The other morning, like all mornings nowadays, i got into a DTC 543 Ext. to get to college. Had to run for it so I wouldn’t miss it, even as conductor sahib stared amusedly out his window. and commented on my breathlessness when i was buying my ticket. Holding on to the pole in front of me, so i wouldn’t go crashing into something, or worse, someone, when Vin Diesel in the driver’s seat made yet another swerve, the urbane chick in me was irritated when this big shawl-wrapped, decaying-teethed, dirt-streaked bugger from god knows what sad part of the country wanted to seemingly stamp all over me to get his ticket first. so i elbowed him out a bit, pulled the earphones out, and yelled “bhaiya, 15 ki dena!” at the bus conductor, since he was happily ignoring my proffered fare. clutching my ticket, i elbowed the jerk a bit more, so i could get to a seat. once settled, breathing again, i plugged in my earphones again, pulled out my book, n was about to get around to finally enjoying my morning solitude, when there was a sudden commotion right behind me. pulling out the earplugs once again (disturbing John Mayer’s newest rendition a second time thus), i turn around to see the jerk from 5 minutes earlier yelling at a man for, apparently, taking his seat. all forms of garbage was spewing forth – “ye tere baap ki seat nai, *********“; “hum pehle aaye the, tum kya samajhte ho tum kaun ho,**********” This turned into a bit of filthy hair pulling, which provoked the other to tear the former’s shirt. The conductor, as you may have guessed, waited till this precise moment to intervene. Calling them both names, he said he’d throw them both out if they didn’t stop it. Which got them to stop mauling each other, but the words got even filthier than the buggers involved. Conductor sahib directed the fellow already sitting to come sit next to him, in the seat permanently vacant next to the conductor. And now, a ‘gentle’man sitting in the third row pipes up, in full Indian patriarchal my-opinions-matter style, “pata nahi kahan kahan se chale aate hain ye gawaar, bihar kya chhota pad gaya. dilli mein pehle hi itni bheed hai, aur gandagi failane chale aate hain. jao bhai, waapas chale jao, nahi chahiye tum log yahan…” This expert opinion was cheered on by a few, fully and completely agreed with by some others, and tittered about by almost the entire population of that bus. at this, the jerk attempted a retort, which was silenced by a suited-booted man with a deep voice, who had gotten tired of not being able to give gyaan on his phone because of the excitement. But the ‘gentle’man continued to discuss such unwanted migration (i doubt if he even knows this word) with a sympathetic auntyji, who kept nodding and shaking her head vigorously, tch-tching at the right places.
Now, where do we go from here?