The Hunger Games (otherwise known as my commute)

Commuting by metro is kind of like the hunger games (thanks Tracy!). Basically a fight to the death and you never know what to expect. You also have no real allies. Main difference? Rather than 24 young players, I am now one of the over 3 million Delhites that uses the Delhi metro daily.

My commute can basically be dived into 5 parts, and takes an hour in the morning.

Part 1: Racing out of the house (I’m running late, shocking), and walking to the metro, which takes about 5 minutes. Avoid getting hit by car, scooter, bike, person, etc. By the time I’ve reached the metro, climbed all the stairs up (my station is above ground), gone through the security check, and am waiting for the train, I am sweating. It doesn’t help that I am wearing a thick coat and shawl, which are necessary for part 5 (see below).

Part 2: First metro. I always try to go in the ladies only car—first car of every train. While the last 4-5 cars are crammed full of men who are jealous they don’t have their own special designated car, the ladies only car during rush hour (which lasts about 8-11am), is no picnic either. It is generally quite full, and people don’t move away from the door to let you in so you have to shove your way in, even if it isn’t completely full. I’ve become more confident at running at the train and jumping in even if it looks full and the doors are about to close.  Then I travel 5 stops t Rajiv Chowk (Connaught Place), the busiest station in Delhi.

Part 3: Rajiv Chowk: At the stop before this, people start crowding toward the doors in anticipation of the mad exit. At the station, fortunately there are people regulating the metros and rails with openings designating metro doors. Those wanting to board the metro sare crowded on either side of the doors, which the authorities yelling and blowing whistles, forcing them to leave an opening for those disembarking. When the doors finally open, you push and shove your way out of the metro. It is important to be off relatively soon, because those waiting to get on will eventually shove their way in, and I’ve seen people trying to get off that don’t make it do to the force shoving their way in. I’ve heard it said that you need ten human touches or contact a day to be a happy/health person. I am already set for the year, thank you very much Delhi Metro Transit.

After I am off the first metro train it is imperative to move as quickly as possible to get down to the lower platform to catch my next train, where I become part of the crowd trying to shove my way on.

Transferring has been accomplished in as little as 3-4 minutes, but can often take 10+ minutes. Once it took 20. Why, you might ask? A plethora of reasons.

First of all, about every third train is one compartment short. Rather than stopping at the same spot, it stops short, which forces all of the men waiting for the 2^nd compartment and the women waiting for the first compartment to have to migrate (stampede) down to get into the train. The authorities are pretty good about keeping men from boarding the women’s train, so it really is a mad dash. About half the people attempt the dash and the other half use this as an opportunity to get to the front of the ‘line’. My strategy in the beginning was the latter. However, this ill fated morning (when I wasn’t running late for once), there were a few short trains in a row, and then three times I attempted to get onto the normal train but wasn’t close enough to the front to fit (and trust me, I tried—mostly just by being pushed forward by those pushing behind me.

So after the third time, when I clearly am now going to be late for work I decide to try the short train strategy, and go and wait in between the women’s line and the men’s, and lo and behold the next train is a short one, and I run for it and get on (very helpful that the authority guy is blowing his whistle and forcing the men to part the sea and allow women to board. Since then, this has been my strategy and it is working well.

Part 4: Once on this train, I have 9 stops to go to my station, Haus Khaz. As you might guess given the rush to get on, the train is absolutely packed. In fact, I have no discovered that I no longer think of the train as crowded unless I am being pressed against on all sides. If I’m mostly untouched, not so bad!  I have not once gotten a seat on my commute, except for the time I ran for it and ended up in a regular compartment and then men let me sit down. After a few stops we reach another transfer station where most of the crowd gets off, so it’s not so bad after that. I have even begun to not notice the crowd so much and have taken to reading books during my commute.

Party 5: Auto-rickshaw. Once I get off the metro, I have to still go quickly, as I need to get an auto, and want to beat the crowd to make sure I get one right away. Usually not a problem, as they are generally waiting at the top of the metro and approach you. Thus the haggling begins. I know how to say in Hindi where I want to go and how much I want to pay. I’ve all but once gotten my price, and have now mastered the literally 1 left turn it takes to get from the metro to the office. I’ve even learned which way to not go (alternate route), because it has a right turn, and keeps you waiting at a light, and generally with my luck, behind a bus breathing in the fumes for 5 minutes.

The auto ride takes about 10 minutes and is quite breezy—hence the thick jacket and shawl for my head—keeps my hair in place and me from breathing in all of the pollution. Once however, on another day where I was going to actually be early, I got an auto driver who either didn’t like breeze or maybe the auto had seen better days, and it took us 20 minutes, plus he went the alternate route way and I was late and smelled like bus exhaust. But my hair was in perfect shape so that was a plus. 

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Evening commute: Reverse these steps, except that the office driver often drops us at the metro, which is a plus because the traffic is such it takes about 20+ minutes to get to the metro, which makes my final commute about 1 hour 15 minutes, and I usually get home about 7:15/7:30. Quite a change from my days on the 48! (or let’s be honest, getting late and driving in).