IMpressions of a city

IMpressions of a city

Seeking to secure my base in the national capital, i decided to reach out to Nizamuddin Station the other day. It was a day when post infusion of energy drinks made possile by intrusive character of repeatedly appearing in tv and print saw commoner like me take a bus from Jhandu Singh Marg. It was at Medical which is witness to appearance of all shape-and-size vehicle that i could summon the courage to finaly take a bus that would take me to Sarai Kale Khan. INstead of turning left it headed towards Noida and i deboarded in time to take a third public transport that took me to Sarai Kale Khan to have the desired Railway Station blast.
With Sarai Kale Khan bus depot playng host to buses from different destinations i could sight among them one bus heading twards Taj Depot in UP. THe walk towards the railway station mirrored the little and yet noticeable city life where cheek by jowl premises have an infusive life of their own.
With platform ticket in hand i was amidst a tribe split among those out to board trains and those who deboarded. PLatform 1 saw senior station manager office; a new structure probably replacing a food joint. At the reservation building those willing to revolt was no less as the crowd assembled there to seek tickets had gone past the sheltered building and storing every possibility to hit the road. With no declaration hoarding that spelled the trains that originated and enlightened from Nizamuddin the best course was to leave the reservation blues for other day.
Out again amidtst the commuting traffic i boarded one blueline which had no back support to a seat i wished to occupy. One heavy man was seen in ruminating mood on a seat with enough backsupport and later the discovery doled out details of he being the blueline driver. Left the blueline bus and took the favourite DTC only to be told the one going in the vicinity of munirka would be 417.
Post 417 boarding and a seat secured the bus was running to its capacity as it left the Nizamuddin area. Perhaps the stretch through Geetanjali Marg was time-cosuming as unsettled roads settled to a reality where vehicles of different hues skirt different challenges to rediscover themselves. On hoarding read "PG Accommodation for those willing to be boys, PG Accommodation for those willing to be girls". Others had signboard on beauty salon and gym. None could find them tempting enough to step inside as more were finding it a big lure to board a bus. Goverment Buses built on a premise that people with different and dissecting mental faculties board them have these clinically clutter-free instructions on seats meant for ladies and aged and the bus movement is clinically tied to the doors remaining shut.
AS the bus went past Qutab Minar i, for one, began to believe the Qutab's ascendancy would accentuate my link to munirka. INstead of munirka i was in mehrauli and this was more to do with not seeking a second opinion on 417.