You haven't truly experienced India until you've taken a commuter train. There are no reserved seats, there are no limitations to how many can fit on a seat, and the bathrooms? Well, unless you are skilled at relieving yourself through a small hole in the ground as pebbles, dust and other debris comes flying up at you, let me suggest you refrain from eating or drinking a day before you take the train.
While the "rule" is to always let women go first (meaning, as a woman you can actually cut to the front of the line), the rule doesn't apply to train travel. As soon as the train is seen coming in to the station, men, women, children start to run alongside, grabbing on to the bars and swinging their bodies on board. It is like watching Spiderman training. The theory behind the grand grab is if you are not on first, you won't get a seat. I didn't know this is how it worked. So I waited. Amazingly, the door stopped right in front of me. What a stroke of luck! I couldn't have been more wrong. The ensuing mass of people crushed me towards the train; squeezing me against the people who were trying to exit. It was a stalemate, until I realized I was starting to levitate. I looked around and began to see the crowd below me. All I could see was the torso and legs of a woman directly behind me. I didn't know if she was an old or young woman. I don't know whether she was fat or thin. All I knew was a headless woman had hoisted me on her shoulders to get me out of the way and on board more quickly. Once on board, the continuing crush of people pushed me towards a seat. The best analogy I can think to give is imagine you are swimming in the ocean and you've just gotten tagged by a wave. Instead of fighting it, you have to let it bang you around, drag you down to the ground, and trust that it will eventually release you. You might have pounds of sand in your bathing suit, but at least you made it. This is what getting on board a commuter train was like. Minus the sand in my pants.
