The problem of the bottom

I went to a small mofussil town where I could find no mode of transport for a short displacement save the ubiquitous “town bus”. My exhilaration on finding a tiny rexined real estate to place my posterior with equanimity was terribly short-lived when a big amazon of a matron attached to a mammoth paunch and a lipless, mirthless mouth, gruffly indicated that the seat that I had occupied was reserved for the “seat” of the femina. But what a seat that was! Though wondering if the space vacated could do jutice the vital statistics of the prospective percher – but having read the bold panel declaring that the seat was for the “ladies”, I had no choice but to change my orientation to the vertical and make an unchivalrous abdication of the throne.

But my bruised mind was wondering why almost all the ladies who peremptorily insist on your getting up from ladies’ seats look soul-less and unlookable! May be I should add this quiz to my list of frustables.

While still at this issue, I am reminded of this poetic musing of a correspondent in the popular English newspaper, “The Hindu”. It goes like this:-

“Why reserve for Ladies fair
Seats that carry equal fare
Reserve for the ladies unfair
Respect sentiment, though rare.

It will be nice to sit in pairs
With no anxiety or silly cares
Touch of skin to skin no sin in pairs
Oh, silly, who cares!

Today’s handsome girls will dare
And are not frightened timid hare
To lure the boys and go anywhere
With tight-fit jeans and short-cut gear!

They can sit and stand anywhere,
They are not botanical specimens rare
Drink and dance, wear and tear no care,
They are biological models who can dare!

All the ladies are not deers;
Nor all Romeos burly bears.
Shoulders bare attract the bear
So, better you dress with modest care.

Show your charm, no harm
With feelings warm.
Trust begets trust-you see
For my advice, no fee!

Have a heart, me hearties, to the male of the species!

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