Give them a big hand (of help)

If the city were a circus, the train would be a prop for millions of young, old and half-the-height-of-the-doorway-pole children who waste no chance to show off their trapeze artiste-like skills with their many antics.

From my very first train ride to now, one question that has plagued me — and continues to pop in my head quite angrily every time I take the train — is: Why do people stand in the train’s doorway, like a dog hanging his head out of a car window, even when they don’t want to get down at the next stop?

Some might say that the interiors are so crowded that there is no choice but to stand in the doorway. But there are some who hang out even when there is ample space to sit and stand inside. Are they fulfilling the role of a door, the way they swing the rest of their body out with one hand holding a bar in the corner and legs planted in the nook of the door, when someone wants to get down? Or maybe it gives them a sense of power, the way the person having the TV remote feels… why else would there be so many fights over it?

Apart from guarding the doorway, their other acts include…
1. When the train pulls in at a station, sometimes, on its other side, there is a metal railing which divides the up and down tracks. The artistes plant one foot on the railing with the other on the train’s footboard, hands on their hips. Applause! If the train gives a sudden lurch or either of their foot slips they might just fall face down between two tracks and probably crack their skull, but applause!

2. Another is hopping from train to train, literally. When two trains going in the opposite direction reach a station at the same time and are standing next to each other. If either of the train moves you will probably be sliced in two but some brave ones don’t care, as they hop from one train’s doorway onto the other.

3. Getting down at a stop even though it’s not theirs and there is no one else behind them either wanting to get down. Then when the train starts moving, with one hand holding the doorway pole, they run with the train and don’t get on till it picks up speed. This is how Superman (or Rajinikanth!) must have practised before he was able to outrun the train and stop it with one hand.

I have deliberately left out travelling on top of the train; it’s been done to death (quite literally!) — by commuters, as an act, and by newspapers, as a hazard. There are many more antics, and I am sure people will keep thinking of new ones. Railways and media can scream themselves hoarse of the dangers of such shenanigans; when have we ever paid attention to what’s good for us!