BTS and IFS

Bangalore Transport Service in itself is a mini world which the denizens who possess two and four wheelers miss unknowingly in the name of saving time. This service has been a source of several articles which if any daily would care to compile would form a bestselling compendium by itself and may also have to be released in volumes. The regulars of this service as well as a few guests would readily vouch the fact that the service provides a rich diet for any cartoonist who would like to create multiple caricatures. For three decades I have been a regular in the service and can sample out a few to entice many folks to leave their prized vehicles behind.
Any four wheeler today boasts of a stereo set which enables the passengers to tune into the FM stations, track the traffic jams, enliven themselves as they contribute to the chaos around. Even in those good old days many of the enterprising crew of the BTS had installed stereo sets which would blare the choice hit music of the season. Young boys in the bus would swing to the music despite the constraint of space and the load of their backpacks. Collegians would resort to foot tapping which was an art by itself. There would be hardly any space but the tapping of the foot should be as deft to land at the vacant space or the toes of another collegian. These practices of art led to some elderly persons rebuking the youngsters in chaste Kannada which was popularly referred to in our circles as Sanskrit. The conductors were veritable trapeze artistes who could swing across the crowded bus with their moneybags intact unlike many of their counterparts in the other cities. They also were masters in crowd control, excellent diplomats and knew when to blow hot or cold. Their mastery in languages made us wonder why much was being made out of the mastery of languages of the then premier Narasimha Rao. They would also remember the requests in various tones, tenors and vernaculars to be told of the stop to be alighted at.
This actually brings to fore an experience hard to forget. It was one of those box office hit days when the bus which had a seating capacity of about 40 was stacked with not less than 180 souls. The conductor baritoned the name of the stop and asked the persons to alight. Seeing no movement, he commanded, “Who was that 4 tickets person who wanted to alight here? Do you want to make your family walk a mile?” At this a man moved and pushed his way through to the door as the pushovers sermonized him on his negligence in not reacting at the first time. Another suggested, “If you feel that you are the emperor of all that you survey why do you not take an auto instead of holding a bus to ransom?” The third chimed in “ these guys come for sightseeing and we are in doldrums and my boss will talk about leaving early and reaching office in time. How do I factor these souls in my timing scheme?” Having successfully alighted the man moved towards the front door which was the entry and exit point for the womenfolk. He started saying “I am Appanna, green saree, blue saree get down.” The persons in the bus vented their exasperation. The conductor told the man to call them by name. The poor soul responded, “How can I take the name of our household women in public?” A census of all blue and green saree was conducted with relationship to Appanna and finally two green sarees and one blue saree was successfully disembarked.
In the meantime the conductor fielded a number of pressing instructions which would put a Karan Thapar in shade. Some were insisting that the bus leave while others questioned the legitimacy of the conductor in allowing the single person to hold everyone to ransom. Others were asking him whether the bus was his proprietory one or whether the person concerned was related to him or had paid him more. But the man in charge of these affairs was undaunted. He smiled and replied “Just imagine if it were your sister or mother would you not want them to disembark at the right place” In the event of the IFS facing a shortage of skilled diplomats, it is my considered opinion that these valiant soldiers should be allowed to face the barrage of queries and we know that our foreign policy would be safe in their hands. After all this, the man would just curl his lips and give out the whistle ( which is now far and few) as a signal which the driver would obediently pick up to rev the engines alive again.