When my office was in Marol, commute was tough. At times, I would wait for over an hour and a half and not get an autorickshaw. Often, buses would be crowded. Cabs would be too costly. No one was carpooling and I wasn't friends with anyone who could drive. There was no Ola or Uber. So I would often walk home from Marol Naaka to Ambedkar Road, Bandra West.
It was a long walk and during rains, it was especially treacherous with open drains, potholes, etc.
Still, the toughest part about that journey was crossing the road to get to the other side. Cars would not stop or even slow down. There was no cop and the red light didn't really matter. So I would wait there, on the side. A crowd would form. A gathering of a motley group with assorted footwear (heels, slippers, Oxfords, sneakers, etc.), different types of clothes (snug skirts, low-rise jeans, rayon trousers beginning at the chest, tees, blouses, etc.), and different types of strides (long, sideways, teeny tiny advancements, etc.) All of us would wait and suddenly, we would all move in the face of ongoing traffic and hefty danger from speeding cars. It's impossible to know who moved first, who took the risk first...but someone did and collectively, it seemed as if we would float across to the safety of the other side.
So many times, I would think of that as a mundane miracle happening every single time a crowd reached a tipping point. As fascinating as it was to be part of it, it was equally surreal to watch it from a height. We could see this precise traffic spot from high up and it would feel like a symphony...that at a specific moment, this crowd, like a note, would rise, float across, subside and dissipate.
Strange...the things one remembers.
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