When I was in the Crowded Subway

 I stood at the side walk of Young and Front St intersection of Toronto, one of the busiest cities in Canada. As I just exited from the the Union Station, I looked the surrounding area standing alone in a crowd. Infront of me were the gigantic glass towers that looked like the bridge which may connect to other planet. They were sprawling freely not looking down to the lilliputian people but to the contemporaries of New York, Shanghai and Dubai. Road was tiny in comparison the buildings and often crowded. 

I wanted to go to the subway station to go my sojourn Scarborough. I was from a tiny city of Western province, Alberta and arrived at Union through VIA Rail. As soon as I was off the train, I was already in te crowd. There were several neon lights and exit signs. There were name of the major roads alongside of the exit signs. I followed the sign to the Front St and waked on. On the way to the Front St, I met dozens of gentlemen who were panhandling or in other term they were telling me how dream can be shattered in the big cities and people end up in the railway station. On the floors next to the escalators many homeless people were sleeping with a grocery bag as a pillow. Some of them were holding musical instruments and playing for free, so that onlookers would drop a few pennies. 

As I exited through the gigantic wooden gate located to the North of the building, I saw so many people for the first time after so many years. All the people were colorful like a rainbow and they were all rushing to the different direction. There were also other people of my type who were  looking up to the top unable to count the floors. Anyway, I don't wanna talk to the skyscrapers of the modern town because these towers are the symbol of civilization of the modern world. Countries are counting the happiness index looking at those towers not the people who are sleeping at subway stations. 

After a quick observation of the towers, I walked down the road towards the Meridian Hall. It was one of the largest soft seat theatre in North America. Behind this building, there was a looming tower in the knife shape facing the fresh waters of Lake Ontario. I didn't know exactly where to go: so that, I stood there for a while figuring out how to get into the subway. Everyone looked elegant and professional in their outfit. I felt like an alien from another planet. 

Then I looked for an opportunity to ask someone for the direction to the subway. Everyone's ear was plugged in with some white stuff. I waited to meet someone without it for fifteen minute. There came a gentleman with a big smile. I asked him the to the subway. He smiled and showed me the same way where I exited before. He told me to get into the building and follow the subway sign. As I turned back to the direction where I just came from. I could see the CN Tower, one of the tallest free standing Tower in the world before Burj Khalif was build in 2009.

I entered into the Union station from the Front St entrance and made a left turn and walked down the stairwell following the sign of the subway. Everyone was running in the hallway. i simply followed them hoping that I could catch find the station. After walking a few minutes, I saw people rushing through the small bars that made a beeping sound. Before entering through the bars, I paused briefly looking at the people what they do to enter into the subway. Everyone was holding the green card and tap on the machines on the gate before entering through. I saw the doors opened making beeping sounds after each passenger tap the green card. I did not have the green card, so I asked to one of the customer service associate if I could buy the ticket. "Yes", he replied and showed the machine and also taught how to purchase the ticket. I purchased a ticket with my credit card and touched the machine with the barcode of my ticket. Immediately, the doors opened with a beeping sound and I entered. 

I could here metallic sound movement and people were going two different direction. I did not know which direction at first. I looked the signs on the wall, but there it wasn't mention Scarborough. One one Northbound and Southbound. Again confused. I thought I should ask someone which train should I take. I waited for the right person and the right moment to ask a question, but did not find one for a while. Everyone was running like a gushing wind before a big storm. "Sir, do you need assistance?", a police officer asked. At first, I was scared thinking that if i did anything wrong. But their question made me ask for the help. " Yes, I want to go to Scarborough", I told. He showed me escalator going down the plate form. There were already many passengers waiting for the train. They were standing right at the border of the yellow line., Nobody was talking and nobody was touching the yellow line. I stood right by the wall and observed the people around. most of them looked alone in the crowed. Some others were smiling alone. At the corner, there was a man with a oversized backpack sleeping making it a cozy pillow. Around his cozy bed, I could see some plastics and papers. He was talking to himself and laughing intermittently. 

Train arrived at the station blowing the hot air and stopped. Soon,  sea of people boarded off and another sea of people boarded on along with me. Train slithered in a high speed through the tunnel and stopped at Kings, Queens, Dundas and so on. The train was over crowded. People were standing on the hallways, exit and entrance holding the ropes attached to the ceilings. Some of them were laughing alone, and some other young boys and girls were kissing each other without hesitation. An old man with gray hairs entered into the train from the Kings station who had a grocery bag full of clothes. His hair was messy and unorganized. The pant he wore had multiples holes and dirt spots. In other hand, he was holding a beer. He sat on the floor, drank the beer from the can and put it back to the floor. The train stopped at Dundas making a halt which caused the beer fell on to the floor and spilled. People who were closer to him moved away. He picked up the can and put it in the bag. Looking around with his keen eyes, he put off the shoes and starting scratching the feet. His feet looked all red and pinkish, full of sores. He continued scratching the leg and his private area. Moving his fingers faster then normal, he began scratching his back and the belly. He took of his shirts and scratched. Then he scratched his head carefully shoving his fingers through the long, messy and unorganized hair. Nobody talked to him, even cared what he was doing. 

As soon as  the train arrived Bloor and Young station, he collected all the belongings and got off the train. I heard the announcement for the line two, I, too, got off the train and went down the platform of line one East bound. I did not have to pay for the ticket as it was valid for two hours for any TTC transportation. At the platform, there were multiple people who looked impoverished for whatever reason. Some faces were stressed and some were dim. As soon as the train arrived, everyone went in, however, no one was pushing each other. I occupied a seat, folded my hands carefully and put over my chest. And I started scanning the faces of the people standing and sitting in the train. Everyone looked completely lonely and apart. Most of them had earphone attached in their both ears and they were constantly looking at the screen of their mobile phone. When the train stopped at the Woodbine station, half of the passenger went off the train. As soon as the train started moving, I heard someone playing the guitar and also singing some country song. it was a white couple who were on the job. As they played the music for a few minutes, the lady went closer to each passenger with the hand gesture of begging. Some of the passengers dropped a few coins in her plastic cup. They climbed off the train at Warden station. However, there came another couple who looked like East Indian. They had a musical instrument too, looked like a Voillin. The boy played it and the girl did the same as the earlier white couple. 

Train finally stopped at Kenndy Station which was the final station of the east bound of Line one. From there I had to take a bus and it was also free of fare. I climbed the escalator to the main floor of the station building. In every corner of the floor, there were people of different activities. Some of them playing music loudly and dancing, some of them making frequent hand gestures. It was scary to be close of them because they were unpredictable. I checked the google map for the right bus to take and rode bus Eighty-six. Finally arrived home at 175 Trudelle St. 

I stood on the sidewalk at the intersection of Young and Front Streets in Toronto, one of the busiest cities in Canada. Having just exited Union Station, I took a moment to observe my surroundings amidst the bustling crowd. Towering glass skyscrapers loomed in front of me, resembling bridges connecting to other planets. These structures sprawled freely, indifferent to the small figures of the people below, as they rivaled the contemporaries of New York, Shanghai, and Dubai. The road, in contrast, seemed tiny in comparison to the buildings and was often crowded.

My intention was to reach the subway station to begin my journey to Scarborough. Coming from a small city in the western province of Alberta, I had arrived at Union Station via VIA Rail. As soon as I stepped off the train, I found myself engulfed in the crowd. Neon lights and exit signs illuminated the station, displaying the names of major roads. I followed the signs leading to Front Street and continued walking. Along the way, I encountered numerous individuals panhandling, sharing tales of shattered dreams in big cities where people end up in railway stations. Homeless individuals lay on the floors next to the escalators, using grocery bags as makeshift pillows. Some held musical instruments, playing for free in the hopes of receiving a few pennies from passersby.

Exiting through a large wooden gate located north of the building, I saw a multitude of people for the first time in years. The crowd appeared vibrant and diverse, resembling a rainbow as they rushed in different directions. Among them were people like me, gazing up at the towering structures, unable to count the floors. However, I chose not to engage in conversation with the skyscrapers of this modern city since these towers symbolized the civilization of the modern world. Countries measure their happiness index based on these structures, rather than considering the individuals sleeping in subway stations.

After briefly observing the towers, I proceeded down the road towards Meridian Hall, one of the largest soft seat theaters in North America. Behind the building stood a towering structure resembling a knife, its edge facing the fresh waters of Lake Ontario. Uncertain of my exact destination, I paused for a moment, contemplating how to access the subway. Everyone around me appeared elegant and professional in their attire, making me feel like an alien from another planet.

In search of someone to ask for directions to the subway, I noticed that everyone had their ears plugged with earphones. I waited for fifteen minutes to find someone without earphones and finally encountered a gentleman with a big smile. I asked him for directions, and he kindly gestured towards the same way I had exited before, advising me to enter the building and follow the subway signs. Turning back in the direction I came from, I caught a glimpse of the CN Tower, one of the tallest freestanding towers in the world until the construction of the Burj Khalifa in 2009.

Entering Union Station through the Front Street entrance, I made a left turn and descended the stairwell, following the subway signs. The hallway was filled with people hurrying about, and I simply followed their lead, hoping to find the station. After a few minutes of walking, I noticed people rushing through small bars that emitted a beeping sound. Before entering through the bars, I paused momentarily to observe how people accessed the subway. Each person held a green card, tapping it on the machines at the gate before entering. The doors opened with a beep after each passenger tapped their green card. Since I did not possess a green card, I approached a customer service associate to inquire if I could purchase a ticket. "Yes," they replied, pointing me towards the ticket machine and explaining the process. I purchased a ticket using my credit card and touched the machine with the barcode of my ticket. Immediately, the doors opened with a beep, and I stepped inside.

The sound of metal scraping filled the air as people moved in two different directions. Initially unsure which direction to take, I looked at the signs on the wall, but none mentioned Scarborough. There were only signs indicating Northbound and Southbound. Feeling confused once again, I decided to ask someone which train I should take. After waiting for the right person and the right moment to ask, I found myself surrounded by a sea of people rushing like a gushing wind before a storm. A police officer approached me and asked, "Sir, do you need assistance?" Initially startled, fearing I had done something wrong, I mustered the courage to ask for help. "Yes, I want to go to Scarborough," I replied. The officer directed me to an escalator leading down to the platform. Many passengers were already waiting for the train, standing at the edge of the yellow line. Nobody spoke or touched the yellow line. I positioned myself against the wall and observed the individuals around me. Most of them seemed lonely amidst the crowd, while some wore solitary smiles. In a corner, a man with an oversized backpack had made a cozy pillow out of it. I could see plastic bags and papers scattered around his makeshift bed. He talked to himself and occasionally laughed.

When the train arrived at the station, it blew out hot air and halted. A sea of people disembarked, while another sea of people boarded the train, including myself. The train slithered through the tunnel at high speed, stopping at Kings, Queens, Dundas, and other stations. The train became overcrowded, with people standing in the hallways, exits, and entrances, holding onto ropes attached to the ceiling. Some individuals laughed alone, while young couples fearlessly kissed one another. An elderly man with gray hair boarded the train at Kings station, carrying a grocery bag full of clothes. His hair was unkempt and messy, and his pants were riddled with holes and dirt stains. In his other hand, he held a beer can. Seating himself on the floor, he drank from the can and placed it back on the floor. When the train stopped at Dundas, causing the beer to spill onto the floor, those closest to him moved away. He picked up the can and placed it in his bag. With his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, he removed his shoes and began scratching his feet. His feet appeared red and covered in sores. He continued scratching his legs and private area, his fingers moving faster than normal. He then scratched his back and belly, eventually removing his shirt to continue scratching. Carefully running his fingers through his disheveled hair, he scratched his head. Nobody interacted with him or showed concern for his actions.

Upon arriving at Bloor and Young station, the man collected his belongings and exited the train. I heard the announcement for Line 2 and also disembarked, descending to the platform for Line 1, heading eastbound. Luckily, I didn't have to pay for another ticket as it was valid for two hours of any TTC transportation. Several individuals on the platform appeared impoverished, each with their own story. Some wore expressions of stress, while others seemed downtrodden. When the train arrived, everyone entered without pushing or shoving. I found a seat, folded my hands neatly over my chest, and began scanning the faces of those standing and sitting in the train. Each person seemed utterly alone and distant. Many wore earphones in both ears, constantly engrossed in the screens of their mobile phones. At Woodbine station, half of the passengers disembarked. As the train resumed its journey, I heard the sound of someone playing the guitar and singing a country song. It was a white couple who were busking. The lady approached each passenger, gesturing with her hand for donations. Some passengers dropped a few coins into her plastic cup. The couple exited the train at Warden station, only to be replaced by another couple who appeared to be of East Indian descent. They too had a musical instrument, resembling a violin. The boy played it while the girl mimicked the earlier couple's gestures.

Finally, the train arrived at Kennedy Station, the final stop on the eastbound Line 1. From there, I needed to take a bus, which was also free of charge. I ascended the escalator to the main floor of the station building, where people engaged in various activities occupied every corner. Some played music loudly and danced, while others made frequent hand gestures. Being in close proximity to them was unnerving due to their unpredictable behavior. Consulting Google Maps for the correct bus to take, I boarded Bus Eighty-Six. Eventually, I arrived home at 175 Trudelle St.