A BUS JOURNEY

Abey Sushan

Topics are plenty for the careful observer. But for an imbecile like me, things are a bit
different. I am not a man of words (not that I do not keep my words!). Very seldom do I
get this feeling, to put some of what I think into words (and I am not an accomplished
thinker for that matter!). Well, since I’ve started writing (or typing?) and you’ve started
reading, I request you to continue patiently till the end of this small article.

Traveling by bus for long distances is not one of those enjoyable things in life,
especially if that bus is an age old one in which your grandpa must’ve traveled as a
child! Still, if that is the only option, there is no other go. So is my case. Once every
month I’ve to travel by buses of this kind to and fro in between my home village and
Trivandrum, where I study.

As usual, after classes on Friday, by about 4:00 in the evening, I rushed to my room,
grabbed my things (which include only dresses for washing) and stuffed them into a
back-pack and ran for the bus-stop. This being the “Medical College Bus-Stop”, there
is always a crowd waiting for buses.

Behind and by my side, I see people of all ages - some crippled by disease or old-age,
some young guys and girls bound for home (like me), some home-bound working men
and women, few school children and may be one or two foreigners. But looking out on
the road, I see cars, cars and more cars, few of them carrying more than two people.
They are the blessed ones, aint they? – Aloof and detached from the mainstream life of
an average person, blessed with all comforts of life, having foods of a large variety to
choose from, one dress for every occasion, butlers to attend to their needs and what
not? I was merely remarking upon the wide gap (or canyon?) that separates us from
the upper class. But I am not dumb enough to argue that all those ‘upper-class’
people must donate all their hard earned (well, may be not all!) savings to the masses
to bring about equal distribution of wealth in this ‘socialist’ country of ours.

Breaking my thread of thought appears a red bus (I would rather call it a ‘six wheeled
moving piece of crap’) with a board proclaiming its destination – ‘Thampanoor’. Yup!
That’s where the central bus station of Trivandrum is. The bus was over-crowded with
people hanging out of the sides of the bus as clothes hanging out of an overstuffed
laundry bag. Just as I managed to secure a place for my foot on the foot-board, the
bus launched. Creaking and crying, the bus started moving. Inside the bus, I see
people quarreling among one another over not having space to stand or sit. Nobody is
bothered about god-forsaken ones like me hanging out of the bus. Outside, I see
skyscrapers flying past me, the view of their sacred interiors blocked by Venetian
blinds. I tried to imagine an executive working alone in his cubicle in one of those
buildings, away from the lively world and neck deep in the world of mainframes,
diversification strategies and corporate manners. They really don’t know what they are
missing out, do they?

The bus arrives at another bus-stop. I saw a crowd of children in uniforms, their back
bent by the load of books they’ve to carry to school. When will this society lose its false
pride? When will they learn to accept children as individuals with identity? Who will
have the courage to revamp this system of education where the child has no part to
play other than ‘mug-up’? The child must have a basic knowledge of his mother
tongue and English language. He must know to perform basic mathematical
operations. Then, he must be taught in detail concerning his field of interest. After all,
what is the use of teaching a ‘doctor-to-be’ about Bernoulli’s principle, Raman Effect
and the like? You don’t need to know the composition of an animal cell to be an
engineer, do you? To be a carpenter or a mason, you don’t need to know the chemical
composition of cement or the elaborate process involved in its preparation. I wonder
why these people are still staying inactive, instead of trying to bring some drastic
change that will support the growing economy by providing better equipped work force
– a specialized work force, and that too as early as possible.

The bus moves on. Hey! This is a residential area – again growing sky-scrapers. In this
era of urbanization, to accommodate all those immigrants to cities, people have
started building houses on top of other houses, giving rise to ‘sky-scrapers’ called flats
– vertical stratification society, they call it. A decent apartment in a flat consists of two
bedrooms (may be three), a kitchen, a dining hall cum drawing room and a balcony,
that’s it. No portico, no gardens, no place to throw broken utensils or old shoes, no
place to grow your own vegetables, no place for domestic animals (save cats and
dogs!). and the daily routine lived out in these – get up, go to work, come back, sleep,
get up and so it goes, of course may be one or two social gatherings. Apart from these
few gatherings (like residents association meetings), every body are “bus apna apna”.
Well, is that a good way to live? I don’t know.
Finally! The bus has come to Thampanoor. On my way to the enquiry, my eyes locked
on the people waiting for their buses. There was despair in some of their eyes, some
had sadness, some proclaimed happiness, and some shined with HOPE. . . . . .

“Hey boy, the next bus to Adoor will be by 4:30 pm. You better take a coupon for a
seat or you’ll have to stand in the bus throughout your journey.”

This is one thing that I like about the people of Trivandrum – they are alien to the
monosyllabic responses that are so common in central Travancore. For instance, if you
asked the same question in central Travancore, you would get a blank reply, “at 4:30”
– bus that’s it! You sit or stand or hang throughout your journey, I’m not bothered.
See the difference in attitude between people of the capital city and the land of letters
and latex. Now that’s one of the things people of Trivandrum ought to be proud of! I’m
really happy to know that though Trivandrum boasts of a metro lifestyle – pompous at
times, it has not lost that part which makes it a ‘human’ community.

Here comes my bus “ Kilimanoor - Ayoor – Kottarakkara – Adoor – Kottayam” – the

kind of bus that I’ve described in the beginning. Hey, the bus is empty, but only for
now. Having entered and located my seat “seat No.6” – side seat – oh! Can’t explain
how I enjoy sitting in the side seat – a habit that has its roots in the days of ‘motion
sickness’ and ‘avomine’. One by one, all the seats are being filled. I see an old man
quarreling with a young lady over the seat. Uffo! When will these girls learn to respect
their elders? Now this is also, no doubt, a metro effect. Finally, with the intervention of
co-passengers and the bus conductor, the girl gives way and the grandpa can sit tight
and enjoy his journey.

I took out my “most trusted lieutenant” – yup! You guessed it right – my cell-phone. It
isn’t one of those expensive smart phones that you see in most boys’ hands, but it is a
fairly good one that has never failed me – even after having nearly drowned it once. My
cell phone is with whom I confide everything – meetings, birthdays, exams, messages,
photos and little secrets. Now he is going to entertain me, non stop for 2.5 hours.
That’s the whole duration of my bus journey. I plugged in the headset and pushed the
music button –

“Hey, baby when you see me comin,

Hey, you better run for cover”.

Now that’s from Bachna ae Haseeno – not a great film, but the songs are real good. As
I start tapping my feet for the song, the bus starts moving out of the station.

It is a great feeling, you know, to have the wind blowing on your face when you are
lying semi-reclined, with your favorite song buzzing in your ears. It is one of those few
things I enjoy. Aah! Peace, a feeling of detachment, if only the world around you never
existed. . .

When I am through the third song in my playlist, somebody taps my shoulder. I

opened my eyes.

“Ticket please”

“Oh! One to Adoor”

“That’ll be Rs.59”

Having paid my bus fare as well, now I’m at full liberty and peace. Nobody will dare to
disturb me from my graceful recluse. I return to my song. . . .

“koyi jo mila tho mujhe

aisa lagtha tha jaise

meri sari duniya mein”

This one’s from Shankar Mahadevan- Breathless. I’ve always had admiration for this
Architect turned Music Director, who is now one of the towering figures in Bollywood.
Lucky guy! aint he? Must’ve actually spoiled his whole life in some damn construction
company in Chennai. Followed his heart and look where he is now! Look out and you’ll
definitely find success stories of this sort in daily lives around us. And when we
observe one, we say “oh man! Look at this guy! We’ve a lot to learn from him” and then
we pass, without learning anything. That’s human nature. It takes a bit of
perseverance and sheer will to do all that.

Gallons of water rolled under the London Bridge (may be 20 minutes have passed!)
have I slept in the meantime? May be, coz I was at the 10th song in my playlist.

“ennum ninne poojikkam,

ponnum poovum choodikkam

vennilavin vasantha lathike”

This is a famous love song from a hit film of the nineties. Memories come rushing
down upon me – a retrosternal heaviness, painful and at the same time comfortable
(Sorry for being a bit ‘technical’ there – didn’t find another apt word!). Love is a matter
of chance, don’t you think? It is never planned for. It just happens. You’ll never know
when. And the most important thing about love is that there is no particular reason –
you can’t tell why. But still it is there. This is one feeling that has its roots deep down.
Having inspired classic and monumental novels, dramas, poetry, art and what not, it
is still there – slowly burning within – unquenched and ready to ravish when a time
comes.

There is nothing new to speak of love. It is all known since the Neanderthals became
Homo sapiens, right? You don’t need an hour long lecture, or pages and pages of
rubbish to understand just one word “Love” – it is just enough to look within –
Salvation lies within!! ?

The journey continues . . . . . . only to form part of a continuum. A journey that will
end only when life drains out. To be continued only by another – in a different space-
time coordinate, yet forming part of a completely related whole