Temporary Insanity
The Mumbai local train ticket-checkers have a very clever method of operation. I can't think of a better name for the method other than 'randomness'. On no, don't get fooled by the simplicity of the term. This is actually a very clever method. By ensuring that they don't fall into any pattern, they make it impossible for passengers to predict with enough accuracy whether or not there will be a ticket-check at a given time at a given station or in a given train bogey etc.
There is only one certainty that I have arrived at. The ticket checkers don't check during peak hours. Standing in the way of the ocean of people moving chaotically at a micro level but at a macro level, synchronously in one great mass, could be life-endangering. Now, that wouldn't be worth the fine collections. (pun intended)
So, often when regular passengers see that they have not been asked for tickets in like weeks, to save time rather than money, some choose to travel ticketless. It is these people who get caught when there is a ticket-check.
This morning there was a ticket-check at lower-parel station. I was witnessing one after a good 3 weeks or so. Thankfully i have taken a quarterly pass which is always there in my wallet, so I was safe. This ticker-checker was a short, frail man with a gaping, bandaged wound on one side of his forehead. He also had a very feeble voice. It sounded like the croak of a cricket. Something like that. Yes, I think its a fair description. Imagine a cricket saying "maam ticket please". Nobody really heard him. But from his gesture, we understood that he was a ticket checker. He kept stopping people by physically moving right to left and left to right to catch their attention. One woman missed him as she was busy on her mobile phone and passed by in a hurry. Now our ticket-checker smelled a rat. In one swift move he intercepted her movement just as she was a few steps beyond him. It was at this time I realized he had an unfortunate voice. He could not raise it. Maybe that's why he also nudged her elbow to ensure he got her attention and came back to his original position (where I stood with my pass waiting for him to see it so I could proceed). Now, this is when the fun began.
This woman turned around and spoke in a loud booming voice, "haath nahin lagane ka!". (don't you touch me!) I heard him say "cricket" i mean "ticket". I don't know if she heard him but she was on a full swing offensive now. "how dare you touch me?" followed by, "you only check women?" insinuating that he was a pervert. It was true that at the moment he had indeed only stopped a bunch of women. But then, there were only women passing by him that instant. We had all got off the ladies compartment and were heading out of the station in the same rhythmic haste to get to office on time. He looked at my ticket and gestured for me to carry on. While she dug into her bag for her ticket, that I surely hoped she had after the scene she was creating, she went on accusing him of touching her (elbow) and asking only women for tickets. I found it funny how he didn't offer any explanation. He just quietly carried on looking at the tickets of the various people whose attention he had caught.
I felt sorry for him. I thought she was casually misusing the rather serious issue of "sexual-harassment" to intimidate a frail, little man with a bandaged head and cricket voice. Maybe she had a fight with her husband in the morning. Maybe her rival in office had got a promotion. Maybe she really thought the ticket-checker was a pervert in need of being taught a lesson. Maybe she didn't have a ticket. Much as I was curious, I thought it would be impolite of me to stay and watch if she did produce a valid ticket. So, I left the scene lost in my own thoughts about the scene.
Something had made her angry and she started to act without convincing logic or reason. Her reaction was a little disproportionate. Anger indeed is temporary insanity.
There is only one certainty that I have arrived at. The ticket checkers don't check during peak hours. Standing in the way of the ocean of people moving chaotically at a micro level but at a macro level, synchronously in one great mass, could be life-endangering. Now, that wouldn't be worth the fine collections. (pun intended)
So, often when regular passengers see that they have not been asked for tickets in like weeks, to save time rather than money, some choose to travel ticketless. It is these people who get caught when there is a ticket-check.
This morning there was a ticket-check at lower-parel station. I was witnessing one after a good 3 weeks or so. Thankfully i have taken a quarterly pass which is always there in my wallet, so I was safe. This ticker-checker was a short, frail man with a gaping, bandaged wound on one side of his forehead. He also had a very feeble voice. It sounded like the croak of a cricket. Something like that. Yes, I think its a fair description. Imagine a cricket saying "maam ticket please". Nobody really heard him. But from his gesture, we understood that he was a ticket checker. He kept stopping people by physically moving right to left and left to right to catch their attention. One woman missed him as she was busy on her mobile phone and passed by in a hurry. Now our ticket-checker smelled a rat. In one swift move he intercepted her movement just as she was a few steps beyond him. It was at this time I realized he had an unfortunate voice. He could not raise it. Maybe that's why he also nudged her elbow to ensure he got her attention and came back to his original position (where I stood with my pass waiting for him to see it so I could proceed). Now, this is when the fun began.
This woman turned around and spoke in a loud booming voice, "haath nahin lagane ka!". (don't you touch me!) I heard him say "cricket" i mean "ticket". I don't know if she heard him but she was on a full swing offensive now. "how dare you touch me?" followed by, "you only check women?" insinuating that he was a pervert. It was true that at the moment he had indeed only stopped a bunch of women. But then, there were only women passing by him that instant. We had all got off the ladies compartment and were heading out of the station in the same rhythmic haste to get to office on time. He looked at my ticket and gestured for me to carry on. While she dug into her bag for her ticket, that I surely hoped she had after the scene she was creating, she went on accusing him of touching her (elbow) and asking only women for tickets. I found it funny how he didn't offer any explanation. He just quietly carried on looking at the tickets of the various people whose attention he had caught.
I felt sorry for him. I thought she was casually misusing the rather serious issue of "sexual-harassment" to intimidate a frail, little man with a bandaged head and cricket voice. Maybe she had a fight with her husband in the morning. Maybe her rival in office had got a promotion. Maybe she really thought the ticket-checker was a pervert in need of being taught a lesson. Maybe she didn't have a ticket. Much as I was curious, I thought it would be impolite of me to stay and watch if she did produce a valid ticket. So, I left the scene lost in my own thoughts about the scene.
Something had made her angry and she started to act without convincing logic or reason. Her reaction was a little disproportionate. Anger indeed is temporary insanity.
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