In Goa, buses are the cheapest and the quickest medium of public transport. Unfortunately, their availability and frequency are not in sync with the number of daily commuters.On an average, most private buses have 29-35 seats and have an 11-19 people standing limit.
But, on an average, each bus has nearly 38 people sitting and (in harshest circumstances) up to 45 people standing. I am not exaggerating. (Justin Bieber ki maa ki kasam)
Now, human bodies, unlike Bangladeshi Silk Sarees, cannot be folded and put inside a match box. So, when a bus is filled over-capacity, bodies of different individuals are going to collide, rub and squeeze each other. These are simple laws of physics which have been accepted and followed for nearly 400 years now. I will not get into the details, but my understanding of physics, when applied to the situation in question, produces this law:
“When a bus with a capacity to accommodate 11 standing passengers is filled with 30, there is high probability that people’s bodies will collide with each other. Also, the intensity of the collision is directly proportional to the number of turns on the road, complexity of the turn and the driver’s lack of expertise.”
Having said that,
It is a general observation that girls generally do not fancy physics. Their minds are not meant to understand its intricacies. And again, when this theory is applied in the above situation, we can see that, girls do not fancy the collision of bodies. But trust me; no one does it on purpose. Ok, there are some jerks in my species who try to take advantage of the situation, but I’m not one of them.
And that is where my problem with crowded buses comes in. This blog post is not a product of one night but a result of nearly 8 arguments with women on the bus who thought I was trying to intentionally hurt them. I WAS NOT!!!
Now, I’m too lazy to describe each of the encounters, but I will narrate those which ended sorely.
Story #1: Tale of the Unreasonable Maiden
It was a pleasant afternoon in the month of November. You know how pleasant November can get if you’ve lived in coastal areas. But for bus commuters, there are two seasons at any given time. One is the season outside the bus, and the other one is the constant summer inside the bus.
This reminds me, the eco-system in a packed bus is the best example to explain global warming. The body of the bus is the atmosphere. The people (green house gases) enter the bus and stay there. Their respiration causes a rise in the levels of CO2 and other harmful gases (sources of which are smelly armpits and plastic bags under the seats that contain the cheapest edible fish). This causes the temperature inside the bus and inside the head to rise.
This anxiety caused by a multitude of smells and noises of honking, ugly babies crying and uncles with hair on their ears talking un-ignorably loudly on the phone.
I entered one of these furnaces expecting the daily scenes of my daily ride. I analysed the positions available to park myself for the 20 minute journey. I found a decent place- next to a “Ladies Only” seat. Huge window. “At least some fresh air” I thought to myself. The first thing I do once I park myself: put on my ear-phones and disconnect myself from the most crowded room in the entire state- a room which has wheels, if you may.
You know how earphones work right? Yes, you have the full freedom to blast your favourite song at the highest volume. Also, you do not have to give a fuck as to who or what is present in the surrounding. Right?
Now, on that wretched day of November, a girl “parked herself” next to me. In some time, the bus started to crawl its way out of the world’s most un-organized Busstand (Mapusa). After we were 5 minutes into the ordeal, the girl said something that sounded like ‘excuse me’. So, I looked.
She said: Your bag strap is the touching me!
I said (in my head): Yeah, and the barbwire that it is made of is shredding your skin.
I moved my bag from my right shoulder to my left shoulder.
In the next two minutes, the driver lived up to his expectations. Passengers bumping into each other, baggage falling off the over head carrier, fish peeping out of their polythene cages. In one such incidents, I accidentally bumped into the same girl while trying to put my ear phone back in place.
She said: tsch! Tsch! These boys!! Bloody mannerless nonsensy . (her exact words)
And, After a long pause (Like Dilip Kumar’s)
I Said: (This time out loud) Listen madam, if you have so much trouble of men touching you, you should not climb into a bus that has 30 of them.
She said: Don’t act the smart with me. (Her exact words. I’m not exaggerating. Justin Bieber ki maa ki kasam)
I said: Stop talking. And take a rickshaw next time. Don’t mess with my mind. (The rest of it I said in my head) That royally moronic professor has made enough bhaji paala of my brains already.
She stared at me. Oh, BTW, I’m one of those people who talks loudly in public places. So, practically everyone in the bus was either looking at us or listening to us (simply because looking through 40 bodies is supernatural)
She looked angry. So, I thought to myself, might as well put the cherry on top of the cake.
I shouted: I wouldn’t fall on you on purpose, you aren’t even pretty!!!
Yes.
She started crying. People knew the argument was over and had already started trying to make it seem like they saw nothing.
Next stop, I got down.
Story#2: Summer time rocks
This one, I remember the date. 23rd April 2008. I happened to reach near my bus a little earlier than usual. Also, it was the peak afternoon time. Buses are relatively empty. But, like it’s destiny or something, there was just one empty seat in the bus. Without much fuss, I took it.
I am one of those people who do not mind anyone sitting next to them. It could be a young man, an old woman, a foreigner, a basket of live hens...I don’t give a tiny rat’s ass hair!!!
Now, it being summer, I was perspiring like a normal Indian male. (This is just a more sophisticated way of saying “sweating like a pig”)
While I sat next to something, I began my normal routine of plug the earphones, open music player, select a random Indian Ocean song and then set it on shuffle.
And suddenly,
The thing next to me spoke.
SHE said: Hey, why don’t you sit somewhere else?
In the next moment and a half, I looked at her and made an overall analysis of the girl in my head.
I said (to myself, in my head): Oh, I was sitting next to a girl. Hmm. Pretty face. Too thin. Dull choice of clothes. Sony Erickson phone. Going back home. WAIT!! She asked me to move from here. I should answer her.
I said: I’m not going from here. This was the only seat available.
I said (to myself, in my head) Why does she have a problem with me? I’m just sitting next to her, I am not going to try to molest her. What might have given her this idea.
She said: Why are you sweating so much. Please wipe it. You have a shortage of towels at your house?
*in the next one second, i had to analyse what she said, why she said it, and what would be the best thing to say*
I thought: ooh, girl is trying to be sarcastic. And of course, she wanted me to move because of the sweat. But wait, I have to think of a comeback.
AND THEN I NOTICED IT.
Remember the expression “sweating like an Indian man”
Yeah, I noticed that SHE was “as hairy as an Indian man”
If you paraphrase, it’s like saying She had Grizzly Bear hands.
My comeback was ready by default. Such things are made mechanically available by some part of my brain. I stared at her hands for some time and said...
“Man, you have hairy hands..Too much of shampoo at home or what?”
She stared into embarrassment as the bus moved.
Story#3: Size does not matter!
This one is very recent. Like a week ago. This story is the reason I decided to compile all incidents and post them on my blog.
So, on a bright sunny afternoon of the world’s hottest summer, I was on my way home after a lunch that satisfied all the sense organs. The bus had 10 minutes left till it left from the stand. So, I got a window seat (that is as rare as someone getting to watch Halley’s Comet twice in their life).
And ten minutes later, when the bus had already started to move, a girl came and sat next to me. After just (what felt like) 2 minutes into the journey, she started acting like how 8 year olds act when they want something but cannot say.
She tried pushing herself towards me. Then, she looked at me and said, could you please adjust?
I thought to myself: How could she think she could push me and move me? I was hit by a friggin’ bus and I survived (true story).
*Then, I acted as if I tried to move a little inside*
But crazy bus girl #3 was over-ambitious, and, she was as loud as I was.
She said: Fat people shouldn’t be allowed in buses! You are taking so much space! Please let me sit.
Normally, being called fat after a good lunch is not considered good manners among fat people.
I turned my head to look her in the eye. I realized she was on the healthier side too.
This was a classic case of one blind man bumping into another blind man and saying:
“Andhaa Salaa”
I had already started to think of a nice comeback to that. But she was a girl. She was fat. I didn’t need a fancy one here.
I looked at her, and said: Well, you are fat too!! Bloody bhains!
People from 5 seats behind stood up, actually stood up, to see who was being referred to as “Bloody Bhains”
That is a recipe for tears. And yes, she cried.
MORAL OF THE STORIES:
1) 1. Not all men are molesters
2) 2. Just because you are a girl, you cannot get away with unfair assessments
3) 3. Never, and I mean, NEVER in your life, mess with a person who is loud, witty and has no control over his tongue.
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