The Fault in my Stars?

Throwback. July 2^nd, 2014 :

That day was such which I can’t help but pen down, for I made new friends who are still un-named but people I’m going to remember for the rest of my lifetime. Not for some heart-amazing reason, but just because they were companions, who spent those longest three hours with me in the Ist Class compartment of the 10:49 am local train.


And, here is the complete account.
“What made today different from any other, especially since I’m writing a complete post on it?
Well, every minute detail.
Right from the fact that I was getting treated at the Press Club of Times of India, where only 'journalists' dine. I was more than excited to be called for lunch there, since I had just been an intern. With all the excitement in me, I got dressed up for the lunch so that I could be there on time. Whilst on the way, I decided I would stop by college for some work. As I boarded my 10:49 local from Thane, I’d hardly thought it would be one adventurous ride today, without even reaching halfway to my destination.

The train, steadily passed Vikhroli and Ghatkopar, taking more halts than usual. It was only when we had passed Vidyavihar that the train came to a standstill. Right between, Kurla and Vidyavihar, in the middle of nowhere. After an hour of listening to my playlist and reading Economic Times, I decided to look up and inspect the matter, a bit. By then, women who had been standing had started getting down the train and walking on the track, while a majority still remained in the train not budging at all. As time passed, conversations ensued. Some complaints, some ranting, some panicking, while rest phone calls. But, anyhow the entire compartment was talking. We could hear men from the adjacent compartment also engaging in similar activity.

Hours passed and not for a second did it seem as if the train was going to move an inch. As I stood gazing out of the window, looking for some signals and counting the number of fast trains passing did I realize that getting down would be a better option. So, finally I did jump down along with three other females. As a matter of fact, we were some of the last ones to get down. But still, there was no sign of a Thane bound train, which only meant, I had to walk my way back to Vidyavihar. So I did. And, trust me, never for a moment did I feel alone, it was like half the Mumbai crowd was on tracks. Mumbai had come to a standstill.

Finally, walking through tracks and streets, I found my way to Ghatkopar station in order to ultimately board a train back home. But, what actually struck upon me was the approachability every Mumbaikar carries. Irrespective of whether you know the one in front of you or not, it takes only a smile to connect. A talk to open up, and there builds a new friendship.”

No anonymity, no strangeness. Only too much Love.
“Mumbai may not be my city, but it is my kind of city.”
Mumbai Meri Jaan.