EnterTRAINment.
2006 at 11:54 AM, Sunday
This time around I’d like to feature a crazy writ-up by my good friend Apoorv Singh. This guy writes amazing stuff which always makes me laugh – his use of words is the best part. Read the passage below and if you deserve to have genitals then you’re sure going to die laughing… LOL!
EnterTRAINment.An ongoing chronicle of a mentally dismayed and physically battered!
Ahh! Local trains? Mumbai local trains! Well, I don’t know in what milieu you have taken my ‘Ahh!’ reaction. Depends on what your mind frame about this wonder vehicle is. I know that you too have been traveling in this mobile capital. No, I am not talking about Mumbai, but Mumbai’s capital, ‘Local trains’. How do you feel when in the mornings you take bath from the soap that promises a germ free body and then embark the local trains? The first scandalous stir that I get is as if blowers have been put up in the compartment. Ooh! What a warm welcome! But then I realize that it’s the obnoxious aura of prolific passengers that adds humidity to the bogie. Welcome to the garden of bushy armpits, nasal flora and fauna. I go under a torturing aromatherapy. Pungent smelling clothes, three persons per square feet and corporal overpowering for the fourth seat are the matters that have been incredulously concerning me for the years.
All right! When the train bids adieu to the stations and the laggards running a marathon after it, almost feel like I have made halfway through the copiously occupied doors, stuffing myself into someone else’s body. Thrusts from back are the added disadvantage giving me asthmatic displeasures. The train keeps on sailing, as my nose gets busy combating the smelly areas of the other lowly passenger. Stations pass by and I discover my remarkable achievement of moving two more steps near the fourth seat. By that time I start my voluntary part time job of putting everybody’s gear on the ledge. The demands and requests just keep on increasing unless and until I plow up a meticulous employee with me. Getting unusually used to the atmosphere I retake an oath not to spend anymore on deodorants. And if I erroneously trance of the vacant seat I start feeling putrid again. Just imagine, when one is seated it becomes the assailed ground of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, like when the commuters liberate their blustery insanity on one’s face their snout going under distress (As if I have never underwent such thing?Whoa!!!). Not just that, in the mornings if one expects a cool breeze from the window seat, is surely taken aback by the dire stench of fermented paraphernalia lying on the tracks and everywhere! And wronged are the persons who expect to see beautiful sceneries from the window seat. There are many crouching perverts laying their humanity on tracks. Getting desperate to read my ‘Mid- Day’ in the multitude and equally finding it impossible to flap it up I avert it from getting floundered. I turn on to page three of it and notice that we got a new passenger in the train. The increasing numbers of heads around just poke in and pretend as if some other stuff rather than ‘Mid-Day Mate’ fascinates them. What must be called page three personalities in real sense!
Ok! I am grudgingly fortunate to have Kurla in between the stations, the place where one attains astounding salvation. If one needs a body massage for free, must once try getting down at this railway station. I have had many! That’s why today my bones are stronger with manifested rashes on the casing. Sometimes my bones play a fastidious instrumental music and the choir is mine! Kurla goes by and so half of the honored commuters. The train looks bare since the railway stations embezzle its curios. I look around for the seats but still I find myself in the ad-lib waiting list. As an affair of notion something clouts into my mind. Isn’t the local train Mecca for the faggots? Just pour in and gum to anyone of your choice. But then one has to be exceedingly chary of auxiliary person’s appalling accomplishments. Deem me! Even you must have experienced such thing. Whatever! That’s under the weather!
Completely made out for the day I retrace the seats. Yippee! The vacant window seat tempts me but soon my sense of wretched realization lands me on the station. I get down the train and proffer tedious prayers to the Almighty, ‘Thanks God for making me both mentally and physically strong. I endure my journey peacefully.’ The mode is different but effect all the same. By this time I get a good hullabaloo from back. I move forward with rancid buoyancy that the administration might do something, get lost in the crowds? THUDD!!!!!
Apoorv Singh
Guest Author: Apoorv Singh
Junior Copywriter, Hungama Digital Media Entertainment Pvt. Ltd.
Apoorv comes from an observatory of life – reading trends and human behavioral patterns that further help him implicating his ideas in promoting brands. An idea is the root of a campaign, and he has instilled it in him to go beyond the roots to achieve the unthought. From thinking campaign-able ‘big’ ideas to brainstorming on annual properties, he sees himself evolving with each idea, each pitch.
