This essay - written by MSc Finance student Deepali Desai - explores one person’s observations and experiences of using London’s extensive underground tube system. A burden and frustration to many, an opportunity for Deepali to observe the journey’s of London’s everyday commuters.
Mind the Gap
Mind the Gap, please! I bet you read the title in the tube operator’s voice, didn’t you? I once had a nightmare that my phone fell out of my pocket and through the gap. But, during my short while in London, every person I have spoken to has had a personal nightmare story with the transport system. I have had my share of disappointments too, but often I find that my tube ride to Canary Wharf weaves the tapestry of human experiences threaded together by chance, unpredictability and observation.
Every train ride, I pretend I couldn’t be bothered, but between me and you, I am Grandpa Monopoly with my magnifying glass vision. I am always surprised by the exotic combinations of clothes and styles on a train—sometimes drowning in the trench coats, but saved by a lovely lilac scarf or green glitter patches on hard-core gum boots. At Cutty Sark, you meet those who always have three tons of baggage and wonder what a lot of burden to carry physically and emotionally. Surreptitiously looking up from my phone, and lo and behold, I have beautiful swathes of human expressions, staring at their phones—some smiling to themselves, some with moon-crescent foreheads, and some with locked-in eyes.
My nosy self loves to know what the text reads. The headphone dude has solved sudoku level 50, impressive! Man in a Sharp Suit has made the fifth easy-apply application on LinkedIn. New Pinterest board ideas I can steal! Bumble swipes that are faster than the reflexes of Formula One drivers. Sometimes I am privy to intimate conversations—who’s broken up with whom? And Charlotte stole Leah’s boyfriend’ scarf? How dare she! My newest addition picking up on words in phone conversations in languages I don’t understand. Tsao has a lot of fans, doesn’t he? Oh, do some sweet uncles swear by him. ( A deliberate inside joke for my Mandarin speakers). My personal favourite ones are those with the glossy big boots, the cadence announcing their arrival. Then you have the ones with the books, the most colourful ones, and I wonder how they don’t feel sick reading on a tube. The mental calculations they make to find a seat, and I know now you may feel self-conscious but if I am not on your train, you have eluded my piercing sight.
Then you have the one-of-a-kind specimens playing jenga with their coffee and phones—one precarious tumble down the Sisyphus hill. Diametrically opposed to this, you have those with jumping jack skills, balancing every gadget with finesse, with sci-fi-like gadget holders that you probably didn’t know existed. My least favourite ones are those with a mission, ohh the way they huff and puff to their destinations—scaring the poor piglets on their way (I am one of them). Since it’s a tube ride to Canary Wharf, how can I miss our Canary Wharfers with their neat outfits saving.
the day one presentation at a time? Is this me romanticising the tube ride? Yes, absolutely. Delusional or not, it’s the breadth of human experience that you can encounter. Weirdly like life—some passengers leave you a few stops earlier, and sometimes some get off with you at the same station. You never question whether you will reach your station, and your body innately knows when your station has arrived; so trust yourself sometimes, your destination is near, just like the transport it’s probably delayed—but you will journey on!