Heaven from all Creatures hides the Book of Fate - So true.

It was a typical Tuesday, atleast it seemed so to me. The battle that I fight in vain to get up at 6 AM having had a restless sleep after a hefty share of tossing and turning, next came the job to put on the bath water onto the stove to boil. You may ask, no geyser a? Geyser hai, but working nahi hai – I will answer promptly. You see, when the geyser broke down a few months back I devised a clever plan (much like King Julian from Madagascar) to not fix it and hence have the motivation that I needed to get up a few minutes early. Now I am going, what the hell was I thinking? Clever, schmever! Bah!!

The water’s on the stove and next comes “What should I make for lunch?”. I consider the options.

*Skip lunch – Contributes to weight loss (acidity? What? Who?); I can sleep for another 10 minutes but I look down at my tummy and can literally hear the future rumbling at 12.30 PM.

*Buy Dabba – I can sleep for another 9 minutes; my very very thin purse catches my eye (thin cuz it’s the month end and the working class know the depleting nature of the currency as the month end looms threateningly); again hear the future tummy rumbling.

Sadly I pick up a couple of vessels and prepare them for cooking um..”food”. Hustle, bustle and 45 mins later – bath water is ready, lunch is packed with yummy doshas and thenga chutney and I grab the towel and rush to put my 10 mins bath water prepping to good use. The bath has helped clear up the sleepy fogginess and 20 mins later, I am all dressed up and ready to rush out of the door – almost. I had forgotten to plug in my music companions firmly in my ears before I begin my walk to catch my ever so faithful but damn so chilly AC bus.

“Super mama. Ready?! One two three four..” I am at the bus stop ready to wait out the 5 mins before my AS 77 EXP slugs along. Fortunately, Dhanush after having kept me company graciously moved aside to let Surya perform “Yellae Lama..” (in my head of course – I mean the picturization). I had Surya in this lovely blue and black jacket in my head when the bus came. Got my usual “window” seat under the -1 deg C air blasting damned AC. Sometimes I wonder how "thick skinned" people should be to survive 60 mins of the air blast THAT cold.

The 60 mins went by as uneventful as ever, unless you count my bundling into a warm cocoon as an “event”. Yadda yadda yadda, work work work, yadda yadda yadda, its 4.45 PM. Time to catch the – wait for it – LOCAL. Brrrrr, always sends a spine down my back or maybe it was the AC on my way out the door. Anyway, being in Mumbai and travelling by the local train is a task fit for gladiators. Travellers commuting by the local on a daily basis should be honoured with a Nobel prize or something for “Endurance”. Trust me, it IS that difficult. Its next to impossible. I know I sound like 'Miss. Glass is half empty' but I would prefer giving out a word of caution than see any of you put through the test. But this day, this fateful Tuesday I had no choice but to risk it. The horrors in store for me -Heaven from all creatures hides the Book of Fate.

The part where you reach the Bandra east station itself is equivalent to climbing The Everest. The journey from where the bus drops you to climbing the station bridge to getting onto the right platform is just that – a JOURNEY.

Mohit Chauhan crooned “Naadan Parinday ghar aa ja..” while the Borivali bound train slowly threatens its way towards us. I say threatened cuz the commuters who are Bandra bound and ON the train already have adapted this style of throwing themselves off the train before the train comes to a complete halt. I wouldn’t blame them cuz if they dint, they would probably be able to get off the train only at the last stop, what with the wave of commuters looking to board the train. I had learnt a thing or two to Poondhax my way through crowds – thanks to the short breaks, small windows and always crowded Avila canteen – and I used my Poondhax way to squeeze myself (bag and all) into the ladies compartment without breaking a rib or a bone.

Sandwiched between two noisy maushis, I waited for an opening to use good old Poondhax again and gain some breathing space. Meanwhile, Enrique: It must be Love…, shuffled my leg a bit…

Maushi 1: What do you think you are doing? Cant you stay in one place.

Me: *closest impression of an Owl I could put up*

Maushi 2: Why do you come into this train with all this bags and stuff? (Her bag must weigh atleast a ton, of course I aint counting all the space her butt was occupying)

Me: “Switty Switty Switty tera pyaar chahida..” *if you listened closely you could hear my teeth making this grinding noise*

Maushi 1: See how she is pretending she doesn’t hear us? Kids these days, sacchi. Such a shame to their parents. *shaking her head and giving a few good shoves with her 2 tonne bag*

Maushi 2: Oh my god! Now that she is comfortably in the train, she is not only pretending not to hear us, she is pushing me also. (With her butt taking up all the space, I simply couldnt comprehend how anyone wasn’t pushing her)

Me: “Aalochana vasthane…”

Maushi 1: *staring daggers* we made the mistake by letting her in. No manners or basic courtesy at all.

Now all of you should know something about me, I am not the one who would walk about picking fights in public. In private, yes I can be categorized the “Don’t take me for granted, you sleazeball” types but in public, I prefer being impassive and concentrate on Siddharth and Surya and Ashwin and Balaji and their million dollar smiles to distract myself in situation such as the one I was facing then. But this time, the butt space, the tonnage, the very sound of their pointless tongues wagging snapped something in me. The rest of the conversation was pretty one-sided – the one side being mine. Sample is as follows:

Me to Maushi 1: Ennadi nenachitirukka un manasula? Local train ellam unga appa sotha, ni mattum 10 bag vechu eraruthuku. Appdina proof kudu di, myir! Pesa vandhittalum. Unnaku sohusa ponum na sonthama mandala irukara masala vechu, train a manufacture pannu, jammunu 10 bago 20 bago thookitu po.

Me to Maushi 2: Apram ni, unnaku enna manasula Playboy model nu nenappa. 150 kg irunthutu, 25 kg alavukku scena podra. Niyum bag a thookitu thana nikra? Ivlo edatha un gundu body edutha pinna eppdi di thallama nippanga? Arivu irukka enna? Nan pesama iruntha, enna venalum pesuvaya.

Me to both: Engalukkum vai irukku. Ithuku mela oru vartha pesuneenga *violent gestures with my hand* nadakarathae vera. Samjhe na?

I took a deep breath and realized that I had reached Borivali. I got down with a jump in my step after the train slowed down, arranged my face into a menacing stare and gave the two maushis a face they wouldn’t forget in a beat. I turned to the west side with this big smile that went from ear-to-ear. Little did I know, I would get so much satisfaction by speaking Tamil to people who dint even understand a word of it.

Heaven from all creatures hides the Book of Fate - Govinda Govinda. :D