The tale of two cities

So like Suriya in Varanam Aayiram I decided to leave my city in search of a girl. Now that we have established all that I am going to type underneath is going to be as truthful as the first sentence we shall start every sentence with 'I wish'. 


Due to my extraordinary interests in research and outstanding academic records (read as invaluable favor and a derisive snort) I got an opportunity to intern at a famous institute in Bombay. I was all excited about spending my time away from home for a month (turning 20 and all that shizz). So I bid adieu to my family and boarded a train to Bombay a.k.a 'Amit land'. Tickets were booked but sadly I did not get a berth to sleep on. But since I was used to staying up all night and sleeping during the day I thought I can exchange berths with the non-nocturnal people. Brilliantly worked out plan, that was.


I am not sure if it was Andhra or Karnataka, mostly because the station names reminded me of Diwali sweets, people decided to demonstrate the power of the Indian population. People entered the train in tens. It was like the labor ward in some hospital. One moment there were snoring uncles and the next it was filled with kids looking at you like you are a Tyrannosaurus rex at the Museum of natural history. 


I mean come on. One, you don't have a ticket. Two, you don't have the right to ask me to adjust. Three, I cannot understand what you are speaking. Four, nothing I just got carried away. So due to the fear of dodging all these people I had to control my bladder and all to save my seat. Also I had to save my seat from my bladder. Too many complications.


One fellow kept smiling at me till he got a seat on the opposite side. Creepy, that was. And then I passed a few stations with names tracing the roots of swear words (Madar, Dadar and all) and then reached Mumbai. Then started the adventure. One shady taxi driver took me to the address i asked for. I couldn't find a room there. So one autodriver hi-jacked me. Then another taxi driver fought with this auto guy and hi-jacked me and made me check in into a shady hotel. I couldn't sleep only. I was scared someone would kill me and take all my luggage (Seriously :|).  Then about 7 hours after I reached Bombay I escaped and reached my institute. That's when I took a breather. That's when I started thinking clearly. And the first thought that came to my mind was "This place can never be Madras."

Dear ladies using MTC, why?

Dear ladies of Madras,

"Since everyone is quoting all kinds of nonsense and saying that I said all that, let me make my mark on this blog post also." - Mahatma Gandhi.

This is not just a blog post. This is the culmination of the outrage I have accumulated over the years and since this place is where all the open letters end up, mine shall also. 50 percent of the ladies population can perhaps relate to this post, the rest can simply read and laugh. The former, do not take it seriously and send lawyer notice and all to me. Trust me, na avlo worth piece ellam illa. (I am not worth the effort)


First of all, second of all and third of all, one big salute to you. I mean really, with so much amazingly awesomesauce talent you occupy the gents side of the MTC buses and sit like you belong there. If only a guy sits on the ladies side, one lady from each seat will start yelling "Yen pa,  ladies nikkaraanga la!"(Ladies are standing no?)  I mean wow. You want equality and reservation, is it? If I come and ask you to get up saying this is 'gents' seat, that's all. You will start one anti-me group, recruit members and collect donation before the next stop comes.


I am ok with standing also. But what I don't understand is that you ladies are standing alternatively along both the columns like one Bharathiraja dance sequence and making it difficult for men to walk inside the bus. The conductor is also one paavam fellow. Apart from all this you will give one look. I am seriously asking, you think we wake up at 6 o'clock, brush teeth with close up, drink bru coffee, wear pant sattai, run behind the bus and all to come stare at you or rub against you? 


Whilst the process of engaging my superior colliculus on serious thoughts like "Will the canteen have Masala Dosai during lunch or not?" and other first world problems, we accidentally look at you. Or may be you look pretty and we look at you. That's all. Finish. You will picture a scene where Mahmood Ghazni is looting and pillaging Somnath temple where we men are Ghazni and you are, well do the math.  If I give my bag also you won't carry. You will give one expression that will seem like I asked you to carry my child. 


Nobody wants to travel in bus ok? If you stand near the door and ask evreryone to go inside followed by the most conscience less dialogue ever "Ulla avloo edam iruke pa!" (There is so much space inside no?) when all the men inside including the conductor are standing like dogs before transformers, what will we do? 


One special service for students were started. That also you started occupying. Now they call it the students/ladies bus service. Why is there no gents service? This and all if I ask I will come off as one male chauvinistic anti feminist posh scene putting boy who can't adjust with reality.
Most of the boys turned like this only after getting off 21G or 21L.


Slighta understand the situation. Cut down the drama, a little bit. Because, a journey of a thousand miles begins with an MTC season ticket.


Yours sincerely,
Yet another footboard commuter.