The metro station was in a bizarre cacophony. There were Indians shouting at the top of their voices over phone. There were Filipinos who were trying to rip off their vocal chords, which sounded more like ducks quacking. There were Arabs who seemed uninterested in the expat balderdash. There were Africans whose multi-coloured multiple braids shone in style. There were some Whites lazily sitting, looking at the Metro clock every now and then. There were many other nationalities whose ethnicities unknown to me made me ignore them. As far as I was concerned, my eyes had enough material to feast on.
And there was me, standing resting my back on the wall and observing the fun.
Subway Surfer was getting immensely boring as my umpteenth attempt to better the score set by a friend on my phone went in vain. Hence, I thought of doing something worthwhile.
The metro clock read 5 more minutes for the train’s arrival. 5 minutes of observation could get me an immensely rich psychographic data.
Finally, the bombastic voice announced that the train was arriving on the platform. The announcement sounded more like a war cry to me. The people, who were scattered in the platform, lazing and chatting, sprang up to life and approached the doors as if marching to the enemy lines.
The rush to get in was tremendous. The crowding at the doors left hardly any area for the exiting passengers. The rush to get out was an equally mad crowd who wanted to rip off any thing that came in their path. The man at the last was waiting with the serenity shaded eyes, for all the mad men to ingress and egress.
At last, the last man got in. I just made it in time, just as Mr. Boombastic announced ‘Doors closing’, first in vernaculars and then in the universal tongue.
The observation was in full swing till the station where I disembarked. I experienced the similar war like feeling as I got down the train. It was really a big deal, getting in and out.
I saw the rush, following suit, at the gates of the elevator. Those who didn't make it this time ran up to the escalators. The people were queuing up to go up. The flight of stairs adjacent to the elevators stood empty as the queue was getting larger.
Those who were in a rush did not seem to consider the time in the queue as a deterrent to their presumably already backward running schedule.
Just then, someone received enlightenment. One last entrant to the queue, looked like a Brit, left the queue and answered the calling of the stairs. No one seemed to get the impetus transferred to them as this guy was climbing up the stairs.
I was just halfway through the elevator as he made it up through the Staircase to Heaven!