Life in a metro

Every morning as the sun rises, Parisiens get ready to get about their routine. So do I. Like thousands of others, I wait at the metro station at 8.30 in the morning to get to work. Even with a train every three minutes, most of the times I have to see at least two trains go past without getting in. Sometimes when I finally do, I need to decide in advance what position I'll stand in, because once I'm pushed in, I won't be able to move an inch until mydestination arrives.

On those rare days that I get a seat (it is invariably the days when I'm very late to work, so obviously those who were on time have already left!!) and don't really feel like reading, I observe my surroundings. People are either reading, listening to music or catching up with their sleep. There is near absolute silence. Most are well dressed, complete with make up (though God alone knows how they get the time to do it all with a train to catch at 8.30!!). For those reading this blog in India, it may sound ideal in contrast to the noisy Indian trains where people are talking so loudly, you wish your eardrums were punctured.

But the reality is different. Behind this silence hide a thousand thoughts, a thousand worries. Behind these perfect looks hides the imperfection of being human. Behind these blank faces hides the urge to run away from this city. The jam packed metros are the symbol of a rat race to move further than yesterday.

The few times I have noticed a smile in the train wagons is when someone poor enters to play an instrument or to sing. He's hoping to earn some money, he probably hasn't eaten in two days but has a smile...not a superficial smile on the face but a radiant smile reflecting in his eyes. I see in him a man with hope, a man who's happy to see another day. But the others, the ones caught in the rat race are so preoccupied that they dont let this man's peace penetrate through them. They stay as blank, as cold, as lost in their individual worlds.

I wonder...if, like in the movies, somebody stands on the metro station with a sign that says "Free Hugs", it would probably be weeks before someone takes a free hug. For it is the fear of being alone and vulnerable that Parisiens try to hide behind their silence and their perfect make up.

Every time I'm in the metro, I feel Paris has something to learn from India where people also have worries but they smile, they spread joy. And then suddenly, with some regret I realise, that was the case a couple of years ago. But now, even in smaller cities like Pune, every one is caught in the rat race and everyone has become selfish or individualistic to be politically correct!