I lived quite a sheltered life up until the age of 16. Whenever we took cabs when I was younger I’d beg my mother to take an auto instead-something about it felt so surreal to me. I liked feeling the wind on my face, regardless of how dirty my hair got in the process. When I finally started going around on my own, autos were the most budget-friendly option. I’d have a process that I had to go through before getting in an auto, to “preserve” myself in a sense. Hair pulled back into a tight bun with two clips on either side to keep my bangs out of the way. More and more hair would slowly get clipped back as the wind blew hair out of my bun.The dirt sticks to your skin, if you’d rub your hands together it feels like a mix of stick, sweat and dirt particles. A second skin that I would not let a single soul touch my face with.Â
Before coming to college, how we’d travel around in the middle of nowhere made no sense to me. Even going to Chennai was done in the comfort of my friends’ cars who lived in the city. Everyone else here knew where to go, what train to catch, what timings made sense but we were clueless. We all agreed that we shouldn’t use their cars to travel to Chennai anymore. The first time I went on the Chennai local train, no one I knew had faith in my friend and I to make it to the city in one piece. One of my friends didn’t trust us at all to the extent that he made sure a guy was present to take us to the station and come on the train with us. We sat in the ladies compartment.Â
The first thing you notice about a new place is always going to be the people. Seeing someone’s side profile for an hour and a half on end brings your attention to specific parts of their face – like their ears. Every woman I saw that was over 40, had temple jewellery adorning her ears, huge cuffs at the top and an attached chain dropping down to her ear lobe with polki jhumki hanging down. Not all of them were that elaborate, some had simpler earrings. It seemed like a rule of thumb to either have multiple piercings or large earrings, or both.Â
There was a baby in front of us seated on his grandmother’s lap. He was holding a red, barely blown balloon that he kept dropping and making his grandmother pick up. She never got irritated with him at that. The only time she told him off was when I picked the balloon up instead of her, like it was an inconvenience to me. When it was made clear to her that we didn’t have a problem, she let him play with us.
Sometimes I like to stand at the entrance of each train car while it’s moving. I like feeling the wind on my face, regardless of how dirty my hair gets in the process. I still keep it clipped and tied up.