Random Thoughts of a Random Respectable Bhadralok

I am a very respectable person. A retired public servant. From a good family. You know, a respectable family, of respectable society. I was a senior executive in a respectable government enterprise. An employee of standing, much respected. Now I am retired. But I retain my respectability. Today I am travelling. From Kolkata to New Dilli. By flight. Air India, Boeing 787 Dreamliner. Executive class. I am going to spend Durga Pujo with my son at Delhi. Me and my wife. My son is at the XYZ Bank. He is a very senior manager there. He will send his office car to pick us up from T3 airport at Delhi. I am eager to meet him and my grandchildren. But I have to wait for a while for that. So I am sitting at the Kolkata airport, waiting for boarding for my flight to commence. My wife is sitting with me.
A young couple is sitting opposite us. Probably a husband-wife duo. But you can't tell for sure these days. No sindoor. No shankha pola. No mangal sutra. And of course no sari. Skin fitting jeans on both. The woman is falling all over the man, touching his hand, laying her head in his shoulders, giggling.....No sense of propriety, no sense of what behaviour is correct in a public space...So much shameless PDA. I learnt this word recently. Public Display of Affection. A bane of our times. A disease affecting all youngsters of today. I glance at my wife, sitting respectably away from me in the next chair. She is staring somewhere ahead, eyes not quite focussed. I call out to her (no names), Listen, have you brought the Bingo packet? She pulls out an orange pack from the Big Shopper at her feet. I tear it open and pull out a piece. It's spicy but tasty. I crunch into it. Just then, the girl sails into view. My teeth grind to a stop in mid crunch. Tall and thin, she is wearing her long hair loose with a funny  bun on the crown of her head. Silver colored shades and a shining pink lipstick. A thin almost transparent top sticks to her body, her woman curves sharply defined in display. And her jeans! Oh my God! They are torn in at least four places, large merciless gashes through which the bare skin of her legs are on full display. Shameless, I verbalise to my wife, pointing to the girl with my half eaten Mad Angle. My wife shakes her head, agreeing. Such lack of  a  sense of respectability, I continue. These educated women of today! Don't they have any sense of what kind of behaviour is right, what kind of behaviour is wrong? Torn jeans, body on display.....like a hussy.....When will they learn..........to behave in public.....
Quaking with righteous indignation, I finish my Mad Angles, roll and crumple my empty packet and throw it beneath my shining chrome-faux leather airport chair.