One night while waiting for an auto outside the metro station in peak rush hour, I decided to cross the street to get a plate of aloo chaat. I ascended an overpass but never got to the other side. Halfway across the overpass I stopped and looked down and I kept looking. The sight was quite enthralling. What stared back at me was the glare of the fast moving lights that shone from the headlights of cars. They were speeding their way home after a long day’s work of their drivers. I stood still, towering over the traffic below, as the walking traffic of people passed behind me. In this communion with the city, I was at peace.
— Saumya Varma
The other day I stepped into a bus at Dhaula Kuan. It was quite crowded, but I smiled when I saw a man sitting on the seat reserved for ladies. Before I could push people out of my way to get there, some other woman seized the opportunity. And before she could sit on my ‘mentally claimed’ seat, she started fighting with the man who seemed to be glued to it. He refused to get up and asked her to go somewhere else. When she said “Bahiyyyaaaa seaaatt chorrroo, yeh ladies seat hai (Brother, leave the seat. It’s reserved for ladies),” he ignored her. Other passengers kept mum. The bus conductor was mute, too. The woman was disgusted. “Array koi kuch bolega nahi kya isay (Will no one ask him)”.
Then I came to the rescue. After all, the ladies seats in buses is our right, and we women should always do what is right. With a grave expression on my face, I said, “Bhaiyaa, uth jao please (brother, get up).” Two more women joined us. Then a few more joined. I was delighted. The man finally got up muttering a few abuses under his breath. That woman immediately sat on the seat while I felt happy for leading this little victory.
— Shagun Suhail