Instant (in a) Camera
MG Road, Bangalore
Saturday the 26th, 10:30 pm
When walking back from the Brigade road junction to the Mayo hall bus stop on the side of the road where the auto stand is, one walks through a very dim-lit part of the pavement frequented in the day by hawkers, urchins and company shuttles waiting to pack the techies by a dozen before leaving them beyond redemption for a day. In the nights, apart from some stray tea vendors, the platform is crowded by people unknown to most. They are probably the same men every night - one can never be sure due to the lack of light - drunk, loud and usually getting ready for fist fights. Once you pass them and get adjusted to the light, you are surprised to see a dozen or so women in pairs - and in each pair, is one sumptuous woman, with a stern and masculine look on her face which when observed carefully reveals, that she just missed womanhood by a few inches and is stranded on platform nine branded as an eunuch. Next to her is a slim, dark, dangerously dressed close to 17 year old young girl, with a huge, unmistakable overdose of makeup looking around for men, occasionally walking up to some, closing into his comfort zone, smiling coyly and then walking away with him or walking back to her mentor. They let the 'kids' pass - don't bother them. But, around them hover men who probably are lorry drivers or forlorn men who lost their place in bed on a dirty brawl. They keep coming to her, smiling, touching her oddly till they are shooed away by the 'mentor'.
I had long known not to stand and stare in such environs and was walking through them while I saw an extremely cheerful girl talking to one of these men, looking as if she was thoroughly enjoying what she was doing. As I walked past, I realized her choice of words were in such utter contrast to her demeanour. It must have been a minute later when the whole pavement heard one tight slap. That cheerful girl had her palm on her cheeks and she was bursting into quick sobs. Her partner was quiet, expressionless with the same stern look on her face. I stopped and stared at them for sometime, for some strange reason transfixed, rather offended by the whole episode. The mentor then shifted her stern look at me and we saw eachother straight in the eyes.
My bus had arrived. I had to go - I turned and broke into a sprint to catch the bus. I found myself a seat far away from the maddening crowd, letting my thoughts drown in the rumble of the bus, into the array of headlights of cars, two wheelers and glitzy shopping complexes - the standing proof of the sophistication I belong to.
Saturday the 26th, 10:30 pm
When walking back from the Brigade road junction to the Mayo hall bus stop on the side of the road where the auto stand is, one walks through a very dim-lit part of the pavement frequented in the day by hawkers, urchins and company shuttles waiting to pack the techies by a dozen before leaving them beyond redemption for a day. In the nights, apart from some stray tea vendors, the platform is crowded by people unknown to most. They are probably the same men every night - one can never be sure due to the lack of light - drunk, loud and usually getting ready for fist fights. Once you pass them and get adjusted to the light, you are surprised to see a dozen or so women in pairs - and in each pair, is one sumptuous woman, with a stern and masculine look on her face which when observed carefully reveals, that she just missed womanhood by a few inches and is stranded on platform nine branded as an eunuch. Next to her is a slim, dark, dangerously dressed close to 17 year old young girl, with a huge, unmistakable overdose of makeup looking around for men, occasionally walking up to some, closing into his comfort zone, smiling coyly and then walking away with him or walking back to her mentor. They let the 'kids' pass - don't bother them. But, around them hover men who probably are lorry drivers or forlorn men who lost their place in bed on a dirty brawl. They keep coming to her, smiling, touching her oddly till they are shooed away by the 'mentor'.
I had long known not to stand and stare in such environs and was walking through them while I saw an extremely cheerful girl talking to one of these men, looking as if she was thoroughly enjoying what she was doing. As I walked past, I realized her choice of words were in such utter contrast to her demeanour. It must have been a minute later when the whole pavement heard one tight slap. That cheerful girl had her palm on her cheeks and she was bursting into quick sobs. Her partner was quiet, expressionless with the same stern look on her face. I stopped and stared at them for sometime, for some strange reason transfixed, rather offended by the whole episode. The mentor then shifted her stern look at me and we saw eachother straight in the eyes.
My bus had arrived. I had to go - I turned and broke into a sprint to catch the bus. I found myself a seat far away from the maddening crowd, letting my thoughts drown in the rumble of the bus, into the array of headlights of cars, two wheelers and glitzy shopping complexes - the standing proof of the sophistication I belong to.
posted by Rathish at 9:42 AM
4 Comments:
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Dropped by from Kumari's blog. Really nice writing !
Don't know quite what to say about your incident. I could get into the whole tirade about the 'industry' as such, but I just don't have the energy for it... thinking about what things around us are becomming, makes me tired. Really tired.
thanks Vignesh :) Felt the same way too - but you know like everytime, they just drown into an abyss once I get back to the world of swishing cash, and lines of code. Sometimes, I wish I could just wave a wand and weed these ills off! :)
Why does it always happen to you? :)
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