What is more amusing is the fact that the women offenders were as creative, if not more, than the men in offering excuses to the ticket collector.
A few days back, I boarded a local train from CST to Vashi. I was in the first class compartment—the cut bogie, also known as the video coach—because it has a window that overlooks the ladies’ compartment on the other side.
As the train moved out of Kurla station, there was a surprise inspection in both the compartments.
Even though the ladies’ coach was not as crowded as the other, the ratio of offenders found in both could be an indicator of the fact that in today’s age, women are rubbing shoulders with men in every field. There were four offenders in the ladies compartment and six in the gents.
What is more amusing is the fact that the women offenders were as creative, if not more, than the men in offering excuses to the ticket collector.
One woman claimed that she had boarded the compartment by mistake, and then nonchalantly, took out a season ticket. How could a seasoned traveller like her not know the difference between a first class and a second class compartment?
— Abdul Monim, Vashi
Going back to school
For the 50-odd women corporators, it was classroom time all over again. The municipal corporation, as part of its e-governance project, had arranged a one-day training programme on the Internet for them at the Welingkar Institute of Management.
Varied as their backgrounds were, the reactions and expressions from the batch of corporators were a sight to behold.
Some flustered over the uncontrollable movement of the mouse or opening wrong windows by mistake, while others wore a pensive expression, taking down notes diligently and listening intently.
There was the amused, gregarious group, chattering away with their ‘classmates’ and those that would rejoice at every task successfully accomplished.
Even the usually composed mayor was engrossed in the training, jotting down important points. For her, it was celebration time every time she scored at the warm up game to the course.
One may grow in years, but I suppose, the curious, playful school child in us will always stay the same.
—Ashutosh Shukla, Lower Parel
The beggar, the better
Recently, as I was about to get down from a ‘share’ taxi, I realised I didn’t have any change. Anxious that I might be facing the music from the taxi driver, I asked for change from my co-passengers, but in vain.
Making an apologetic face, I gave the taxi driver a Rs500 note. The driver, to my surprise, accepted it without any protest. What amused me, however, was that he asked a beggar standing nearby for change.
As if having read my mind, the driver, as he returned the balance, said, “His daily collection is more than mine. He even owns a flat.”
I got down, curiosity burning in me now. I looked out for the beggar, so that on the pretext of giving him alms, I’d be able to dig for details. I spotted him a little ahead, sporting a mobile phone. I changed my mind about asking him anything and turned away.
—Ananthi S, Goregaon (E)
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
)
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
)
)
)
)
)
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}
){kind=small}