Why take the slow train when there's a fast? That question, above all, loomed large over the heads of my young classmates and myself when we were in college, back when teenagers could still enter a local train without the risk of being trampled to death.

We would stand at Marine Lines, calculating the amount of time we could save by rushing to the third platform instead of waiting for three minutes more at the first platform. The time we saved was negligible, of course, and didn't really matter because none of us were in charge of running the country. And yet, we did it every single day, running for the fast instead of enjoying the slow ride.