I have nothing against public transport and I have absolutely nothing against people in general. But when the two mix it’s a combination that makes me squirm. I still think 4 - 5 times before hopping into a DTC (Delhi Transport Corporation) bus or a Blue Line (the private bus operators) for that matter. If I do travel in a bus, it would probably be more of a last resort.

There are many instances that have cemented my opinion about public transport in India, but there is one that stands out. It’s a glaring example that refuses to fade away in the dust of memory. It has become an encounter that I and my friends laugh about.

It happened when, I (unsuspecting soul, as usual) was traveling in a bus on a nice sunny Saturday morning. It was around 11:30 – 12 and for some reason I was actually enjoying this particular ride. 

But as is with good moments, they last a precious few seconds. My pleasant ride also lasted about 1-2 minutes. The bus had stopped at a particularly crowded stop and people had piled in, anxious to get to their destination. They were like peas in a pod, though a tad bit haphazard. People were standing neck to neck and I thanked god at that point, that I had grabbed a seat before it was too late. 

Just as I had said my “thank you bhagu” (bhagu being short for bhawagan/ God) there came a pleasant looking lady, dressed in a saree and stood right next to me. I say pleasant because, she had a very rural look about her, all smiles, all motherly, all loving and all encompassing and straight out of some Haryanvi village.

She was a little on the hefty side and had a huge huge (!!) tummy … I was reminded of Sethanis/ Halwai’s helwain, the type of women whose lives revolve around the kitchen, their husband and what the neighbors are up to. Her saree was hardly covering her. (It happens to people, who have become really comfortable with their saree and are a bit old and really don’t care if their assets are being ogled at).

So her huge tummy which was also quite bare was at my shoulder level. (Bare for the simple reason that saree does not cover the midriff).

As the rickety bus maneuvered on busy Delhi roads, picking up passengers, the ladies tummy came closer to my shoulder.

After few stops it was comfortably resting on my shoulder. An inch or more of it had nestled there and was quite comfortable with that arrangement. It had found its comfort zone and a support system, to uplift it… as gravity was doing its job well.

So there I was stuck in a crowded bus, a tummy on my shoulder; my stop a good 30 minutes away and a lady who refused to acknowledge the fact that my shoulder space was being violated. (Hello!! It was on me!)

As the tummy stayed comfortably nestled on my shoulder I vowed never to travel in busses and not grab the aisle seat the next time. I also vowed that I will pay ten times more and take an Auto Rikshaw and I prayed (oh god I prayed!) that the bus doesn’t get more crowded lest the tummy reaches my cheek.

Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwww!!! Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!

Bhagu !! Where were you when I needed you?

I am sure you were too busy chuckling away to shoulder this problem!!