Boarding the bus
(Part 1 of this note can be found here http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=211950368830926)
Having crossed the road, I sighed in relief and turned my sight towards the bus stop in front of me. It was a brick structure with plaster rendering, a curved roof, with a bench made of concrete inside it, flanked by a metal rail in front. The space between the bench and the railing was just enough to extend one’s feet. Two teenage boys were listening to music on their mobile phone. One was occupying right edge of the bench while the other was perched on the right wall. Sun was high up and temperature was soaring to around 40 degree centigrade. The only shadow in the bus stop was occupied by a stray dog curled up to keep all his body in the shade.
The dog looked at me with displeasure, expecting to be evacuated from his cool room. I ignored the dog and the boys and stood in front of the bus stop facing the road. A number of buses passed in front of me. They had signs written in the local language and I did not have the courage to wave them to stop. Another young man dressed in Jeans without loud fashion icons, came to the bus stop and stood three meters away from me. He should know enlgish, I assumed and walked up to him.
I asked him, “I want to take a bus to sector 24, do you know which bus number should I take.”.
He looked at me and said, “These buses are going away from the city, you should take a bus from the other side of the road.” He explained to me that I have to go that metal gate and the buses will come there.
I darted accross the road, ensuring that I give enough space to oncoming traffic to apply their brakes and save themsleves from me. Having arrived back to the familiar side, I looked back at the road and felt proud of having crossed it like locals do and without irking any of the drivers with my slow and cautious manners. I walked a distance of fifty meters to the metal gate, the young man had shown me from the bus stop. It is the entrance gates of a temple guarded by a machine gun holding security guard who had been watching my dash across the road with amusement.
“I want to take a bus to sector 24, do you know when will the next bus come.”, I asked him, trying not to look at his gun.
“Free bus to sector 24! It comes sometimes. Sometimes it does not come, it has no timetable. It may come in half an hour or it may not come for two three hours. I can not tell you when it will come. For if I tell you and it does not come, I will be lying to you isn’t it, sir?”. enquired the security guard of me as he turned his head and looked towards the gods in the temple.
The temple’s spiritual atmosphere is having an effect on its guards. Even they are afraid to speak untruth lest they get damned. I was getting annoyed and decided to ask him, “When did the last bus come?”.
“Last bus, that came half an hour ago. I think the next bus might come in half an hour.”, blurted out the guard.
The heat of the mid-day was getting to me by now. I looked inside his security room which had a cooler and a fan and wondered if it is appropriate to ask his permission to stand inside his strong room and not in the dust puddle in the scorching sun. He must have read my thoughts and out of pity (I think) for me, he said, “There is a restaurant in the temple premises, you can go and sit there, the bus won’t come in half an hour at least”.
“But, what if the bus comes while I am inside, I wont be able to stop and catch the bus.”, I lamented.
“Don’t worry, I will make the bus wait here for you, sir”, with these words, he started attending to his duties.
Exasperated from the heat and two crossings of the road, I decided to recover in the restaurant and then take a taxi to my destination.
Sipping on mango lassi brought some relief.
“Your bus is here”, I heard the waiter telling me. I looked at the half full glass of delicious lassi and then looked in the direction of the bus and decided to make a run for the bus. By this time, the security guard had also entered the restaurant and he saw me hurrying.
“No worries, sir. Finish your drink. No hurry. I will make sure that the bus waits for you.”, said the security guard with the machine gun said and walked away.
I finished my drink and came to board the bus. It was not a bus, it was a mini bus with one seat along its back and another seat along its length. The seat along its length had four occupants, local villagers in their traditional dress and the seat at the back had a young man in urban dress. The driver seat was empty. I boarded the bus and decided to sit away from the villagers and next to the young urban man.
“Does this bus go to sector 24?”, I turned towards the young man and asked him. His grunt of a reply and shaking of his head indicated to me that he is saying yes and that he is not very pleased with me.
Of the four villagers, one was a man and three women. The woman sitting next to the man was in her forties, wearing traditional jewellery on her forehead, her head covered by her saree.
“Where do you want to go?”, she asked me in Hindi language.
I was very relieved that I have found some one I can communicate with.
“I want to go to sector 24”, I said.
“Keep sitting, you are in the right bus, it will take you there. It is a free bus, you dont pay any fare in this bus. It will take about forty minutes for you to get there. I am not going that far. I will get off at the high court. You count five stops after I get off and you will be there.” she educated me.
She would have continued informing me some more but her attention was diverted by the bus driver who jumped into his seat and started the bus engine. A 13-14 year old buy jumped into the moving bus and occupied conductor’s seat next to the driver and the bus moved.