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Ah, macha, I feel this in my old knees! My cousin went to Delhi airport by local bus once... arrived looking like a wrung-out shirt, just like your suitcase.
Absolute truth! I did that once in Mumbai with a backpack, swearing by local trains. Sweat so much, my shirt could've grown rice. Now I’d rather skip a fancy meal than that airport trip.
Ah, bhai, kapda geela hune bhaneko ekdam sahi ho... last time I tried saving on a taxi to Rumtek in the rain, my samay pani bigriyo ani book pani!
Local trains can be punishing, I agree. But swimming in the sea at dawn teaches you that sweat—or seawater—is just part of the journey if the goal is worth it.
