The journey back home begins with a sigh of fulfillment followed by a thought of determination. Armed with the metro card which brings me immense convenience, I walk briskly and quickly from the college to the metro station, eager to reach the comfort of my home, to my lovely mother and her delicious and nutritious food, to my cute dog which demands pets, to my bed which seems to call me with great appeal.
Although the destination is fated and the end always provides huge relief, it is not without obstacles and temptations. The surroundings also provide amusement.
Ignoring the appetising aroma of the bhel puri, momo, and ice cream and refusing to join in with the crowds relishing in their taste, I walk further to climb the stairs in a little effort to maintain my fitness. Quickly taking my bottle out of my bag before putting it through the security scan, and getting scanned myself, I head upstairs, wondering whether the sound of the metro is the one I have to sit in or of the opposite route.
I climb up and check how much time is left for the train to arrive, or if I'm lucky, walk quickly into the doors of the open metro train.
In the metro, the announcements echo of train stations, charger ports, telling to beware of pickpockets, not to litter, and warnings about unattended objects that could be a bomb. More than that what catches my attention more are the various people in the train, their unique appearances and conversations. Though I have to admit, I sometimes get a little annoyed by the loud, noisy, and chaotic children that enter often at the station which is right in front of a school.
After that, it's a quick and swift ride down the stairs where the collective sounds of e-rickshaw drivers yelling their route fall upon the ears.
It doesn't take too long before I'm surrounded by the drivers, asking where I'm headed. I tell them and am quickly seated in one of the tens of colourful e rickshaws. If the weather is pretty bad, or I just happen to be tired, I book it to take me to my house, although that option costs me 5 times the usual fare.
In the e-rickshaw it's quite a bumpy ride. It's no wonder roller coasters aren't popular in India, when millions of people experience something similar on a daily basis. I quietly take out the fare from my wallet, checking if the driver has an upi id just in case.
If the e-rickshaw doesn't drop me home, I now have to walk almost half a kilometre. Half of that is a normal road, and the other half is inside my gated residential colony. The first half is often characterised by cows, children playing, and strangely enough, sometimes tractors.
The second half is when I climb the ramps of various houses not only because it is simply fun, but also because they're technically part of the footpath. I see the plants and the trees, the cute street dogs, various people again. Often a thought crosses my mind that there are so many more vehicles and people here now than when we first moved in, a mere 7 years ago.
After some time I ring the bells and enter my home. The journey has ended. The destination has been reached.
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