” replied the guy still smiling even after the intrusion of yours truly.

“Do you like Western Classical Music?”

Seeing the prospect of unrelenting intrusion, the guy did away with his earphones. “Not particularly but I like listening to a variety of music.”

“Oh!! Cool, then you must have really enjoyed listening to Revenant- not that I found the gore in the movie as comforting as the music.”

We continued our discussion ranging from movie soundtracks to attending plays and music concerts in Delhi and Chennai respectively, the difficulty of attending Western Classical Concerts at the NCPA (especially the ones featuring Zubin Mehta) and our professional preoccupation. As we probed together on matters of interest, one could make out that the guy was sharp, enthusiastic and had intelligent inputs on a variety of topics. Absorbed in the conversation I did not notice that the train was about to reach Bandra.

As I tussled my way to the exit, I inquired him of his name which I forgot as soon as I landed at Bandra.

[firstclassmen]

The Hipstress

Last evening an unusual person hopped in the First Class Compartment at Jogeshwari. Attired in a bright Orange tee and camouflage cargoes, the new entrant- a visibly elderly lady caught the attention of her co-passengers. One assumed that the elderly lady would have entered the coach mistaken since it would be safer for ladies to travel in the compartments allotted to them. However such presumptions were laid to rest as she raised her weary voice announcing sale of card/ pass holders and passport covers in both Hindi and surprisingly immaculate English.

The voice drew both our intrigue and sympathy as she made her way inside the compartment. The left side of her face was bulged suggesting an injury/ infection which had rendered her once elegant face distinctly disproportionate.

Meanwhile the lady had not made much success with respect to her sales. As her voice immersed in the rustle of the swiftly moving suburban Train, one wondered about the hardships and challenges the city and life offers. The plaintive voice now at a considerable distance seemed to be touching a chord and after much reluctance I passed an Rs 10 note through a co-passenger in exchange of a 9 pocket card holder.

As the Borivali station approached and I made preparations to de-board, the elderly lady attired in camouflage cargos and orange tee enquired “Bro, got your cardholder?”

#Swag #TheHipster