Showing posts with label Women's Coach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Women's Coach. Show all posts

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Women's Dabba- Delhi Metro

I tried to board the train in the first compartment, hoping that I could get to spend some peaceful moments with my, the then girlfriend. But, I guess, the lady dressed in blue manning (or womanning?) the entry point appeared too huge (and too out of love) to understand, and to be overcome with our puppy dog faces. So I chose to enter from the second compartment instead, and met my girlfriend at the junction, which was the sole “hangout zone” for distressed couples like us looking at each other with sympathetic solace. The other option was to enter in the other five (or was it three back then?) coaches, and bear with the tharki uncles, lecherous labourers and the “cool metro dudes” gawking down at my chick. Obviously I took the former, given that I’m not exactly a huge guy (in terms of height *frowns*), that can form a 1 km periphery around a girl. Neither was the girl I was dating, that tiny.

So, this brings me to the basic question, of questioning the questionability of the questionable act of having reserved dabbas for women in the Delhi Metro, when you’re already giving them reserved seats in each dabba. I mean, today, when I spend around 2.5 hours commuting in the Metro, to Gurgaon (the place home to the hottest girls in the country), and given that I am single, and it is okay for me to checkout girls, I feel sad that I don’t have ANY to gawk at. Agreed that people that get on or get off at C.P. aren’t exactly ones you’d call gentlemen, but, hey, they deserve a chance, at least ones like me, who don’t stare, do. But having said that, with all the complexity I could have, I say, the committed guys have it tougher. They can’t gawk at pretty girls and their own girlfriends, due to the freedom provided by the Special dabba can dress up, let’s just say, in ways they wouldn’t if there weren’t a special dabba. True Story. So it has its own benefits too. Add to that, the indecent pushing and shoving is done away with, much to the relief of many 45year old dads whose daughters just started with college.

But, what about all the “women walk shoulder to shoulder with men today” mottos? Do you really need a whole dabba which perennially is empty, while we civilized people have to sniff at the armpits of some illegal immigrant from the eastern side who chews paan in the metro, and often throws it out too, and who smells like my 5 day old pair of socks, or even worse? Is it fair, for you to sit down and breathe the air conditioned air at peace, probably even work on your laptop, when some dude, almost measures my inseams, or brushes his butts against mine (much to my discomfort)? Is it cool that I pay the same for a ride like that? I don’t think so.

Bottom line, I hate the concept of the women’s dabba. I haven’t tried riding in it, owing much to widespread fear, courtesy YouTube videos of men getting beaten up by the "FUCKING" moral police of our city. I, and a billion other men, would really appreciate if some of you daring women out there would take a shot at the Godfrey Philips Bravery Awards this year by travelling on this side of the world for a change.

DISCLAIMER 1: PPL FROM BIHAR ARE A PART OF OUR COUNTRY. THEY ARE NOT BEING REFERRED TO, CONTRARY TO THE BELIEF. A chunk of my friends are frm Bihar, and that statement was in no way demeaning to ppl frm our country. All of us know the meaning of the word "IMMIGRANT". It refers to ppl who illegally have come to our country from OUTSIDE of the Eastern Border.

DISCLAIMER 2: I have nothing against ppl throwing away cigarette butts or toffee wrappers on the side of the road, coz THEY CAN BE PICKED UP by cleaners, SPIT on the other hand can not and leaves stains, vanalising architecture for a longer duration.

DISCLAIMER 3: If you cant take a post in light humor, go Beep yourself, coz thats how I write, and will write. You're advised to not read my blog.