Just Desserts

Written By

Chitra Doraiswami

Just Desserts Loading

Oh, it bugs me! When I hear of girls being teased, molested, groped — it just burns me up. But, there is justice in this world after all!

This happened way back in the mid ‘Nineties. My husband was posted in Delhi. We lived in Central Delhi and I worked in Amity School, Saket. The school bus did not ply in our area so I had to make do with public transport. In other words, a DTC bus.

Going wasn’t too bad but getting back was hideous. The bus was usually crowded and we were all jammed in together, all perspiring freely…a nasty, smelly ride. It was the 2.45 bus to Barakhamba Road and the conductor though young, was well on his way to becoming a complete lout.

Those days, in Delhi buses, the conductor sat tight right at the back. The public passed the fare money down to him and he sent the ticket up to the passengers.

I saw a vacant spot next to the conductor and I had almost settled in when he rudely turfed me out. ‘You can’t sit here, Aunty. She is going to sit here,’ he yelled and made a nubile young thing behind me, sit next to him.

As usual all the women grumbled at his misbehavior and all the men pretended not to know that something was amiss. This reprobate then turned towards the girl and shamelessly ogled her. She was so spooked by his gawking, she got off at the next stop. Then, in came this large, robust Haryanvi woman and plonked herself on that seat in a swirl of skirt and dupatta.

He glared at her and said, ‘Chal, uth…’ (you, get up). This didn’t go down well with her. ‘Are you speaking to me? ’she asked.

‘Yes,’ says our surly Joe, ‘There is no place here for you…’

‘What, don’t I give you money too?’ she asked and grabbed his shirt front and let off a string of profanities that frankly, I didn’t understand but it made most of the men very uncomfortable.

The creep froze. Nobody else had ever let him have what he so richly deserved.

All the women burst out laughing. If we could have we would have clapped, but we were still strap hanging.

He went ashen and just sat there, numb. She let go of him after a final, minatory shake.

Sad to say I had reached my stop and so I can’t say how it played out, but victory was ours, don’t you think?

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chitra Doraiswami, 69, is from Bangalore. She has written for many publications such as the Deccan Herald, The Times, Femina, Eve’s Weekly, etc. Chitra has many an interesting tale to tell including the one about finishing her Masters along with her son; sadly “only” getting a First Class, where her son got a rank. She joined CMR, NPS as Headmistress two decades ago and is now known as the Associate Principal of the institution. She also has a sixteen year old grandson. Chitra is an avid dancer, reader and drama-enthusiast. She's traveled extensively with her husband who was in the IAF. She taught wherever they were posted. Chitra enjoys teaching people innovative ways of helping children learn, but she is definitely not the prototypical fluffy grandma!

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