A Lady Who Wanted To Take This Teenage Boy To Police Station For Not Obeying Her

That’s just a random picture of crowded Delhi. Photo by Fancycrave on Unsplash

 

 

 

 

Bus rides are joyful experiences. To travel peacefully on a window seat staring quietly at the passerby's, looking at people on bikes and cars hurrying themselves to reach someplace quicker, buildings by buildings of varying sizes passing like a film via the window glass. And then if you are lucky you meet a nice fellow passenger, you both talk and somehow in its own small and strange ways, you become part of someone’s life who was stranger a while ago. Aha. That is if you are lucky. But I was with no luck in my pockets. I did not get a fellow passenger to talk to. I did not even get a seat to sit forget the window one. I was standing in a crowded bus near the back door of this public transport vehicle with my travel bag. Not big but not too small either. The bus had moved few stops from where I had boarded and had just stopped at another stop. Of the many people who came in, men and women included, there was this lady with a healthy figure and just a small ladies’ handbag or purse. Small one. Mind you, the bus was overcrowded. There was hardly any space for standing without being squeezed (forget touch) from all corners. She walks in with the crowd. These special buses in Pune have three doors. Apart from the usual front and back doors, there’s one in the middle of the bus. This particular crowd came in from this door. As it was crowded, the lady, like many others was stuck closer to the door. Bus started. I was back to staring at my mobile screen. This is when I heard someone shout. It was this lady.

“Bag hataayiye Bag hataayiye, ye bag kiska hai..”
Remove this bag, remove this bag, whose bag is it..

I was taken aback. How did she know of my bag? My bag wasn’t in the middle. I had placed it sideways so people can still walk to and fro. What am I to do now? Before I could open my mouth, someone else did.

“Bag aur kaha rakhe.. Aap side se chale jaayiye”
Where should I keep my bag… You go from the side.

It was the owner of the bag. A teenager who had rather large travel bag. By the look of it, it appeared as if he was leaving for home (as the bus was moving to Pune railway station, one of the main train stations in India). He, in fact, boarded the bus from the same stop as myself.

The lady was frowning. But she walked anyway. Came to a seat near the back door and close to where I was standing. These buses have their left side all reserved for women. There were two men sitting on that seat. She asked them to get up. Fair request. One of them who sat at aisle seat stood up. But the lady insisted for the guy who was at the window to get up as well. He told her that she wanted a seat which she has it now. She said she wanted the window seat only. I would not say a fair request but the person obliged and got up. She occupied the window seat and bus started moving calmly again. But the storm wasn’t over yet.

While the bus was on the move, we were still fighting for a little space to breathe effortlessly and the lady was safe with her window seat. And then out of the blue she started,

“Dekho dekho bag kaise beech mein rakha hua hai. Kiska bag hai ye. Hatao use. Logo ko pareshaani ho rahi hai..”
Look… look how that bag’s been kept in the middle. Whose bag is it? Remove it. People are facing difficulty.

I was taken aback. What’s happening? Why is she crying out? Where are we supposed to keep our bags? The bus doesn’t have any special place for them.

“Aapko kya takleef ho rahi hai. Aap baithe ho naa. Itni problem hai to auto leke chale jaayiye”
What difficulty are you facing? You’ve sat on your seat, right? If you are having that much of a problem, take an auto (consider cab) instead.

The boy replied. There were some murmurs from around him. Apart from that everything was calm.

“Shut up. Don’t talk to me. I will slap you both sides. Look how he is talking..”

She had switched to English after the teenager had responded her in Hindi.

Silence again. I was also wondering now about this lady. I wanted to speak out. Shout. Tell her to speak in Hindi so the teenager understands. And calm down. How and where is that boy supposed to carry his bag? But I didn’t. I just muttered some lines which only a man before me heard and laughed it off. Lady kept quiet for a while and then started again.

“Conductor conductor.. Us ko bolo bag hatane. Kitni pareshaani hoti hai. Pata nahi kaha se aa jaate hai. Bus mein kyu aate hai bag leke.”
Conductor conductor… Ask him to remove his bag. How much difficulty is it causing? Don’t know where these people come from. Why do they come into bus?

I don’t know the boy. But from the kind of accent he had, I can assume he is from North India. Probably from Lucknow in the state of Uttar Pradesh. I say Lucknow because his Hindi was polished and he was talking with utmost respect even in that hour of rage in a crowded bus. Going a little further, he probably works in Pune in some unorganized sector probably some manual work. That’s just a guess.

There are many reasons why people take the risk of traveling via public transport which is crowded, dirty and highly unreliable. The reason they still do is that public transport is the cheapest way to commute. For people who earn meager sums, taking cab or auto is a luxury they cannot afford. They save the meager amount they earn by traveling via public transport. Remember we were standing in that crowded bus for the whole of one-hour long journey.

Anyhow, the drama continued.

“Bag kaha rakhe hum?”
Where should I keep my bag?

The boy asked what was a genuine concern.

“Dekho kaise baat kar raha hai. Arey bag laate hi kyu ho? Kahi pe bhi rakho. Mujhe kya. Sar pe rakho apne. Hatao waha se.”
Look how he’s talking. Why do you bring the bag? Keep it anywhere. What do I care? Have it on your head. Remove it from there.

Mind you the bag was some two meters away from where she was sitting. By now I had lost my calm. I could control no more. I wanted to jump in. That’s when the guy in front of me started talking. He said this is what she does every day. He apparently works with construction nearby and travels daily. Apparently, she too travels frequently and this is ritual. Maybe. That probably was the reason why conductor wasn’t responding to her cries.

But the teenage boy didn’t know this. While I kept quiet, he didn’t.

“Aap auto leke kyu nahi jaate ho agar aapko itni problem hai to..”
Why don’t you take auto/cab if you have such a problem…

“Shut up. I say shut up,” he was cut short by the lady. “Conductor (who was now nearby her seat), look how this fellow is talking. If the police station was nearby… I will get down and complain to police now.”

The poor conductor was baffled. Looking at his face I guess he didn’t understand anything except ‘shut up’ and something about police. He muttered something in Marathi which is local language. He didn’t say it at her or him but in general. I think he was himself frustrated walking in that crowded bus trying to collect fares from every passenger. The lady continued her cries. Everyone now was getting used to her. The teenager too was no more responding. Slowly, at some point, she stopped. I was already busy gulping my Twitter timeline.

My train was at 4:20. The bus reached the station at 4:11. I made a wild run in the rains pulling my trolley bag and at times carrying it over. I made it to the station by 4:24 fearing train must have left only to find out that it was delayed by 2 hours. Those 2 hours turned to 3 to 4 and finally 6 long arduous hours. I finished reading a few chapters of Free Voice by Ravish Kumar before finally boarding the train at 10:20.

P.S. I did wanted to talk with the boy; know his story and just tell him it was pathetic experience in bus. But I did not find him anywhere. That was understandable given how crowded Indian stations are.