Looking Out the Window

I got up in a public bus the other day, and found it packed. Packed in the sense, no one was standing, but there was no sitting space either: there was a passenger to every seat. But then I noticed that towards the front of the bus, there was this one seat by the aisle that was vacant. It was one of a two-seater; the seat by the window was occupied by a man. Down the length of the bus, the aisle divided the two seaters into two categories, the left side was reserved for ladies, and the right side was for gents. I sat down, noticing a large woman sitting opposite to me, across the aisle. I say "large", because that was indeed what she was: five feet nine inches tall, and with a girth of nearly two and a half feet at the waist (by my estimates, which often turn out to be wrong in the negative side), and quite young too. I looked out of the window, thinking: "size does matter!!" and feeling the emotional equivalent of this smiley: [;)]. The lady in question was talking on her cell, and I faintly remember her saying something like: "Oh I'm so sorry! It seems you'll get up from the stoppage after the one I get down at…"

I was looking out of the window, thinking about the ill effects of obesity, and how I would never become fat, when I heard someone say: "Please, have my seat!" Someone must be offering a seat to an old person, I thought. And then the oddity struck: it was a woman's voice. I turned my attention to the inside of the bus, and gaped. Miss Large was offering her seat to an old man who had just boarded the bus. The next stoppage was half a kilometer away and there was no way she would be able to sit until someone got down.

I looked out of the window again, ashamed and embarrassed. This was the first time in my life I saw a woman offer her seat to some old person. And an old man at that! I had seen from experience and observation that, women were so pampered with courtesy that they themselves seldom showed any semblance of it themselves. Case in point is this incident: I had never, I repeat, never, seen a young lady offer her seat to any old man or woman before. Cases of men getting up to offer their seats to some old or incapacitated person are frequent; but this was a first of its kind. And here I was making fun of the lady, I reproached myself.

I stole an admiring glance at Miss Courteous, and found her talking on the cell phone again, probably to the same person that she'd been talking to earlier, for she concluded with: "Yeah, I'll be just getting down at the next stoppage…. I'll tell him, yes…Good bye!" I heaved a sigh of thankfulness. At least, she would not have to stand for too long! The bus gradually slowed down. Miss Broadminded made to go, and even as she was gathering the straps of her vanity bag on to her shoulders and adjusting her hair, she told the old man: "A lady will get up in the next stoppage (which was a minute away). I've told her you're sitting here. Please leave the seat to her when she boards the bus. This is a ladies' seat." And she got down. The man stared blankly at her when she spoke; then got up immediately. I rose to offer him my seat, but he waved his hand and said in a tone that pre-empted any persuasion: "I'd prefer to stand."

I sat down and looked out of the window.