Gendered Spaces on Wheels

Did you know that buses in Bangalore are strictly gendered spaces? Seats are labelled and assigned: ‘ladies’, ‘physically challenged’, ‘women senior citizens’, and ‘men senior citizens. All grouped together, under single designated seat, sometimes. New and insightful way of looking at vulnerability! If you don’t fit into these categories, but still sit in one of these seats, these categories may materialize and claim it. In some cases, the conductor looks offended and asks you to just stand, even when there are no claimants. The other seats are open battlegrounds. Strategy rules there.

The Unwritten Rules of Giving Up Your Seat If you are a woman

Even when seats aren’t labelled, if you are a young and healthy woman, you are simply expected to give up your seat for someone more deserving. Funny thing is, it is always a woman who is expected to give up her seat. I have seen a seat being requested from a man, only once. That rare instance, he down right refused to give it up to his differently abled claimant! It escalated, argument ensued, finally conductor had to intervene. Some women do try out certain strategies to not give up their precious seats. This included pretending to be deeply engrossed in a book, or lost in music. Some pretends to be asleep, while a few manage with very unfriendly stares. But aching feet is not the only reason why these women hesitate.

The Bulldozing Conductors

Most conductors, usually male, barrel through crowded aisles with little or no regard for personal spaces. They quite literally bulldoze their way past, women, unapologetically. Some of us try to rationalize it, “we’re all just physical bodies in a cramped space”, but that doesn’t help with a creeping dread every time they shove past. Occasionally, I’ve heard and even considered, so far only jokingly about carrying safety pins to deter these aggressive passes; but most women simply resign. If one reacts, there is a sudden stop, a quick lesson on delaying other commuters for women teaching them to ‘behave’. The unspoken warning is – in order to get to your destination on time, let the conductors do their job! So, women acquiesce – we behave, we shrink.

There are a few exceptions though, among conductors, both male and female, who hand over tickets with a gentle consideration, who respect our personal space. Their way of working makes a world of real difference. It feels like a rare breath of fresh air, and brings a feeling of safety and joy to commuting.

Enforcing Gender Spaces

The gender segregation doesn’t end here. Some conductors enforce it right on entry point.  Women must use the front door and men, the back door. If you try switching, you’re reprimanded. Even when the designated door is overcrowded.  

This stigma extends to where one can sit as well – empty back-end seats are off-limits for women and the same goes for men on front seats, even when the designated seats are full. A woman at the back of the bus needs a male companion for permission to be there and vice versa. Otherwise, one confronts everything ranging from raised eye brows, and questioning glances and bulldozing by the opposite gender.  

Why I Still Choose the Bus

It’s not like anyone is forcing me to take a bus. I can afford a vehicle. I know how to drive. But in this traffic, a one-and-a-half-hour commute is not for everyone. Driving every day does not appeal to me. I find buses easy compared to having to step on breaks or honk and cut through the unmerciful traffic, every day. When I take an auto or Uber, I’m alone with the driver. The horror stories of kidnapping or being led astray haunts me.

There are a number of safe drives where nothing untoward happens. You hire a cab, just get to your destination and go about your life. But unfortunately, there are also the ones where mishaps do take place.  I remember a hired cab ride. It was not along a bus route and it was relatively late. The driver began playing ‘Vasigaraa’ a romantic song, on full blast, with the video. As intimate scenes unfolded onscreen, I couldn’t tell if he was watching the road or the video. If I dared pointed this out, then he could very well have left me stranded or worse. I stayed quiet.

Safety in Chaos

So yes, despite the bulldozing, the shrinking, the silent strategizing, I still choose the bus.  Because sometimes, the chaos feels safer than solitude. But shouldn’t we imagine more for women commuters, where they aren’t expected to dodge, disappear, or strategize for comfort and safety? Why must ‘sensitive conductors’ be the exception and not the rule?

Isn’t it time we reimagined public transport not as a last resort—but as a first, feminist choice? A shared space where respect isn’t a luxury, but a right.