The Happiest Day of My 'Career'

And you thought that the project was over! Well for me, yes but for you (if you care to read in the first place) it's not gonna end so soon. Because there are still a lot of experiences stored in my memory (surprising indeed!) and many more written in my little diary that I would like to share here.

But today, after a long long time (12 days to be precise) I would like to share a good news. In fact, I can easily anoint 12th Dec as the happiest day of my entire Ricikshaw-walla life, if not the entire life. I also realized that one must not give up the pursuit of happiness because some things have a habit of giving you a delayed gratification - in my case, the delay was by 12 days. And I was lucky to get it only when I egged on it.

I don't know how many times I have mentioned in my blogposts about the utter chaos one witnesses at the Vishwavidhyalaya Metro Station. Its an ideal place to make the worst opinion about a rickshaw-walla which sticks with you for a lifetime, tough to be overridden by any pleasant experience subsequently.

Ironically none of my rickshaw-friends like it, nor want to do this "aao-ji aao-ji" ritual but collectively they all are involved in it. Its like the current scenario of Indian Media. Ask any individual Media house about their  views on Paid News, Private treaties, Advertorials, Blackmailing, Editorial bias etc and they all banish it in the harshest possible manner but then it's also a mystery how a minister gets favorable coverage in Newspapers and TV channels before a major election despite embroiled in half a dozen corruption cases if not murder and rape, how some very pressing issues are suppressed while most other never make it to main-stream media!

As an ex-rickshaw-walla, I was catching up with all my friends and colleagues at my favorite adda - Gwyer Hall Hostel when this gentleman came. Its a shame that I don't know his name but taking into account his seniority and the profound knowledge, wisdom and experience he has, the name that comes to my mind is "Bhishma Pitamah". So let me call him Bhishma sir! :)

He enlightened me on the freak accident that happened two days back with a DU girl sitting in a rickshaw and the huge fuss in the morning between a Traffic Cop and the Metro Security Guard at the Station. But we soon digressed to our pet peeve - falling income and 'rule of the Jungle' at the Metro Station.

Its not that nothing has ever been done to bring some order among rickshaw pullers. Can't say much about the measures taken since the inception but a lot of attempts have been made during my own 'tenure'- by metro security guards, by traffic cops, by local Police (and once by me as well). But the status quo never changed and even if it did for a while under the force of a 'danda', it quickly regained its dubious equilibrium.

But today was a different day. There was no external force but and internal resolve to change. Championed by one of their own men - very sensible and highly respected! My presence, probably acted as a catalyst (if anything at all) for this 'endothermic' reaction. An endothermic reaction consumes heat and cools down its surrounding!

One of the most prominent feature (if not a cornerstone) of Democracy is - equal opportunity for everyone to do or aspire anything. In this respect, Metro station is not a very democratic place. The Campus-special buses are the first among equals. The entire width of the exit gate is panned by the bus while the rickshaws are relegated far away from the gates whenever line system is cracked down with brute force. Otherwise the rickshaws are simply juxtaposed with the buses creating the much-talked-about chaos and leaving almost no space for a person to go across the road.

So once 'Bhishma' sir sold the idea to his colleagues and got them on-board I went ahead and talked with the Bus Driver. It was one of the most sensible talks I ever had with a bus driver. We hardly disagreed with each other's opinions. He welcomed the idea of a disciplined line and agreed "in-principle" to my request to halt the bus only till middle of the exit gate and leaving the other half free for people. The deal was sealed when the Manger of this Special Bus service also agreed over the phone to my request! I gave a personal guarantee that the extra space thus created wont be cluttered by more rickshaws bringing everything back to square one.

The rickshaw line started from the other end of the gate giving them a fighting chance to be spotted along with the Bus and the Auto the moment a person comes out of the gate. Now it's the person's prerogative which one does he chooses. An equal opportunity to all.

The metro security guard also volunteered to assist in the implementation of the newly conceptualized discipline. He monitored that the proper sequence is followed, the free space remains free and nobody enters the metro station to woo a customer leaving his rickshaw unmanned.

It was going great. The rickshaw-wallas were happy because they were getting customers without belittling themselves, the bus-wallas weren't complaining either and the people were smiling too because nobody was pouncing on them. Everybody had a last laugh! :)

But is that sufficient reason for me to call it the happiest day? NO.

The reason why it's the happiest day is - the experiment survived the test of the time! It came into existence at around 3 PM. But when I returned to the Metro station at around 6 PM, the system was still in place WITHOUT THE SUPERVISION OF THE GUARD! 3 hrs might not see long enough to you but trust me, it takes them just 3 seconds to return to their old ways. After all, that's their comfort zone! But everybody was still following the line and peacefully taking 'sawaris' as per their order.

This was unprecedented. A truly WOW moment for me. And that's why it's the happiest day of my entire rickshaw-walla career. A long cherished happiness which came long after my "retirement" !

The Final Day (hopefully not!)

Justin Timberlake's famous song from the album "Future Sex" - what goes around...comes around - is playing in my head right now which is occasionally shuffled with an equally awesome "Life in a Metro" song - Alvida.

Because, if everything goes according to the plan and promise, 30th November should be my last day of being a Rickshaw-walla! Its a very emotional moment in many respects and as it happens with most of the things in life, the wave of emotions are often very weak on the 'D day' but hit much harder and make you nostalgic long after the day has gone.

The only silver lining is that I am a horrible planner but the dark cloud is that I am not a good ditcher! I promised my mom on the day of my homecoming (21 Nov) that I will end this project by November end and now it would be very difficult to give up on her. I guess I need to talk about my plans with my parents. If they understand, I hope to write a similar blogpost without the bracketed words on the new year day. Inshallah!

Its very easy to tender resignation for a job which you do only for money, a job in which you complain burnouts despite sitting in an AC chamber the entire day, a job in which you celebrate weekends more than weekdays ... oh wait, i guess it's not easy, else 90% of India (if not world) would be jobless!

But its very hard to bid adieu a job which you took up because you wanted to do it. Where there was no external pressure but internal motivation. Where you even worked on Diwali because that's the best way you could find to celebrate the festival of lights!

Just like Diwali, I tried to make my final day special in all possible ways and to the extent my job allowed. Which means I couldn't hug or at least thank from the bottom of my heart each an every rickshaw-friend of mine for giving me these awesome three month because it would seem so weird. But I did make it a point to meet as many of my friends as possible and shake hands with them or at least do that patented salute - raising the right hand partially with a gentle nod of the head and ear-to-ear smile - from a distance while crisscrossing each-other while pulling the rickshaw.

I tried to reach early. This is exams season in DU, and the exams start by 9:30. Hence there is a mad rush of students from 8:45 to 9:15. I arrived at the metro station at 9 AM - like a drop in the ocean of students. But by the time I reached the garage, picked my rickshaw and reached the station again, it was 9:25 already. The ocean had dried up. The Metro station is very unforgiving - if you are late you are late. Aren't there pleasant ways to learn lessons on punctuality?

There was an Indo-German conference on semiconductors going on in 'Faculty of Arts'! Goes without saying that I wanted to attend it despite the grave risk involved of dying due to boredom! The security guard of Arts Faculty has some special regards for me so when he saw me, he shook hands with me, talked for a while and asked me to park my rickshaw in the vacant space next to the main gate. Of course it's not allowed. So I asked him, "would this put you in trouble?" To which he replied quirkily, "I will sort it out. If somebody will object, I will say, 'sahab aaye hain seminar attend karne'! (A gentleman has come to attend the seminar!)

Hours passed by. Light gave way to darkness and warmth gave in to unfriendly cold. My friends who still pull rickshaw in a shirt start feeling the chill by 5ish in the evening; more if they have to wait for a sawari because standing idle cools them down further. But something warm was also brewing alongside - a plan to celebrate my last day !

My best friend, Sanjay, knew that it was probably my last day, and hence readily agreed to this impromptu party plan. But before we could crystallize it, he had to leave for Indira Vihar (girls Hostel canteen) with a box of oranges for a meager sum of 30 Rupees. I was so infuriated that I thought I would slap that 'Honda city b**tard' for paying so low and Sanjay as well for accepting that money. He deserved Rs 50!

In the meantime I talked with Tomas - an exchange student from France, once my sawari and now a very good friend. It didn't took him long to offer me a beer when he learned that it was my last day. His hostel-mate Kishan from Bangladesh also joined us and an awesome 'threesome' was on!

But Sanjay hadn't dropped the plan and neither had I. So like a witch hopping clubs on Halloween night, I was hopping my own farewell parties on my last working day! But I wasn't complaining. I reached my friend's 'villa' at around 9 PM and he was already done with cooking rice. I must tell you that he is a very nice cook. Once I even asked him why doesn't he work in one of the hostel messes and he said, "the life there is very restricted, much like a prisoner!" Wow, I never thought rickshaw-pulling had that huge an advantage over a regular job. 'Freedom to work' should be made a fundamental right, I guess!

Not prolonging the climax further, I should tell you that we bought 1kg fish and had a sumptuous dinner. I simply love fish and to have it on my last day with my special rickshaw-friends was certainly a memorable experience.

Talking of climax, I recall that there are few condoms available in the market that come with the promise of giving you 'extra time'. I wonder if there is something available out there for me to prolong this 'climax' and give me some extra time!

The Epic Speech

Today, in the evening few DU students came to conduct a survey on Rickshaw-wallas. They claimed to be doing it on behalf of Govt. of India! This exercise was part of their project at the end of which they would send their recommendations based on which the government will make welfare policies for us. Wow, finally the government talking some cognizance of the Rickshaw-wallas. Sounds so Utopian!

But this is just a frivolous introduction, the real stuff is the speech of this legendary rickshaw-walla whose name I don't know.

The ritual of form-filling was going on at its full swing when I reached the Metro station. I had no idea and hence I asked, "what's going on?" and what followed was this epic speech. He said -

It's some kind of a survey. What survey man... it's yet another attempt of the government to rob us poor of our livelihood (gareeb ke pet par laat). These people promise us a parking lot. hah... they will give us a parking lot! Bullsh*t. A similar survey was conducted a few years back promising us the world, they started the Campus-Special Bus instead! This time around, they would probably start Helicopters!

(Unlike U-special buses which ply on specific routes, the Campus-special is a circular bus service from Vishwavidyalaya Metro Station touching most of the colleges. It charges a flat fare of Rs 10 for any destination. It came into existence approximately 2 years back and has considerably eaten up the earnings of a rickshaw-walla)

They ask us how much do we earn. Now if we tell them honestly that we earn around Rs 400, the govt's eyes will go wide immediately. *a rickshaw-walla earns so much in a day* instead of doing something for us, the first thing they will do is "how to stop them from earning a respectable income, how to keep them in perennial poverty."

Aisa kyun? (The honesty and conviction with which he asked me that question was quite moving and that's why I put the words as it is instead of translating them. It means - why is it so?)

What have they got against a rickshaw-walla? Are we stealing or robbing somebody? Is earning an honest living a crime? This metro security guard beats us up?
Aisa kyun hota hai?

A man (i guess he said FAT!) gets down from the bus and screams "oye rickshaw" and the rickshaw-walla takes him on board. A bus drops him on the bus stand, Metro drops him at the Metro station but where does a rickshaw drops him? ... on the stairs of his house. If there were a way to take rickshaw from his stairs to his room, a rickshaw might well have dropped him on his bed! and yet people abuse a rickshaw-walla?
Kyun bhai?

When a person bleeds on the road, a car doesn't stop to help him. You call just once to a rickshaw-walla and he takes that guy to Hindu Rao Hospital (the nearest govt. hospital of that area). He doesn't charge you a fortune, even in case of extreme emergencies. He saves lives. And yet people have least amount of respect for us!
Aisa kyun?

He took a long pause when another colleague snapped, "ho gaya?" while pressing a button of his mobile phone. He was apparently recording his speech! Worth recording indeed. Everybody burst into laughter.

You know what I want to ask the government? I want to ask, "why this distance sir? why this indirect path?" Survey...delay...recommendations....more delay... committees formed....eternal delay.
You hold MCD elections, you hold Assembly elections, for what? If you really care, just send down that representative to listen to us. We will not only let him know our ailment but the medicine to cure it as well. We don't expect to get the exact dosage but the suffering would certainly subside even if half of the prescription is met.

But please don't pull this wool of survey over our eyes.

The Homecoming of a Rickshaw-walla!

Who says courts only prolong matters? Sometimes, they expedite them as well although these are "Rarest of the rare" occasions!

Today I had to go against my will to Dwarka distt. courts as part of a family land-dispute case (dont worry I havn't filed a case against my dad for my share! :P ). I have realized that courts are like your best friends. They don't give a s**t when you are hanging around with them but they miss you a lot when you are not not there. So much so that they issue warrants, sometimes non-bailable, to fetch you!

At 10AM I was at the court where I came face to face with my mom - first time since the news broke of me being a rickshaw-walla 4 days ago.
She asked me to explain. I declined (as I believed there was nothing to explain beyond the Navbharat Times news-report.
She persisted with some emotional-atyaachaar (main teri maa hoon, agar mujhe nahin samjhaayega to kise samjhaayega? et al)
I tried to explain. she didn't understand... once...twice. I gave up.
She asked me to explain once more - my motive, my objective, my aspirations.
I tried again. finally some ice was broken, some dark clouds were scattered.
it turned out that she was particularly miffed for two reasons -
1) she didn't know until when this 'experiment' will continue. the report didn't mention that "I hope to end it by November"!
2) the report mentioned "Girls in DU ask me that I don't look like a rickshaw-walla", alluding as if only girls ask me that ...further alluding that I am doing it to score some brownie points with girls ! ;)

The court hearing was over with the usual practice of giving another date and my mom said, "tu ek baar aa to sahi ghar" (which sent chill down my spine). I asked her to explain what she meant. She didn't.

Interestingly, my Dad was quite chilled out all this while, In fact, he hasn't even once asked me what the F*** I was doing and why. While returning from court my mom noticed my cracked heels n lumped feet and said to my dad "look what he has done to his feet" and he said, "so what?" ! hahhaha... that was awesome! I guess I should gift him a bottle of Heinekin ! ;)

Nevertheless, I picked my cycle (whom I missed the most) from the parking of the metro station and went home. I wasn't asked any further question, not locked up in a dark room nor thrashed with a wet chappal ! :P
On the contrary, I was give a sumptuous lunch! for someone who had to borrow money this morning to buy even a Parle G (not exaggerating even an iota), that was pure bliss. The party didn't end there.

I slept for three hours (although I intend to sleep only 30 minutes!) in a cushy bed, with a soft furry blanket and a pillow... yes, a pillow and not my bag stuffed with worn clothes! trust me, a pillow is a luxury. Infact, planning commission would come up with far saner policies based on "Pillow-line" rather than poverty line!

I was home and I was doing what I do best - screw up my time on Facebook! also, read random stuff online and occasionally write a blog. I was back to the world to which I had practically said goodbye for good. In fact, I made some initial investments (which swallowed all my savings) for my new life - a towel (Rs 40), a tooth brush (11), a toothpaste (10), a soap (10), washing powder sachet (2), and a makeup kit (Rs 5 vaseline!). In the coming days, I was planning to buy some Lux Cozis (or even anonymous ones from the roadside vendor) instead of Jockeys and that was cringing my heart (and something else as well!) the most!

I was also preparing myself to bathe with ultra-cold water for the rest of the winters. (although not bathing for most of the season was a partial solution). In fact, I never knew I was such a meticulous planner before these three & a half days. I was making lists, balancing my needs (not wants) with my resources. I was planning ahead...weeks ahead. Although, all the three days I ended up a nillionaire !

Sadly, all that futuristic planning has now gone down the drain. I am back to my home. a place which looks too plush to me now. 3 months back, I would have made a million excuses to dissuade you from visiting it!

So, it was the homecoming of a rickshaw-walla after only 3 & a 1/2 days of 'Vanvaas' (or RainBsera Vaas as my friend puts it)! Should we light some lamps or burn some firecrackers to celebrate? Naah, chuck it. Lets go green! ;)

Being a "Celebrity" - effects & side-effects

the Internet charges are too steep here so I have to write it quickly, So apologies for some not-up-to-the-mark blogpost this time. (As if I was writing literary masterpieces earlier!)

I was in Chandigarh when I received the call from my Mom with the opening words, "Chandigarh main bhi rickshaw chala raha hai?". I couldn't say anything, I was just laughing. But she wasn't amused at all. She followed it up with "Achi bhat piti hai hamari". I dont know how to translate those words but a close-enough meaning is - "you have demeaned us to no extent". I wasn't surprised though; the blast was impending. 

But her call was quite late in the evening, the string of calls started right in the morning. With every call I was faced with the dilemma - to pick or not to pick ... cuz I was in Roaming and my balance was low ! But I guess price of coming out as arrogant was higher that the price of the call, so I picked.

I was back in Delhi the next morning at 6:30 and I was on the job at 7:30. on other days, I would have earned handsomely if I had come that early but alas.... it was Sunday that day!

I was on my way to the garage, barely outside the Metro station, when I noticed a beautiful girl staring at me! If the matter was restricted to just staring, I might not have noticed... I look weird enough to be stared! But she was smiling too; that was startling! So I asked her, "do we know each other?" and she said, "I read the article about you in NBT". She introduced herself and when I introduced myself, she said, "I know"!!!!

Wherever I went - the garage, the metro station,Kamla Nagar, Girls Hostel, Stephens college gate, Gwyer Hall Canteen, Ande-walla ...... the article followed. If nothing else, I realized the readership of NBT yesterday!

But I was in no mood to go home that day, courtesy that candid talk with my mom yesterday. So I was desperately searching for a place to stay. My friend at Model town was out of station and my current garage wasn't as cozy as my previous one, so sleeping under the sky wasn't an option.

I once saw a "Rainbasera" (a place where destitutes can stay at nominal price) in Kamla Nagar but was utterly dissapointed to see a big lock on its gate. But from there I came to know about another one in Malkaganj. The information was right and in Kabir Basti, Malkaganj, I did find one.

Afte spotting my refuge, I was going back to my garage to park my rickshaw when I spotted a little boy walking beside me with a piece of paper. He said, "I am reading about you". I was able to make sense of what he was saying when looked at the paper-cutting with my photo. It was simply an awesome feeling. I asked the boy to sit in my rickshaw and read the story for me since I hadn't seen it myself. He read it for a while and then got off the rickshaw bidding adieu. Wow, if start of the day was bright, then the end of the day was probably brighter than Diwali!

The Experience of spending a night at "Raibasera" is a story in itself so I shall share that with you in a separate post.

but the next morning (ie today) I got a call from my mom again. She asked my location .... exact location (I am not sure if she could track me via GPS!).

"Hindu College"

"you are still pulling the rickshaw!"

"yes mom, that's what I do, I am sure u know it by now"

"why? couldn't you find any other job"

"if you are still not clear why I am doing this after reading that article, I don't know how to answer your why"

"us article se to tune hamara mazak banaya hai" (you have only humiliated us through that article)

I am totally disillusioned now. Facing a dilemma again - to return or not return to a place where people feel humiliated because of me.

Rickshey-waley Dulhaniya le jayenge?

While you might accuse me of Plagiarism because this story appears to be a rip-off straight from Bollywood (who rips off Bollywood stories anyways?), let me assure you that it's neither a rip-off nor a fiction. However, to pay tribute to Mr Yash Chopra, the man who gave us DDLJ, I names it so.

The name of the protagonist of this Love story is Krishna - a 32 year old dark, short but well-built Bengali guy, my colleague and a good friend. Before coming to Delhi in search of employment and end up pulling rickshaw, he used to live in his village in the Kooch Behar district in West Bengal.

The mythological god - Krishna was a Butter-thief (Maakhan chor) in his childhood. But apart from butter, Lord Krishna used to steal one more thing - the tender hearts of gullible, doting 'gopis'. Our hero seems to have taken some inspiration from the 'god' on this front as well (apart from his name and colour!)

Although his village was predominantly Hindu, but just to complicate the matters a bit, the "most beautiful girl" of the village didn't belong to the majority religion. She was a Muslim. Her's was one of the 3 Muslim families in the entire village. Amidst frenzied whistling and hooting, let me introduce you to 'Munni' - our heroine.

Of course, my friend can be biased about her beauty - after all she was his first love - but I am taking his words as the final authority because they were coming straight from his heart.

As he puts it, every unmarried guy in the village was after her openly (and maybe, married guys clandestinely!). Some of them were really handsome while some of them were really rich and few of them both. Yet, out of that crowd of suitors, she fell for my friend!

It took her three years to woo him (so pricey he is!). The first year, it was just the eye-contacts. When he returned from Delhi to his village the next year, things went a step ahead but still on a very 'friendly' level. It was only during the third year when their chemistry intensified and their relationship deepened!

All his friends used to ask him with bewilderment,"what the hell did she find so irresistible in you?" (just like the entire country and especially media, was raising aspersions on Priyanka Gandhi's choice). May be Robert Vadra was aware of his 'salient features' but my friend wasn't. So one day he himself asked her, "tune mujhme aisa kya dekh liya?" (what did u notice in me that appealed to you?) And what she replied is actually an education to all the clueless guys out there.

She said, "I always wanted my man to be a hard-working guy." Now in an urban-setting, the word 'hard-working' may very well be extrapolated to 'passionate'. One who is chasing his big dreams most of the time and not girls all the time. She said, "The way you walk, your 'body language' appeal to me. I don't care much about face or money."

One fine day, when they were enjoying some time together, an old budhiya (yeh, she doesn't deserve any respect to be called anything else) spotted them and broke the news. News of affairs spread faster in a village than the 'Gangnam Style' video went viral on the net and are more devastating than Arvind Kejriwal's exposés. The entire village was in a state of pandemonium. (Are you thinking of playing the legendary item-song from the movie Dabangg? if yes, please go ahead!)

His own family was against his love. His mother said, "I won't let a Muslim girl enter my house."
He replied, "if you won't let her come in this house, why do you eat with them in their house?"
Unfortunately, this simple but jolting reply of my friend didn't cut any ice with his mother.

I am not really sure to what extent did they go to convince their families but I guess, eventually, they both realized that there wasn't any future of their relationship and hence went their separate ways. The wall of religion was simply too high for them to surmount with just love. Eloping, though a very celebrated phenomenon in Hindi movies, is not a very easy thing to do after all.

That was pretty much the end of his love story. Or should I say, end of his first and most colorful love story. Few more girls came in his life; the last one of course his wife and now mother of his two daughters.

(PS: when he went to his village a month back, he met with her! Although she is also 'happily' married now!)

The Secret in Their Eyes

In my previous posts, I have highlighted the level of cut-throat competition that exists at Metro station. It's more like a ‘jungle’ where the fittest and the meanest survives; where no trace of cooperation exists.

But there is a world beyond Metro Station where the same people exhibit the highest of the human qualities without the involvement of any ‘quid pro quo’ (unlike the alleged Vadra-DLF deals).

Let me share with you two such incidences where I was 'flash-flooded' with unilateral generosity. And I wasn't even able to thank them properly.

1) “Carry on”

I was standing in a line at Kirorimal college when two student from FMS (right opposite KMC) came to me and asked how much would I take for Khalsa College? I said 30 rupees which they were reluctant to pay. According to them, 20 rupees should be good. But then a third friend appeared and said he had to go as well. Now suddenly 30 rupees seemed reasonable. They said, “Ok, let’s go.”

No sooner did the third person arrive than I hiked the fare to 35! Now in my heart of hearts, I knew that I have over-quoted. Going by the fare standards that prevail in North Campus and my own experience for over a month now, no student would be willing to pay more than Rs 30 for that distance; notwithstanding how many or how heavy they were!

And I was right. They started nodding their heads in unison and moved on to the next rickshaw-walla. If I was sure that I had over-quoted then I was surer that he would invariably agree for 30.

But, to my and their disbelief, he quoted 40! Usually, when the sawari moves down the line, the fare either remains constant or falls but something weird was happening here. Dejected, the three students returned to me. I was smiling ear to ear but it had a sense of confusion as well.

However, everything dawned upon me in a flash when he winked and raised his head with a slight tilt signalling “carry on” with bright eyes and broadest possible smile!

2) “He will go”

This time around, I was queuing up at Daulat Ram College – on of the two all-girls’ college of North Campus. Here, rickshaws line up on both the sides of the exit gate. But the problem is – they don’t open the entire gate. A mini-gate at one corner is generally used.

Now this gave a clear advantage to rickshaws at one end. It was like the mini-gate had created two zones - Windward side, where all the girls were 'raining' and the leeward side, where the scenario was near-drought. And I unfortunately was standing on the leeward side. Out of 10 girls coming out of the gate, only two would drift this way and that too if ‘lured’ well in advance by calling or gesticulating or both.

While I was eagerly looking at the gate with expectant-eyes, a beautiful tall girl with big eyes (and eyes means eyes here, no euphemism!) emerged out of it. The thought - “I wish I were at that side of the gate” - flashed my mind. The girl asked the first rickshaw-walla in that line, “Metro station?” and he said, “Vo jayega” (He will go), pointing towards me!
I guess he intercepted my thoughts.

While the girl was coming towards me, I was looking at him with bewildered eyes (I should have been looking at the girl!) and asking “why” in my thoughts. I don’t know if he intercepted my cluelessness as well but his eyes didn't disclose the secret.