There’s a certain rudeness in intruding into the personal space of another, and there’s a certain shamelessness in not conceding a millimetre in the face of such audacity.
The tall young man walked up to the counter like his dad owned the sun and everything under it – typical of some of God’s favourite men in Delhi.
As he did that, his well-defined potbelly, a little premature for his blemishless skin, pressed into my left elbow. He didn’t care that he was in physical contact with an absolute stranger twice his age and half his height. It seemed he expected me to give way.
I didn’t.
He continued to press. I continued to stand firm as my elbow dug further into his “papa’s gift” sign of prosperity.
Our eyes met. He gave me a surprised look. I replied with a blah face.
I think I succeeded in moving him emotionally. Because he moved away physically and I completed my purchase.
However, I’m sure his rudeness remains as intact as my shamelessness remains undisturbed.