Buses in Chennai, represent a very sad state of affairs. At Kennedy Space Center, I went inside a rocket that was about to be launched. Although I would love to leave that sentence there without any further explanation, I have to admit that it was only a prototype for simulation purposes and not a real one. The simulation began and got over with no effect on me whatsoever, unlike the thrilled and grinning faces around me thanks to my experience with buses in Chennai. The rocket just rocked, twirled, groaned and vibrated. Not what I had in mind for I had seen all that and even more back in Chennai.
Whenever, the driver shifted gears in the bus I almost threw up, not what I ate but my heart itself. He would try to change the gear but the damn rod would not budge. He would use his fist, forearm and even his elbow to move it and all this while racing the green light along with people driving as if they were all escaped convicts with cops right behind them. That is not even the worst part. That credit goes to the lovely passengers I travelled with. It was always so crowded that at any point you either had at least four people sharing all the parts of your body or air gushing against your face while your feet were suspended and your entire body supported by your hands which clung on to a flimsy bar of rusted iron in one of the windows. Since I had no interest in finding out the tensile strength of the rusted iron rod at the cost of my life I always chose the former.
Anyway, I was travelling with my friends to a book store to return some books in one of these buses. We had had a rough day at college and were on our way to a very far off book store. All the seats were taken as usual and the fact that we were carrying books made us even more vulnerable. We desperately wanted to sit and take the burden off our shoulders. So we just went ahead asked the ladies in the last row to get up and make way for us as we were carrying a lot of books. We damn well knew it was reserved for ladies but hey, try following rules when you cannot feel your shoulders anymore. Of course, the ladies said no and that it was reserved and blah, blah, blah… I told them to have some moral values and follow the rules in spirit and not in letter.
Enter Conductor: “Stop bothering the ladies you rowdies”
Me: What is it with you moron. It is not as if you are a director and this is a casting couch reserved for beautiful girls, is it? Wake up! You are just a conductor. Of course, this went on in my mind.
My Friend: Get Lost!!
People usually don’t talk to conductors like that. And he immediately stopped the bus and got some cops who usually come in so late in the movies and so promptly when you don’t need them in real life. The cops looked at us seriously, and this is where I played smart! They were asking us where we came from and things like that. I tried answering them but I kept my voice so feeble that they did not think for one second that I might do some eve teasing of which we were all being so unjustly accused by our conductor. I was on song and played a little trick and opened my bag and told them with all the innocence in the whole world that I was on my way to the book store.
The cops refused to believe what the conductor was saying looking at our innocent faces and the books and just left. The conductor did not speak any more and nobody in the bus made eye contact with us anymore. Of course we did not get space to sit but we had plenty to stand because nobody dared to come near us. With so many people in the bus they did not hear our conversation with the ladies, or the conductor or even the cops. So they just knew that cops had come and interrogated us and left. Most of them probably assumed we got away with some eve teasing because one of us was a gangster.
Whatever, I did not care anymore for we had plenty of not just space in the crowded bus but respect out of fear too!
Now, wasn’t that extremely smart?
