At some point, you will find yourself wondering why you bother traveling by the metro. It's a convenient way but let's face it. Unless the coaches are empty, it's a bad way to get somewhere.
The people are terrible. They are loud and unyielding. They keep attempting to make space where there is none. The sallow faced men and women are the worst, their craggy faces in no way betraying the sheer elbowing power they can display. And elbow you they will, anywhere they possibly can. The women with their embroidered clothes that prick with each turn.
It definitely isn't the charm of the whole thing. That lost out after the first six days spent with some woman's hair lodged in my face and her hands on my shoulder for support.
But then, once you can get past the people and their grabby hands, you can't help but feel some pride. Pride in the metro, in the way it functions and that even the whole of Delhi still hasn't managed to degrade it completely.
And just as you start welling up with that pride, a woman comes and manages to scratch your arm, claw at your face and step on your foot all at the same time. While squishing you against the door.