I have come to realize over the past one week that this world is full of shameless people. I define, herein, a shameless act as one that is borne out of the sheer desperation to obsess over your own self and fulfill your own selfish needs without thinking for a nanosecond about the other person/people in the scene (there were other people, you ask? Yeow. Selfish. Shameless).
I am usually lost in my own sweet world when I step out of the house and am a lot more dazed when I am traveling. So for me to sit up and take notice of these acts of shamelessness in fact means that the world has generally been a whole lot shameless in the last one week, possibly hitting new records.
I will try and explain these acts by segregating them into degrees [Did you not read about the Monica bit on my homepage?].
Degree 1
Nature of action: Sneaky
Act: It is Republic day and I have to reach SoBo [That's South Bombay for townies, or the Sobo-ites, apparently] at 12:30. The clock strikes 12. I dismount from a dinchak rickshaw to see a seerrpenntiineee queue for the tickets [were they ALL waiting for the weekend to happen?]. Five missed trains later [it's sheer torture watch them go by just because you dont happen to have that lil piece of cardboard], I get ready, armed with change, ready to roll over the coins when the ticket guy asks me to do so…when this swanky girl approaches me and asks me in a hushed tone if I can buy her a ticket to Peddar Road. Three things cross my mind:
- There is no station called Peddar Road, darling. It’s Grant Road.
- You think I am a moron, having stood in the goddamned queue for aeons, warding off the overzealous, smelly haired men while you get a ticket for looking like Heidi?
- You HAVE to earn the ticket the right, hard way. Stand in the queue. It would do me good, experiencing that feeling of gratification—a.k.a sadistic pleasure.
Considering it was the Mere desh ki dharti-cum-of the people, for the people, by the people day, I chose the better way out:
“It wouldn’t be fair on the people, you see, who have been waiting here since ages for the same purpose. Please stand in the queue; it’s the right way”
*flashes a smile a la Ravishankar*
Girl scowls.
Degree 2
Nature of action: Ungrateful
Act: I stood by my principles, I say to myself. The freakshow standing behind me in the queue now tells me
“She seemed to be in a hurry. Must’ve been something urgent. You could’ve said yes.”
Freakshow 2 who’s standing ahead of me nods in agreement.
Why you freaks! Had I said “yes,” you wouldve muttered under your breaths and wished me all sorts of bad luck that I could without or gone one step ahead and expose my act to all present! And you think her need was urgent? Just because she had great legs and looked like a damsel in distress? What about the 80 others in the queue? Shameless, ungrateful creatures. BAH!
Degree 3
Nature of action: Pissing off
Act: We are packed like sardines in the train, as usual, and the baais are sitting cross-legged/lounging, again as usual. I am hanging out of the train, holding on for dear life [I prefer this over smelly armpits/chins or arms resting on your shoulders/the nauseating smell of jasmine + hair oil] when one aunty opens her son’s zipper and urges him to go ahead an pee on the tracks! Woman! are you out of your MIND! It’s a freaking moving train and I DONT WANT SPLASHES OR DROPLETS!
But what other alternative did she have? She couldnt get out and it was the kid…ok, you are excused. Somewhat.
Degree 4
Nature of action: Unpatriotic
Act: It’s one day after Republic day and we [India, represented by Sania and Mahesh] are in the finals of the mixed doubles of the Australian Open. They look terrible together, the lack of co-ordination apparent. One set down; one more loses the match. Sania in her pretty outfit misses a shot for the umpteenth time. And FLASHES HER WHITES. It was not even sardonic! For what joy, woman?!!? Pardonable? I don’t think so.
Degree 5
Nature of action: Greedy
Act: This is a rickshaw guy episode. Yes. We can write volumes on their shamelessness—be it slowing down when the signal’s green (so that it turns red and the meter continues to tick away) or stopping a good 5 seconds after you’ve told him to stop and then taking another 5 seconds to turn around a la a Bollywood heroine who’s been commanded to turn around by the hero, all while the meter never stops ticking. This act is the most common one that leaves everyone frustrated—the case of the jumping meter. So the meter’s showing a reading that’s a good 4 values more than what it should be and that too on a day minus any traffic or delays. Very sarcastically, I ask the driver if the auto was from Delhi:
Kyun bhaiyya, gaadi Dilli ki hai?
[Delhi meters are known for their jumpy nature and the notorious drivers]
He replies in the negative and asks me why I asked him that in the first place.
Nahin, Bombay ke meters aise jump nahin karte na; usually it’s 4 Rupees less…
The bugger throws his head back and laughs, doesn’t bother denying it, says yes and drives off…
Degree 6
Nature of action: ???
In this majestic building that looks like a dream (where I work), there is not a point in time where ALL three lifts are functional. And everyone is always, predictably, in a rush to get to office coz invariably, they are late. At a time like this, you tick off the seconds and floors only to watch the lift get stuck on the 3rd floor. The lifts at the other entrance are now functional. There’s a scurry and the race begins. I dont get there quick enough and the first lift’s full. Fine. I’ll wait for the second elevator then. After what seems like an eternity, the doors of heaven open. By now, there’s a crowd. Some souls just elbow their way into the lift while some yell at them coz they were the latecomers but nevertheless they ALL get into it. Some like me are left gaping while the liftman says: Full ho gaya. Only 8 people allowed.
Such is life, dearies.
