Place : Erode Bus stand, Tamil Nadu (India).
20-01-2013, 16 49 hours
I was exhausted, waiting for a bus. Sitting throughout the travel was the crucial cause (though mind had it to grab a window seat at the centre of the bus).
Pongal holidays were over and it's time to return to the routine. A week back the headlines read that special buses were arranged to reduce the rush. No one cares about the return journeys I suppose.
The conductor wouldn't let me in till it was 4.55. Soon, around 50 people had rushed gathering in front of each door of the bus. Sadly, I was the one at the front and had to suffer for everyone's loading their luggage on me forward to gain entry.
The stench out of pay toilets was irritating. The spit pan-saliva concentrate from the nearby bus window traveled a parabolic trajectory to land just away from my white coloured pants. It reminded me of the "mukesh" of awareness trailer in theaters.
Vendors switched buses selling pens that could write in 4 different colours, burfis, and hand kerchiefs. The sambhar packet fallen off from someone carrying parcel meals, was smashed hard by a walker and was inviting buzzing houseflies.
One by one, people started to lament their urge to get in. Oh, we still have 6 hard minutes for that. So they talked it out.
Mr.X had been travelling in train the week before in the lavatory of unreserved compartment in the train from MAS to ED. And added he had 5 companies all noses covered with their kerchiefs !
XX responded in awe and cried for having chosen a wrong choice in the last election. Every single problem of Indian citizen came out and i could see no one was satisfied with any of the choices left. Each party seemed to have its own defects. Yet, the government was running successfully.
Out of all the non-sense things i could hear, came a distinct sound gradually descending. brrrrrrr ... brr... br.
Gosh! Let this be over already.
After a few strange looks and whispers, people were back on track (!!!) to talk off the time remaining. Men talks ... the scorching sun, failing rain, dirty bus stand, next election choices, pongal release movies, cine-gossips, huff ... ! Is there something in the world, people cannot talk on ?
At last, it was 4.54 and the conductor had the mercy to let us in. Words won't suffice to describe the stampede. Though I was standing just front of the door, it wasn't I who entered first. The bag I carried pulled down my specs and I went searching for it only to grab it from the feet of a pot bellied white dhoti man. When I boarded in, I could get only the left end seat of the last row.
I felt totally relieved. I felt like a successful king after a war, sitting majestic on the throne; wind from the side window was as if a smile faced girl fanning me with peacock feathers.
Soon, the conductor came rushing through the army of sepoys to drive me up.
It was his seat.
After a few strange looks and whispers, people were back on track (!!!) to talk off the time remaining. Men talks ... the scorching sun, failing rain, dirty bus stand, next election choices, pongal release movies, cine-gossips, huff ... ! Is there something in the world, people cannot talk on ?
At last, it was 4.54 and the conductor had the mercy to let us in. Words won't suffice to describe the stampede. Though I was standing just front of the door, it wasn't I who entered first. The bag I carried pulled down my specs and I went searching for it only to grab it from the feet of a pot bellied white dhoti man. When I boarded in, I could get only the left end seat of the last row.
I felt totally relieved. I felt like a successful king after a war, sitting majestic on the throne; wind from the side window was as if a smile faced girl fanning me with peacock feathers.
Soon, the conductor came rushing through the army of sepoys to drive me up.
It was his seat.
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