One day I was travelling in a DTC bus. I usually have a bad habit of not buying tickets in any DTC bus journey. That day I was returning with my friend after attending our coaching classes. As usual, we boarded a DTC bus. My friend told me, “Rakesh, tu mere liye ticket le liyo (Rakesh, take my ticket, too).” But as usual, I took tickets for neither of us. When my friend later asked if I have got the tickets, I replied I have not. Then he got worried and got very angry with me. After sometime I felt that I must after all buy the ticket. So then I took the ticket for both of us. After sometime the bus suddenly stopped and the ticket checkers boarded the bus. We both were safe now as we had the tickets with us. I thank God that He had saved us from the penalty money. From that day I always buy ticket on the DTC bus.
— Rakesh Samal
It was yet another morning when I was travelling in the Delhi metro. The rush was at its peek. Office goers, students and everyone else were heading towards their work places. It was as if everyone was in hurry. As if America’s Wall Street would collapse if people did not reach on time. (Ha ha.) It is amazing to watch people like this. Well, I got down at Rajiv Chowk and took the connecting Metro to Dwarka. You know what: Entering in the Metro that goes to Noida or Dwarka, and once inside, getting a
place to stand in, is like fighting in the third world war. And yet I feel that the Metro is the best thing that could have happened to Delhi.
— Anjali Vasvani
Just yesterday, me and my friend boarded the heavily crowded Metro in Rajiv Chowk. At the very next station, a very old man, probably in his 80s, boarded too. Though it was clearly visible that he was having trouble standing, no one cared to offer him a seat. I asked a man reading a newspaper to offer his seat to the gentleman... pat came his reply: “Old persons ki seat aage hai (Old people’s seat is ahead) .” The people sitting next to him also refused to budge. When I persisted, they all started looking here and there as if no one was talking to them. Disappointed, I turned to the old man who just replied, “Koi baat nahi beta, ye to hamesha
hi hota hai (Don’t bother, child. It always happen like that).” Well, that’s Delhi etiquettes.
— Anam Ghani