on the 7:45 from Dwarka

My friend Prerna lives in Dwarka Sector 10, which requires planning. You don't accidentally end up in Dwarka. You commit to Dwarka. You check the weather, you leave buffer time, you make peace with the fact that the return journey will be late and possibly involve a shared Rapido. But the metro from Dwarka in the early morning is one of my favorite things in this city. The Blue Line at 7:45am, filling up at each station, and by Janakpuri you're in the middle of the city's entire workforce moving east. Students, office workers, the women in saris who look utterly at ease while standing in a packed carriage in a way I have never managed. There's a brief stretch near Rajouri Garden where the train goes elevated and you can see the city laid out — the water tanks and the malls and the old houses being replaced by new ones and the stubborn trees that have survived everything. I always try to get to a window for this bit. Prerana and I have been friends since college. We've both changed quite a lot. We still have the specific shorthand you develop with someone you've known through multiple versions of yourself, which is its own language. When I take the 7:45 I always arrive at her flat a bit less burdened than when I left mine. I don't fully understand why. The journey, maybe. The elevated stretch near Rajouri Garden. The feeling of moving through the city before the day has decided what it wants to be.