The longest mile

If you live in Mumbai, commuting 60 km becomes a part of your daily life. Every day, you have to spend either three hours on the road or a neat two hours on the local train. But Mumbaiites don’t seem to mind. Sometimes, however, this distance becomes unbearable.
A year ago, I was travelling from Churchgate to Andheri by train around six in the evening. You are lucky if you manage to get a foothold, the train is so crammed during that time. You just can’t move on your own, your movement can only be determined by the flow of humanity. Things are so bad that sometimes you can’t even answer your phone because there is not enough space for you to reach your pocket.
A middle-aged gentleman standing in front of me got a call, thanks to his Bluetooth device, he answered it immediately. A few seconds later, I heard him crying out loud, “Kya? Papa nehin rahe!” His father had passed away. Everyone turned towards him. He didn’t know what to do. Neither did we, his co-commuters, knew how to deal with such a situation. He was not in a position to continue his conversation. He was devastated and was not prepared for such a sudden mishap. After a few minutes, he tried to get a hold of himself but failed. He continued to cry for the next 15 minutes. Everyone around him was silent and was just staring at him. The crowd gained normalcy when the next stop arrived and became busy jostling for space. I don’t know where he lives, rather how far he lives, but I wished he lived close by. I couldn’t even fathom how long this ordeal would continue. But unfortunately, he was still there when I got down from the train. We are so helpless. The same distance that is part of our daily dose of life becomes so unbearable at times. I didn’t know how far he had to travel and shuddered at the thought that his father might have been living in his home town, miles away from this city of opportunities.