The Metro Ride : A Lesson in Short Journeys

- Ravi Ila Bhatt

The evening rush at the Indiranagar Metro Station was peak chaos. Ananya, clutching her heavy college backpack and a half-finished project chart, pushed her way into the crowded coach just as the doors were sliding shut.

Breathless, she squeezed into the only available sliver of a seat next to an older man, maybe in his 60s, who was quietly reading on his phone. As she swung her bag down, the heavy metal buckle of her laptop sleeve clattered hard against the man’s elbow.

He winced, his face tightening for a second, but he didn't look up or complain.

Ananya, already stressed from a long day and expecting a lecture or a glare, braced herself. When he stayed silent, she felt even more awkward. "I’m so sorry, Uncle," she muttered, her voice defensive. "But honestly, you didn't even react. I hit you pretty hard—why didn't you say something or get angry?"

The man looked up, gave her a calm, genuine smile, and said, "Beta, there’s no point in getting upset over something so small. Our journey together is very short—I’m getting off at the next station."

Ananya sat back, the words hitting her harder than her bag had hit him. "Our journey is very short."

She looked around the coach. A group of boys were arguing over a cricket score; a woman was snapping into her phone at a delivery agent; two students were giving each other "death stares" over a seat.

She realized how much of her own "storage space" was filled with junk:

The grudge against her best friend for not liking her latest post.

The anger at the rickshaw driver who overcharged her by twenty rupees.

The constant "mental battles" she fought with people who didn't even matter.

She thought about her life as a one-way metro ride. We board, we travel for a bit, and we hop off. Why spend that precious commute being toxic, holding onto "seen" messages, or dwelling on insults?

If someone is rude to you in the cafeteria—stay chill. If a group leaves you out of the plan—let it go. If a teacher is unnecessarily harsh—breathe and move on. None of it is worth losing your peace of mind over.

When the announcement for the next station chimed, the man stood up. Ananya stood up too, letting him pass. She looked him in the eye and whispered, "You’re right, Uncle. The journey really is too short for all that."

As the doors opened and he disappeared into the crowd, Ananya felt a strange lightness. She adjusted her bag, put her headphones away, and decided that for the rest of her "journey," she was going to pack more smiles and a lot less luggage.

Moral :

Life is a short journey, and the people we meet are only with us for a while. So don’t waste time on anger, ego, or grudges.