Life in a Metro…

The pretty girl, with bow shaped brows and the little black mole near her lower lip, grabbed a seat next to Mr. bald head. She was never in a good mood, it seemed. A frown was always pasted on her pretty face. She would support her chin with her palm, as if avoiding it will make her jaw crash down the earth and sit cross legged. She will evade from any kind of eye contact with the man/ woman seated next to her. Once she had sat next to me and had forced me to re-think about my intentions, if any. Which, let me assure, in this case were all good.

Mr. Bald head ‘stud’, sitting next to her, was always the last one to enter the metro. He would often barge into it when the doors are on the verge of closure. He would then stop them form his foot and at the sound of the sirens an evil smile will twist on his face. The grin on his face is the look of triumph and victory on an emperor’s face. He certainly had royal traits with his pierced ear, red shades inside the train and his body fit tight ‘faded’ jeans he took the world away with him.

The meager looking female must be a fresh arrival, have not seen her around. That reminds me Mr. God is not here, must be unwell. He is a man in his mid fifties who is always dressed in white reminds me of Morgan Freeman from Bruce Almighty. That is precisely why I named him Mr. god.

Sitting in the extreme corner, today is the nerd with black rimmed specs, bushy eyebrows and a useless book. Oh wait! She looks familiar. I have met her somewhere. Guess that nerd happens to be me.

I have now become part of this crowd. As Eliot puts it “dull head among windy spaces”

It is impossible to differentiate between the thousands of faces that I encounter. The expressions are just the same. Blank faces, loaded with millions of aspirations, eyes laden with last night’s quarrel and mind full of anxieties. All of us are dreaming about a secure future, a brighter tomorrow and are willingly giving away our present for it.