Victim of train attack (true story)

So lately I’ve been sharing with you my day to day mini-adventures and I’m sure many of you will be going, “Who gives a shit?”.   But is that going to stop me??? HELL NO!!

Today I had another, “Mera Bharat Mahan” moment on my way to work. Actually I have it every other day but I dont want to sound like a dramaqueen (Lindsay Lohan and the likes have dibs on that).

Trying to get your entire body (i.e from head to toe) inside the women’s first class train compartment without being shoved or kicked is like eating a cake and still losing weight – you want it BAD but it ain’t never gonna happen.

The amount of planning and strategizing that goes into this is so unbelievably comprehensive that even a flow chart of it will not be self explanatory. My personal plan is to get up early and reach the station before the train even arrives (I take the train that starts from my home). But of-course, I am not the only genius living there who has the same plan. In fact, there are some, out of this world geniuses who decide to take the train from the second-last station itself and insure a seat for themselves. I call them – @#$%^&*.

As soon as the train comes into sight, all the women at once turn into “Ivan Drago” and they start crowding near the railway tracks. The shoving and pushing begins before the train even enters the station. I can imagine what might be going through their minds – “Today, I’m not letting that biatch get the window seat”. That is the primary objective of all the ladies – to get a WINDOW SEAT and for those who can’t – to get a seat.

Considering you have to play nice at work all day long, all the in-built frustration can be removed through this milieu. So I don’t hold back either 😛

As the train slows down to a complete halt, I am awestruck at the impressive display of acrobatics by some women who otherwise would be considered to be amongst the “delicate darlings”. Further, there is a session of “you scratch my back and ill scratch yours” (in a literal way), afterwhich only the meanest and the pudgiest manage to get a seat.

You can actually hear the insecure aunties in their thirties thinking, “grow some mass you skinny little bitch”

After going through all this, it turned out that the woman who punched me in the stomach for my seat wants to get down at the next station (I know, WTF right?). So yeah, all this just to sit for 5 effing minutes.

Finally, when I do get a seat, I realize that there are only two stations (5 mins approx) left to go (lucky me!).

Dealing with this on a daily basis is going to be difficult but as a true Indian that I am, I WILL GET USED TO IT!

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