The choice

It was 8.30 on a Wednesday night, and i was rushing down a crowded stairs at Andheri railway station.Now, as anyone who has tried to do that will tell you, its impossible. Because when i say 'rushing', i mean an average of 1 minute on each stair.
I was headed towards Nalasopara, a small town towards the end of the western line. Already I'd missed two trains, one of them an Andheri-Virar local, so i was feeling pretty irritated. this was before my half-hour stair climbdown.and to make matters worse, i had a second class ticket with me.
The train was on the platform by the time i made it, and about to leave. the second class compartment door had 13 people hanging on it. the first class one, on the other hand, had only 10. i didn't think. i squeezed into the first class.the next thing i know, people are screaming inside, saying 'you think u can get into a first class compartment and noone would notice? get out right now'. and before i could react, two boys, shabbily dressed and with unkempt hair, were being pushed out of the compartment, with curses and a few blows rainin on them from all sides. "yeah get out", i added for good measure, and without makin eye-contact.
The train started, and i stood there; refusing to think or acknowledge what i'd just done. half formed thoughts of self-defense were running through my mind. after all, it was really crowded. otherwise i'd have missed the train. besides, i still had a first class season ticket with me, even though it expired yesterday. Borivili came, and with it more people. But for some reason, it was my mental struggle that bugged me more than the physical push-and-shove routine. i was struggling with guilt. And guilt, i discovered suddenly, was a terrible feeling. It highlights a particular action, incident or aspect of life, and gives it importance far beyond the realms of perspective.A lot like love, but exactly the negative opposite.
Two more stations, and i couldnt take it anymore. I had to get off, and get into the second class. So i did just that. I got off at Bhayander station, walked towards the compartment that i should've gotten into in the first place. I stood there, watching as many many people clawed their way into a fully packed coach. I stood there, watching 15 people hang on to the door for their lives, and also after i was pushed away for volunteering to be the 16th. I stood there, long after that train had left, because the next train was 26 minutes later.
Sitting on a small granite slab, sandwiched with three other men, of which one was obese enough to find the seat insufficient even if he were alone, i thought about life, and all the things we do in it. I thought of right and wrong, of good and evil, and of the consequences of our actions. Of how certain things seem very important at times, but then how quickly our perspectives can change..
The friendly and extremely irritating female voice announced the arrival of the next train,in 3 languages. It was 10 minutes behind schedule. 10 minutes is a long time by train travel standards. With each passing minute, an average of 500 people get added to each station, so the consecutive train will correspondingly be so much merrier. So after an effective 36 minutes wait, there arrived on Bhayander platform - the most crowded train ever seen!! - on that day. For a brief description, it was a very merry train, with atleast a 100 people partying on the roof. And quite a few looking like they were about to carry the party to the basement.
Predictably, it stopped to a halt perfectly, leaving me standing between the first class to my right and the second to my left. So, fast-emptying first class to my right, and fast-filled, still-filling, no-sign-of-ever-stopping second class to my left.
You got that? its clear? good. because now you can choose which one you'd pick. If you were there standing where i was.
As for me, well...