SkyTrain Switch

There is usually a 2 to 1 ratio between Expo and Millennium Line SkyTrains leaving from Waterfront Station in Vancouver. An Expo Line train terminates in Surrey while a Millennium Line train does a partial loop through the suburbs before returning to Vancouver. Even though I am hoping for a Millennium Line train to saunter down the tracks, usual an Expo Line train comes my way. As there is a distinctly small chance of a Millennium Line train overtaking the Expo Line trains that have preceded it on the same track, there are two temporally equivalent actions I can take:

• Get on the present train and switch to my desired one at a later point in time

or

• Let this train leave without placing myself within its welcoming interior and wait for the correct one to arrive eventually

One of these two options allows me to reduce my overall risk of being stuck in transit limbo. I want to be as close to my final destination as possible before there is a delay inducing incident aboard a train, at a station, or on the tracks itself. Any or all of these events will happen at least once a week to a daily commuter. My decision then becomes easy. I will get on the Expo Line train and ride it until Columbia Station, after which it will veer off towards Surrey, while I will await a Millennium Line train once more.

One winter evening, I nonchalantly boarded an Expo Line SkyTrain departing from Waterfront Station. I knew it was an Expo Line train since I required a Millennium Line one and I always check the display to see where the train is heading. This information is reconfirmed aboard the train when a soothing female voice announces which line the train is operating on. Usually I power down and go on standby mode until Columbia Station arrives, but on this enchanted night I became aware of my surroundings at an earlier stop as an ARNABabe was standing at the gates of my train compartment in anticipation of going to Surrey. The soothing female voice once again spoke, but this time she mentioned that the train was a Millennium Line one. I was still groggy at the time so the impact of the announcement had not yet dawned on me. The ARNABabe frowned and decided not to embark (having not spotted me). The sliding doors slowly closed and my train sped up, leaving her but a memory.

I was not completely disheartened though as I had discovered I was on a Millennium Line train and would not have to switch trains again. My journey continued, with each successive stop being accompanied by the announcement that this was a Millennium Line train. All was well, until Columbia Station. Now the voice said that this was an Expo Line train. Befuddled, I exited the train and saw others hastily do so as well with sheepish looks on their faces. I decided that I had been right all along in my perception that I was traveling on board an Expo Line train. My conviction was weakened though as two successive Expo Line trains came within the next ten minutes. According to my carefully observed 2:1 Expo to Millennium ratio this should not have occurred as that would mean there were 3 Expo Line trains in a row. The first of the two Expo line trains contained the ARNABabe seated inside, which provided further proof that at some point in the past my train had definitely been a Millennium Line train as the only reason she did not get on was because she wanted to take a ride on the Expo Line. Several minutes later a real Millennium Line came and took me home, but the mystery of the switching SkyTrain was never solved. To this day I wonder where those fateful souls aboard the Millennium/Expo Line train eventually ended up.

Auto Rickshaws

My primary mode of transportation for intracity travel was the venerable auto rickshaw. Predominantly sporting an yellow and black paint job, these vehicles occupy an unique niche between private vehicles and public transportation. The peculiar shape and sturdy frame allows for it to navigate through dense traffic and diverse terrain without a care in the world. Auto rickshaw drivers are an interesting lot. Their driving skills are usually exceptional, allowing them to maneuver their three-wheeled vehicles through the most treacherous of road conditions. Their business ethics however, are suspect.

Officially only two ways to obtain a fare should be available – prepaid according to some standardized distance chart or according to the untampered meter which is to start running at the precise moment that the journey commences. In reality, it comes down to negotiating a price somewhere above what the actual rate should be. According to them, wherever you are going is either too far or too near, so you have to pay extra for the added effort or sacrifice.



Your destination will also be deserted even if it is the heart of a city with over 5 million people in it. They will have to drive back empty exactly to the point where you were picked up, so that means double the fare on the meter should be paid. If you want to accompany them on this return journey though, the fare again doubles. If it rains (August – November) or gets dark (after 6pm), 1.5 times the meter should be paid due to the personal anguish and physical stress placed upon them during these difficult times. If there is a traffic jam that means they will have to wait idly by without making much headway towards your destination. This will cause them to lose potential customers, so additional financial incentive should be provided.

Only 3 passengers and a driver are allowed by law unless extra moneys are provided. No change will be carried by the rickshaw driver at any time of the day or night, so the fare must be rounded up. Vehicles should only be refueled once a passenger is on board and not during the times when no passenger is present. Tea/coffee/toilet breaks and visits to shops/homes are permissible, but only for the driver. The meter may quite frequently be broken, too slow/fast, completely missing, or a figment of your imagination, so the charge will be greater.

The Bus Jump

At 7pm sharp each working day I leave my office and head towards the area where the Satyam busses are parked. This location changes occasionally to add an element of surprise. None of the company buses have dropping points near my residence, so I have resorted to taking the bus whose route comes nearest to the venue for my fine dining or other entertainment that I have planned for that night. As these are not on the official list of drop points, the bus drivers are reluctant to stop. Sometimes they slow down enough for me to elegantly leap of the bus and make a graceful landing on the surface of the road. Sometimes they only appear to be decelerating, before picking up the pace.

Such was the case, when I departed a bus in a section of town known as RT Nagar (named after the brilliant Rabindranath Tagore) to play a friendly game of pool with my eager colleague Kartik. Misjudging my angle and time of departure from the bus, I landed on the street knees first, lost my balance, fell, then revolved three times on the ground, before springing back up and striking a heroic pose to placate the souls of my female fans who were seated at the front of the bus and witnessed the whole spectacle with eyes wide and mouths open, concern for my well being clearly etched across their demure faces. Meters away the bus came to a halt and out jumped my coworker. Heroically, he came to my rescue, cleaning my wounds and nursing me back to health over the course of the next few hours.

“You’re a puff.” – British roommate upon examining the extent and severity of my injuries.

Where Did All the Autos Go?

One sunny Bangalore morn I dressed up smartly in my carefully selected business casual outfit and proceeded for work. Having exited my flat and reaching the main street upon which I hail auto rickshaws with only the use of my intense gaze, I noticed a strange occurrence – the complete absence of these three wheeled vehicles on the road. Dazed and confused, I waited half an hour to no avail. The rickshaws were nowhere to be seen. Otherwise daily life was unfolding regularly, so I deduced the rickshaws must be on strike. To confirm my educated guess I returned home and checked the news on the television. Sure enough, the rickshaw drivers were on strike in protest of police cruelty or some other preposterous claim. Now my only remaining option to get to work was to use the public transportation system. Changing into some unwashed and decidedly less glamorous clothes, I waddled towards the bus station. Three buses and an hour and a half later I arrived at my work place, only a little worse for wear.

Goa

On a Friday night I met up with a group of 13 Europeans. The approximate breakdown was 6 Dutch, 1 German, 1 Italian, 2 English, 1 Belgian, 1 French, and 1 Hungarian. Together we departed for north Goa on a two story bus, where the top deck consisted of mattresses and the bottom one of reclining seats. Always a gentleman, I took one of the less comfortable seats with my head grazing the bottom of the bunk positioned above me. 14 hours later we arrived in Panjim, Goa. From there the group split into two, with some settling down in Calangute and some in Vagator, but then meeting later on for joint escapades. The first of these locations, Calangute, offers a long stretch of sandy beach with overpriced activities on offer such as parasailing and jet skiing, while the other, Vagator, is known more for parties but has a rockier beach.

The first day was spent learning how to ride a motorized bike. The Europeans looked down at me as I can only drive an automatic vehicle and have no experience with gears. I rented a scooter, a Honda Activa, and after a few practice rounds and one close encounter with physical disfigurement, was soon off and running. At high speeds (30kph) I was comfortable, but I was very bad at maintaining balance and maneuvering through high traffic areas. Due to my minimal velocity and lack of driving skills, at one point I was leading a caravan of around 70 cars, trucks, bullock carts, etc down the main street linking the two beach destinations. I pulled over and went inside a street side restaurant. After watching India’s cricket team play miserably against Bangladesh for one hour, I noticed that the traffic had subsided and thus continued on my journey. At night we proceeded to Club Cabana, where the young, rich, and beautiful gathered for a night of fun and frolic. The theme was “Model’s Night”. I spotted two scantily dressed ones (or was it 4?). Apparently India’s most legendary superstar Amitabh Bachchan was present for all of 35 seconds at this fancy establishment, situated on a hilltop overlooking the Goan countryside.

Day 2 was a continuation of the first night’s party. Thoroughly inebriated and unable to drive my scooter back to my hotel, I shared a cab back to my place with the French lady and a middle aged couple who were still young at heart. Around noon, I awoke, had lunch, and picked up my scooter, before heading off for the beach. A hearty game of beach soccer was played and I put on a dazzling display of my defensive skills, stripping the opposition of the ball and blocking shots with equal vigor. While the others were sunbathing, I proceeded to climb up a nearby hill. The ruins of a fort and a magnificent view awaited me. Apparently this was also the location of a famous scene from the Hindi movie Dil Chahta Hai. A 65 year old Bob Marley fan offered me a strawberry, clasped my hand and pounded it against his chest, and advised me to “Live free”. The second night ended with a trek down the hillside to the beach, only to discover that it was almost entirely gone due to the high tide. We retreated and after considerable effort and teamwork, created a beachside bonfire. Soon everyone fell quiet and underneath the starry sky contemplated their place in the annals of history. Meals consisted of hearty amounts of seafood and liquid intake was primarily alcoholic. Before heading back to Bangalore, I sampled the Goan poison known as feni in two distinct flavors – coconut and cashew, with coconut winning the taste sweepstakes. All in all, a most wondrous experience!

Driving Test

Indian drivers are known for their passionate distaste of traffic rules, liberal usage of the horn, and uncanny maneuvering abilities. They are also required to pass a rigorous written examination if they wish to obtain an authentic driving license. As a frequent “joy-walker” I must also be aware of proper road regulations. The top ten excerpts from the state of Karnataka’s practice test:

12. Which lane must you be in while making a right turn:-
a. any lane.
b. extreme left lane.
c. extreme right lane.

28. Before leaving a vehicle parked, you should:-
a. Turn the ignition key off.
b. Stop the engine, lock the ignition, remove the key, and set the hand brake.
c. Look the car.

56. Over speeding or dangerous driving:-
a. Attracts strict warning from the authorities.
b. Is an invitation to accident.
c. Is an offence and is punishable under the law.

72. A pedestrian is crossing the street at an intersection in an unmarked cross walk, you should:-
a. Yield or give the pedestrian the “right-of-way’.
b. Proceed with care as pedestrian is ‘joy-walking’.
c. Reduce speed and warn pedestrian.

87. When the Motor Vehicle Inspector demands any information:-
a. Not obligatory to furnish it.
b. It is obligatory to furnish it.
c. He can refuse.

102. Why do we have speed limits?
a. To keep the traffic within a safe speed for existing condition.
b. More vehicles can be used on roads.
c. Authority can identify who is speeding.

106. When you approach a barrier, it is:-
a. Obligatory to stop the vehicle.
b. Mandatory to stop the vehicle.
c. Caution to stop the vehicle

116. When a cow is standing across the road:-
a. As to and wait until it clears the road.
b. Pass if from front.
c. Pass it from behind.

134. A driver shall drive in ‘one way’:-
a. Always in the direction specified by sign board.
b. Reverse direction in emergencies.
c. Both ways on Sundays.

136. If you are fined for any traffic violations you must feel:-
a. Proud.
b. Humiliated.
c. To correct your attitude in future.

Answers: 12. (c), 28. (b), 56. (c), 72. (a), 87. (b), 102. (a), 106. (c), 116. (c), 134. (a), 136. (c)

The complete practice exam can be found on Karnataka’s Road Transport Office website.

Mumbai Monsoons

A while back, 3 Koreans, a guy from Montreal, and I visited Mumbai. It was a 16 hour train ride from Hyderabad. During the night I was awakened by two police officers. They told me to close the windows and go to sleep in the top bunk, as we would be crossing a danger zone for the next two hours and they had to sit in the bottom bunk for security purposes. I kept my eye on them and they left when they said they would. Once we arrived at Mumbai, we took a taxi to the Gateway of India. Next we visited the Taj Mahal Hotel, India's finest, before settling for a less expensive option nearby in Colaba. Random strangers offered to sell me musical instruments, umbrellas, balloons, and drugs. Being the consummate gentlemen, I politely declined.

Once the other interns departed for Hyderabad, I made my way via local commuter train to visit my relatives in the suburb of Guragaon. This same train line would be the target of terrorist attacks a week later. Males and females stand in different compartments, with approximately 40 people per square meter. The train stops for 5 seconds at each stop. During this brief moment of time, hundreds of people simultaneously board and disembark the train. It is suggested that you start making your way towards the exit about 2-3 stops beforehand. That way the tide of humanity will automatically force you out by the time you reach your intended destination. I escaped with only a few cuts, bruises, and missing clumps of hair.

The next two days I was stranded in my relative's apartment, with the monsoon hitting hard and flooding the greater Mumbai region with knee to waist deep water. Roads were closed and trains were delayed or cancelled, so I took a morning flight out of Mumbai back to Hyderabad.

Mumbai Public Service Announcement:

DUE TO HEAVY RAIN AND AS RAIN IS GOING FOLL CONTIOUSLY 48 HOURS BE REQUEST TO PEOPLE OF MUMBAI IT IS NOT VERY IMPONTENT TO COME OUT OF THE HOUSES MAY PLEASE AVOID COMMING OUT