During the early sixties, the private Madras buses in which I commuted from Poonamallee to Guindy, where I boarded the electric train to my college opposite the Madras aerodrome, were on the dot. They seldom broke down en route. The only flaw was they raced with one another. Admittedly, cut-throat competition is the mantra of free enterprise.
The 9.05 bus I caught daily was driven by Palani. He was a jovial man who would chitchat, cutting risqué jokes with his conductor Loghu. But the moment he sat behind the wheel, a metamorphosis came over him. He would look grim. An admirable thing was that he would not start the bus the moment Loghu blew the whistle or shouted ‘Po, Rights’, but would wait for a few vital seconds, so the lady with a child at the hip may settle down or an old man deposit himself on the seat.
Loghu made me sit near him adjacent to his seat at the entrance and regaled me with his rustic witticisms. He was particular about not overloading. The bus had a permitted payload of 38. Venkoba Rao, an acerbic checking inspector, would board the bus en route and report to the owner if the number overshot the cap. This lapse would entail suspension for a few days. No wonder Loghu always did a head count. There were occasions when he refused admittance to the third family member, if only two empty seats were available.
Most days, a woman, having a child at the hip and a boy with no coverage at the bottom, would be waiting near Porur. Palani would stop the bus for Loghu to collect the brass tiffin carrier that had a neatly rolled banana leaf stuck on top. A pleased Loghu, after a brief exchange with her, will shout ‘double rights’ for the bus to move.
Jagan, my college and bus mate who had an ear to the ground, told me one day in a hushed whisper that the Porur woman was Loghu’s second wife, the first one ensconced at Saidapet. “My god! Anyone at Teynampet for good measure?” I asked him. He grinned wolfishly, shrugging his shoulders. I realised sailors may not be the only ones with a wife at every port. Jagan said, “The romantic males who have a spacious heart go for more. But is not Loghu applying different yardsticks, one for the bus and one for the family by overloading?” I reflected over that nugget. “Well, every rule, including this one, has an exception,” I said. Jagan shot back with verve, “double rights!”
J S RAGHAVAN
Email: jsraghavan@yahoo.com