"Platform Number 1 ki local 7:35 ke Belapur jaane wale dheemi local hai" - she stepped out of the crowded local and pushed her way through the crowd.
"
I love Mumbai city, but hate the crowd. Why should every place be so crowded" - she remembered how her ex-boy friend always hated the city and locals for its crowd. "
Well this is not your small town. Yeh hai Mumbai meri jaan" - she proudly told him as they usually hurried to catch a auto rickshaw in sharing.
The auto in sharing was an entirely different animal compared to the local. It was always a demand - supply mismatch during the peak hour outside the station. This resulted in all sorts of competition where people tried to push their way into the auto.
"In India, you have to compete for every seat - ranging from college seat, MLA seat to an auto seat" - he always muttered to her as they jostled their way into a auto.
"Shh. Why do you crib so much. Always follow the second auto strategy" - she said.
The second auto strategy was something which she had developed and applied to everything in life. Normally auto rickshaw's come one behind the other. The impatient crowd tries to fight their way into the first auto rickshaw. So someone who targets the second auto, usually gets an assured seat. In the same way, she always shopped in the second store, ate at the second hotel and even rejected her first job and took the second offer. "
But how can you tell confidently that second one is the best" - he often questioned her. She used to shrug and smile off the question.
That night, as usual she got into the second auto and dialled her husband to inform him that she was on her way. As the rickshaw passed the neighbourhood sai baba mandir, she caught a fleeting glimpse of her ex-boyfriend. There he was with his kids and wife. "
A cute happy family" - she smiled. As the auto passed by the temple, her thoughts were entirely on him.
"Wish he understood that the secret behind the second auto was that she hated to fight - rather to compete and lose". Labels: Fiction, Mature, Me Myself and Agony, Musings