Metro matrix

I grew up in Mumbai where commuting by local trains was a daily ritual. I had travelled by Metro in Delhi and Kolkatta in India. So when I was at the Torcy station waiting for the train to Champ de Mars I had imagined this commute would be a similar or may be a slightly fancier experience. But soon I realised that it was going to be a unique experience.

The stations on the metro lines are as glamorous as the city itself. The glittering advertisements, fancy vending machines, colourful city maps add glamour to the platforms. The signage in more than three languages explained the cosmopolitan character of the city. Looking at the train from the platform I felt that half the passengers were sinking in the platform while other half were floating above the platform.

The double decker trains were full of people of various colours wearing costumes which explained why this city is known as the fashion capital of the world. I wondered how much money the beggars would make in a day by distributing small cards which explained the reason of their plight and poverty in English and French languages. The musician playing peppy tunes were as entertaining as those in any other city squares in Europe. I am definitely going to miss this community after I go back to India.

The most intimating part of the journey was the switch over of the metro lines. I lost my way at least once in every commute in spite of the adequate signage guiding me through the endless tunnels. After maneuvering through the long tunnels and sliding up and down the escalators I had lost count of the levels I descended underground. A thought about trains running one above the other over my head would tickle my mind. After emerging out of the station completely disoriented I would make a futile effort to understand this three dimensional tangle. 

I will definitely remember my fist trip to Paris for this downward trip than the upward trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower. 

A metro station in Paris.