I cross the Fraser River every single day. When we moved to Surrey, I wanted to continue going to my school in Burnaby, but I wasn’t very happy about the resulting need to transit 40 minutes twice a day. It’s still not the most enjoyable way to spend every morning, but my transit is something I’m now strangely fond of.

I think I live a pretty eventful life, some days really good, and some bad. Most days I’m on the train just to get to school, but many days I’m heading to Metrotown to hang out with friends. Some days I’m teaching elementary coding camps, but some days I’m soaked in sweat after a badminton game. Some days it’s painfully early, but many days it’s past sunset. Regardless, the one constant throughout every single day is my time on the train: the fast-moving landscape of Vancouver’s buildings, mountains and rivers, and most probably, a consistent set of faces.

I always think of how surreal the experience is. I share the car with atleast 50 other people, and every one of them just had a day as eventful as mine: maybe the best of their life, or sometimes one of the worst. I see when they’re looking at the mountains reflecting off the river, but I don’t know what they’re thinking about. I see when they’re on their phones, but I don’t know the family they’re texting. I see what stops they get off at, but I don’t know what they do for a living. I see they’re Indian or Chinese or Caucasian, but I don’t really know their story.

I remember reading a paper which described the immense amount of compute it takes to simulate hair in video games. On the train, I often think about the amount of processing power it would take to simulate each person with me. Would each person be a computer by themselves? Or would each molecule be a whole supercomputer by itself? And, of course, how would the interactions between people, or the millions of interactions between molecules, be represented? I know how much a smile from a stranger can change my day. Would that be some kind of interprocess communication? And how would these interactions be represented outside of our train? As in, if that smile affected my interactions for the rest of my day, then it must somehow be retained in my state. And if a single train can change so much of our world, what happens the moment those doors open?

I find it incredible that I can sit through 10 stops and every station speaks of a neighborhood with completely different racial clusters, wealth distributions, and age demographics. When I lived in Bangalore, I went to a school with 18,000 brown students. All of us had our own dreams and backgrounds. Now, I go to a school with over a thousand people: many visiting internationals, many immigrants, and many Deaf. Yet, we all find ourselves in the very same building, every day at 9am. Except for when the train gets stuck at 22nd. I’m pretty much always late then.

I’ve lived in Bangalore, Toronto, and Vancouver. Some of my closest friends are in Europe, Asia, and San Francisco. I’ve been really lucky to live a life full of opportunities, but I think to live in different worlds is a gift that has defined me in ways I haven’t begun to realize. I’ve shared many memories with the people on the train, some of my happiest days and some of my saddest. I haven’t talked to many of them but I’ve sat beside them, behind them and across from them. They make me think about interesting questions, and I find comfort knowing that despite all our differences, all of our obliviousness, and all of my questions, somehow we are all still a daily constant in each others’ long vibrant lives.