Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is a train. Sometimes a railway coach is better than a classroom.
Of course I’ve been on the Delhi subway before, but only for short rides. This evening I’m riding the rail from Connaught Place to Gurgaon. It’s a long ride, but I’m comfortably ensconced in the women’s-only coach. Maybe the pink signboards that I saw just as I entered have contributed to my feeling of well-being; colour specialists claim the rosy hue is ‘nurturing and physically soothing’.
I pick up my book to read, but my heart’s not in it. The musicality of the voices around me is making the letters on the page dance. Eavesdropping has never seemed more attractive.
Almost all the women around me are well turned out so I’m hoping for some interesting tips on clothes, shoes, maybe even make-up. These are Delhi girls after all. But I’m in for a surprise.
“A new study suggests that grapefruit juice is as effective as Metformin at lowering blood glucose,” the woman on my right is telling her friend. “Apparently researchers fed three groups of mice grapefruit juice, sugary water and water containing Metformin, you know that diabetes drug. Not only did the mice who drank the juice see as big a drop in blood glucose and insulin as those having Metformin, they also lost as much weight.” “Hey, that’s crazy. Metformin is what my dietician has given me—not officially of course, she’s not allowed to do that by law, but under the table. Maybe I can have grapefruit juice instead. What do they call it in Hindi?” replies the friend enthusiastically.
Before I can hear the answer, my attention is grabbed by the lady in front of me. “I’m so angry with Nitin,” she shouts into her phone. “Here I am still on my way back from a wretched day at work. I have to get off the train and go to the stationers for chart paper which Nivedita needs for a project at school tomorrow and Varun has already called and said he wants to have homemade pizza for dinner. And instead of helping with either, Nitin is off for an office party. Yes, already. Can you imagine?”
I try and imagine but not for long. Because on the far left is someone leaving nothing to the imagination. There’s serious party prepping happening here. The girl—she looks no more than 20—takes off her shirt first to reveal a sequined tank top. Next, she dabs on concealer, eye shadow, blusher… there appears to be a Lakme counter in her purse. Make-up done, she puts on giant earrings and stilettos that could give the Kanchenjunga a complex. Finally, she stands up and takes a selfie—presumably to check the overall effect. It obviously passes muster for she begins packing away her belongings, still oblivious to the staring eyes.
I slowly return to my surroundings where conversations are still zig-zagging around the coach. Dr Subway on my right has competition from the left. From leaning thataway, I learn that beer is the “richest source of silicon”. That apparently means doffing a glass or two can take away nail brittleness and increase circulation in your scalp, thereby improving hair growth.
Who was it who said education is learning what you didn’t even know you didn’t know. Maybe I should go for another ride and find out.
shampa@newindianexpress.com