Don't Panic!

"It is said that despite its many glaring (and occasionally fatal) inaccuracies, the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy itself has outsold the Encyclopedia Galactica because it is slightly cheaper, and because it has the words "DON'T PANIC" in large, friendly letters on the cover." - from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

9:38 am... A week day. I am on my way to the office.

I am running late. ("running" being the word that would best describe the activity I am trying to do at that very moment)

I have to catch the 9:43 Andheri Local. Sweating, panting, with limbs aching from exertion they are not used to, I reach the railway station only to realize that I just missed my Andheri train. How bloody consistent. The indicator says the next train is 9:50 Churchgate (Slow). I have to catch this one. Otherwise I will be late for sure. 

I scramble up the escalator, running up the ascending stairs past other passengers (for once the escalator isn't blocked). I dash across the foot-over bridge, as fast as my typical couch-potato-figured torso will allow. And try to descend with paramount haste, the staircase which would lead me to my destination platform. The railway station is undergoing renovation, and one of the staircases has been blocked. So everyone has to use this single staircase. People are ascending from one side, descending from the other. There is bottle-neck at both the ends of the staircase... I curse the railway authorities as I am forced to tread slowly, caught in the throng of people descending in a single file... Every other second I am watching for any signs of the oncoming train...

Finally I reach the platform before the train does... A big WHEW (in caps and bold and italic too)

Spectacles, mobile phone and wallet safely tucked away in the shoulder bag, I await the train... As the train arrives, my body goes rigid. I travel by train everyday. And yet, every time I see the crowd of passengers hanging out the doors, a sudden inexplicable panic grabs hold of me. The fact that I have to get in, at one side of the compartment (the portside, if I could borrow the nautical term), and get down at the other side (the starboard side) in Andheri, all within a span of 7-10 minutes, does not give me any comfort. Instead it adds to my already mounting panic.

As the train slows down, the people hanging at the door start jumping out. By the time the train has stopped, we rush to the door. Very few people (comparatively speaking) get down here. Thus there is very little space to accommodate the many passengers like me who are about to board the train. I rush along with all the herd, and get in (another big WHEW!). And stop right there...

The train is already crammed with so many couch potatoes and their sacks, just like me. And we are all stuck somewhere near the portside door of the compartment where we got in. As is usually my custom, I ask the guy right in front of me whether he is going to get down at Andheri. But unlike most other times, the guy says No. My panic rides up another notch. I ask him to give me some space so I can crawl ahead. He shifts a little. I push a little. But the train's too crowded. I can hardly manage any headway. Then I ask another person ahead and to the right of me. He has headphones stuffed up his damned ears. I ask him multiple times, but I might as well be asking a mannequin. 

Now my panic is threatening to burst out the compartment ceiling... What if these two idiots in front of me don't move and I am unable to get down? There are people behind me asking (at the top of their voices I might add) whether I would be getting down at Andheri. Their panic adds to mine... I start struggling to find some leeway to move ahead... A tiny inch here, a little gap there... But to no avail... I turn this way, then I turn that. My bulky sack slung over each shoulder and perched ahead of me like a Baby Carrier isn't helping my struggle at all. One of the two idiots (the one not impaired by the headphones on his ears) starts grumbling. But I would not have it. My panic would not allow me to rest...

Finally someone behind me starts yelling at me to stop struggling. I turn around. My panic is about to give way to read-hot anger. But the guy has softened his voice and is now trying to convince me that struggling will not help me at all. Lot of people will get down at Andheri. If anyone comes in between, we will all push him and make way to get down at the station. Not to worry. I am tempted to turn back and answer him that it is not just for my benefit, but for theirs too, that I am going to all this trouble... But I let it pass. What's the use? Instead I just let go of all my steam... Just like that... Like someone deflated  a balloon that was me. I go slack. I loosen my hold on the hand-bars. My breathing slows down a little... It takes some time for my anger to simmer down. And with it, my panic too...

And sure enough, with quite a bit of struggle, a big push here, a huge shove there, panting, grunting, sweating and swearing, I do manage to get down at Andheri railway station... A huge WHEW!...

As I walk towards the Bus stop, I mull over my lesson learned today... Panic is inevitable in everyday pressures. Worries about bad things that may happen add to it. But giving in to panic does not help in any way. I remember what Mark Twain had once said: "I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened". What a truly perceptive observation. An how aptly it related to my situation today... Then and there I decided that I would learn how to stop worrying and start living, even if I never get a chance to read the book by Dale Carnegie...

With this little nugget of wisdom, I make my way towards the bus stop. I can see the bus standing there. Everyone has already boarded it. Its about to move. Can't let that happen! What if the next bus comes in late? Can't afford to miss this bus. As the bus begins to leave the stop, with mounting panic, I start running...