Local Trains are as mandatory as wearing clothes. Well, the only difference is I change locals more frequently. Hopping from Western line to Central line. From Harbour to Western to south eastern, northern. My compass just stopped functioning. We all sweat when subjected to intense situations. We sweat basically. Sweating is human nature. It oozes out all that is stagnant and dying.

I met a few aliens. Sweaty aliens. All human beings are aliens until we get to know them completely.

PART 1 – EUNUCHS IN THE TRAIN

I am not discriminating against them. But, well..

(Standing in the train. Sweaty bodies all around. Standing in positions even Baba Ramdev can’t think of)

(A eunuch enters)

Eunuch : ey! lalla! de naa!

Me : Arrey! kuchh nahi hai!

Eunuch: De na! (starts getting a little touchy)

Me: Nahi hai! kidhar se doon? (gets a little scared)

Eununch: Main bataun kidhar se dena hai?

Me: (stays silent) (a little scared again)

Eununch : (pulls my cheeks)

Me : Ye lo (F.U.C.K! Gets shit scared. Takes out a 5 rs coin. Hands it over quickly to him/her)

Eunuch: You naughty boy! na na na!

Me : (gets shit scared again)

Eununch : na na na!

Me : (gets shit scared again)

FART 2 : OOPS. PART 2
Railways had earlier imposed a fine on farting in a crowded local train. But unfortunately, these hideous criminals still thrive in the local trains freely. You might be sitting on one of those seats. You might consider yourself lucky enough to have survived through this stiff competition. A seat in the local train. Such a prized possession.

Think again? Scan through the person standing right in front of you. With his buttocks right in your face, you are susceptible to heat stroke. If Saudi Arabia is progressing because of Gas. India should’ve been the number one economy in the world. Courtesy Mooli ka paratha. Seat. Such a prized possession. It might just backfire. Literally, ‘BACK’ ‘FIRE’..BHOOOM!

Wear masks in local trains. Stay safe and healthy. Uh? Not Swine Flu. Well, gas. *burps* *farts* *sprays a deo*

PART 3: THE SALMAN KHAN FANATICS

They roam around in the streets singing – My amma says you love me, your appa says you love me..love me baby love me. They eat Saniya Bhabi pan masala and spit it out of the train’s window. They did not like Kites though. Barbara More, looked like the wife of Jairam More from Shingnapur.
They have enough oil in their hair to fry chicken kebabs or potato wafers. And Chameli ka tel would definitely ensure that you suffer from a nostril attack.
I could have continued. But I would like to end it here. The train has reached its last stop.

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