Fragile Souls
Interesting things can happen during a typical morning commute. For the past two working days I have been one of the two thousand people sitting, mostly standing in a crowded tube train somewhere under London. Signal failure was one excuse and the one this morning was that somebody triggered the alarm of the train behind us by mistake! This obviously in normal in a city of seven million odd souls but it brings out certain social characteristics I don't find during a seamless commute.
I find London and its inhabitants a bit too stuffy on the tube. At least on the bus, one sometimes hears the annoying start of a conversation with the bleating of "I'm on the No. 73!" into a mobile phone. Love it or not it breaks the monotony of the glum faces and uncool silence - and you get to enter the world of another Londoner and try piece together a that person's world from the conversation they are having. On the tube one is confronted by a haughty atmosphere so steely and lifeless I sometimes wonder if I really am in the most vibrant city in the world. It's all about the shuffling of a free paper, the thump-thump from some over zealous MP3 player and the riders staring into nothingness, trying to avoid the little eye contact they can afford.
Throw a spanner on the rails, stop a train, do something and life emerges. Firstly with the inaudible grunts of displeasure, followed by loose small talk, then witty giggles finally leading to full on conversations and random bouts of laughter. Is it because we suddenly realise just how fragile we are and escape that fragility by talking to a complete stranger? If only these poor people could take a leaf from the commuters I used to know in Souther Africa. Life doesn't suddenly start in these awkward moments but it exists, rain, shine or a president who clings on the power after being rejected by his people.
I find London and its inhabitants a bit too stuffy on the tube. At least on the bus, one sometimes hears the annoying start of a conversation with the bleating of "I'm on the No. 73!" into a mobile phone. Love it or not it breaks the monotony of the glum faces and uncool silence - and you get to enter the world of another Londoner and try piece together a that person's world from the conversation they are having. On the tube one is confronted by a haughty atmosphere so steely and lifeless I sometimes wonder if I really am in the most vibrant city in the world. It's all about the shuffling of a free paper, the thump-thump from some over zealous MP3 player and the riders staring into nothingness, trying to avoid the little eye contact they can afford.
Throw a spanner on the rails, stop a train, do something and life emerges. Firstly with the inaudible grunts of displeasure, followed by loose small talk, then witty giggles finally leading to full on conversations and random bouts of laughter. Is it because we suddenly realise just how fragile we are and escape that fragility by talking to a complete stranger? If only these poor people could take a leaf from the commuters I used to know in Souther Africa. Life doesn't suddenly start in these awkward moments but it exists, rain, shine or a president who clings on the power after being rejected by his people.
