The following congregation of words will thankfully and surely qualify for an U certificate unlike the presumptions of a few. I am talking about the mundane elevators which are also known as the "lift" in India. My first exposure to an elevator was way back, when as a kid I had come to big city Calcutta and had visited an uncle's office all the way just for a ride. It was a cranky old thing chugging people from one floor to another. It served three floors and that was too much of a thrilling novelty for me that day.
Elevators come in different sizes and shapes these days and sometimes they turn out to be quite embarrassing for me but more about that later. Some elevators in a few old British type buildings are still in operation these days. The doors are actually a pair of collapsible iron gates and depending upon your luck there would be a liftman perched on his stool reading a tattered pocket book in the small time interval of the elevator moving from one floor to another. So this particular marvel when in operation would make all sort of funny noises emanating from the pulleys and chains and if you happen to look up through the transparent roof, provided you have the inclination and the time, you would see the dark hell awaiting to gobble you up. Much later they even had fans in those boxes but you could still see the top through the visibility created when the fan is whirring at full speed.
I still feel very safe in those lifts because the collapsible gates are naturally see through by design and I seem to have this sense of control on whatever is going on. The modern lift is quite a different proposition for me.
The modern elevators are closed boxes and its like a solitary confinement cell and depending upon the hour you may or may not have company. In these elevators I often have this mind and body coordination issues. Say I get into one such contraption in the 3rd Floor and I press the 10th Floor button. As the elevator starts off my mind also would perhaps take off and when the things stops at the 7th floor I in the heat of the moment also get out only to realise my folly. Now I have this problem of not showing up as stupid, so one behaves as if the 7th was anyway the original destination. Once this one passes up, I call for the next elevator in queue and off I go with my ego intact. These days when such incidents happen, I give a sheepish smile and get back into the elevator, no matter what my devilish ego dictates. Its like a three steps forward and immediate turn around and back in with a funny evidently stupid smile for others to see.
The modern lifts are also where we study in minute details about the dresses other people wear, their shoes and the smell of sweat or perfume depending upon your luck. The elevator is also double up as an instant beauty parlour to check out your Elvis Prisley hair style while the modern madonnas to check out the reflection, texture and smoothness of their lipstick coatings. The elevator designers of course knew about the human psychology and catered well for their quirks.
You also have elevators these days that are installed on the edge of buildings so as to give you a grand view of what's going on the outside. The transparent glass may give a scare of their life to people with vertigo, but I seem to enjoy this rather than keep looking at my stupid face in the mirrors on the wall.
There are other times when I am awaiting for an elevator. I get it in on its arrival only to find that its perhaps going down while I was scheduled to go up. Four letter words come to my mind instantly only to realise the futility of it all. Enjoy the free ride and this time make sure to press the right button when the elevator has changed course otherwise you would keep doing this soiree for the rest of your life.
The elevator has another close cousin these days. They are the nude form of the elevator know in the civilised world as escalators. They are the moving stairs. The escalator could be one of the world's most unique machine that works even when its dead. The stairs are still usable, aren't they? The escalator is also where there are two files of people traveling. One file is stationery waiting for the piece of metal they are standing on to reach its destination while the people in the other file are saving precious time in their busy life by simultaneously climbing down or up the moving stairs. Escalators these days are a part and parcel of my life and after one of these rides in the subway station when I find the guy who overtook me, riding in the same train compartment as mine, I get this instant vicarious pleasure. Enjoy the ride I say!!
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