Of how the thundu guy became just another guy

Just another dreary Saturday afternoon on a slow moving L70. I'd boarded the bus very near Ambattur (its starting point) and hence was able to secure a seat in the only place with enough leg room - the row at the very end, which is usually the very last place that other non-leg-room-challenged folk would choose because of the innumerable speed bumps.

But me, no, I don't get such luxuries and I've actually kindaa gotten used to it. Although my fellow passengers always have a weird look on their face whenever they see me decline a seat for so trivial a reason such as lack of leg room. Anyway thats beside the point and I will probably talk about it in a future post.

So there I was minding my own business seated at the fag end of the bus when along came the Thundu Guy and sat down right beside me. I wasn't too perturbed because these guys aren't much of a problem after they've attained nirvana ( in their case it is the act of securing a seat). Boy, was I wrong!

On a crowded bus waiting at a traffic junction in the sweltering Chennai heat it can be said with certainty that the likelihood of a good ol' fight is very high. And hence all personnel not trained in the fine art of bus banter and bickering must make way for worthier competitors. We'd just reached Padi and the bus was boarded by Bijli. I have no words to describe her. Suffice to say that even if Narasimha were to touch her then either Captain would be the one electrocuted or the entire Universe would implode. She was Vijay Shanthi + Sornakka + Neelambhari , all rolled into one.

Now the back row in a bus is a topic of fierce debate between the two genders of commuters. Whether its allotted to the fairer sex or if its free for all is still unclear. Me, I don't take any chances. I'm used to standing in buses, so what difference does it make if I were to stand for that extra couple of minutes. Unfortunately I'd just then gotten a call and was pretty busy on the phone when suddenly I realised I was about to be caught in the cross fire between Bijli and the Thundu guy. The initial barbs had already been thrown and bijli was ready to unleash her rage. Having seen a few such scenes in person, I did what every guy on that back row should have done. I fled that area. The fact that bijli's arguments were drowning out my mother on the other end also weighed pretty heavily in my decision to move to quieter surroundings.

By the time I'd disconnected the call I could see that bijli was really at the very top of her game. And the Thundu guy, was not gonna just sit around when he was being dis-nirvana-ted. When cornered, the two options available to any organism is Fight or Flight, and in choosing the former, the thundu guy made the biggest mistake of his life. What followed was a verbal bashing of the 2 generations on either side of the thundu guy's family. The thundu guy just about managed to drop the cliched 'Do you know who i know' line only to be confronted with an astute listing of possible characteristics that he and his 'political' friends possessed.

I am a good fan of a well paced "Podi" like the one in this song, but to use that as your only convincing insult repeatedly after the kindaa barbs that you've been getting. Lets just say that the journey from Padi to CMBT was a lot of things for a lot of people.

Entertaining as hell for everyone but one soul.
Hell for that one soul.
Educative for me.(all those new word-combos I wasn't imaginative enough to think up earlier...)
Life Affirming for bijli.

Much like Padayappa's thundu which falls to the ground at the end of the most amaklamatic scene of Tamil cinema, everyone on that bus saw that metaphorical thundu fall to the ground. And right then... the Thundu guy became just another guy.

The Thundu Guy

What is it with Indians and seats?

Right from the political big wigs battling it out with their coalition partners for that one last assembly seat. The wannabe doctor who shells out my entire decade's salary on 1 medical college seat. Or the much more easily observed species, the thundu guy.

Now the thundu guy is not easily identifiable unless he is in his natural habitat, which is either a railway station or a bus stand. The characteristic home stretch speed and the dexterous throw of the thundu through the window is a sight to behold. Over the years, our thundu guy has evolved into his post modern metrosexual equivalent, the paunch guy. So how do you identify this sub species.

1. Yet another Che t shirt? check.
2. Headphones? check.
3. Swanky laptopbag? check.
4. New fastrack watch? double check.
5. Nike shoes. check. Yup thats him.

Now we don't call him the Paunch guy for a purely numerical reason based on the items listed above.

The Paunch AKA Potbelly AKA (in our more expressive vernacular tongue) the thoppai.

Now how does this guy secure a seat? The power of the primordial belly is put to good use here. Since the laptop is too expensive to be used as a seat securer, it cannot be used as a substitute for the timeless thundu. So what does he do? He uses his belly. I kid you not when I say that on a crowded PTC bus, the power of the belly is too much to take. You will wilt eventually and vacate the standing spot right next to the aisle seat, in obeisance to the belly bearer. This way he gets the seat once the present occupant empties the seat.

Of course there are under developed variants which lack the vital belly but still make a fight for the seat. They use one of several techniques like the Pelvic push or Errant Elbow or the Slighly-risky-not-to-be-tried-at-home Salsa Leg Lock. Anyhow the moment I see one of these guys making a beeline for the seat, I get out of the firing zone.

In fact even if a seat right next to me were to suddenly be empty and even if there's no belly-bugger in a 10m radius I would still not take the seat. Not out of any misplaced sense of benevolence. Its not that I don't want to sit. The fact of the matter is most of the times I can't sit. The travails of the too tall traveler.