Travails of travelling

You know that you are a regular Mumbai Local Train Commuter when:
1) You start recognizing other commuters
2) You start ignoring that ailing beggar whom you see daily on the stairs
3) You have the timetable stored on your phone memory
4) Your facebook status message is the latest railway announcement
5) You feel sad and disturbed (and yet you don't help) when you see a handicapped person travelling all by herself. And, you thank the Lord for what he has given you.
6) You know what 'jalad' means
7) You look out of the window to have a quick glance at the ruins of an old factory your train crosses-by daily
8) You are not flustered by the oily heads and sweaty hands. OK! Sometimes you ARE!
9) You carry a deodorant and a comb with you.
10) You know how to push yourself in and out a train with ease. Yeah Yeah, I know. Not Always!
11) You become apathetic to people around you.
12) You know where the First Class bogey will halt.
13) You know the train route by heart.
14) You have developed the skill to sleep while standing
15) You start tapping your feet to the tunes of a crappy 90's Bollywood number being played on someone's cell phone.
16) You have witnessed at least one cat-fight between the commuters in each week of your travel.
17) You know to which side the next station's platform will be
18) You have a monthly or a quarterly season ticket.
19) You start preferring a train over a more comfortable taxi ride in the peak hour.
20) You can recognise the face of the vendor selling 'pass covers' and ball pens outside the station.

The Smart Taxiwallah

Today morning I got a pleasant surprise.
I was struggling on the road outside Dadar Station to catch a cab to my office at Shivaji Park. None of the drivers were ready to go as I did not have a change of fifty (it's a minimum fare from Dadar (W) to Shivaji Park). So, in all the desperation that I had to take a cab to work, I bought a bottled of packaged water to get myself a change of cash.
And as I turned back, I saw a vacant Taxi approaching. I showed out my hand and it stopped. Even before I could complete saying "Shivaji Park", the cabbie said it.
This was followed by the following monologue from him:
"Aapke kapdon pe likha hai aapko Shivaji Park jana hai.
Aapke bag pe likha hai.
Aapke chashme pe likha hai.
Aapke to poore chahre se tapak raha hai Shivaji Park, Mayor Bunglow, Veer Savarkar Trust"

I couldn't help but laugh with him and admire his friendliness.

He went on to tell me how he daily watches so many of my fellow office colleagues lined up on this road and often drops them (and amuses them with his banter).

He even knew the best route.

It surely was a good start to a mundane Monday!