Hell of a ride

Every morning, I muster heaps of courage and patience before heading to work. Job too stressful, you think? Actually, no. My job looks like an easy-peasy ride compared to the one I have commuting to and from work. Anybody who is a regular user of the wonderful services of the BMTC (Bangalore Metropolitan Transport Corporation) will vouch for the fact that it is one hell of a ride!

The journey begins on a fine Monday morning, when I find myself waiting at a bus-stop – at least I think that the shambled structure is one – when a squeaky bus heaves, grunts and stops to load up the people. The sight of “macho” men hanging by the poles and women with their humongous bags jostling for space and a hapless conductor squeezed in between all this, somehow convinces me to just let it go.

Soon, another rickety bus comes along and it’s the same scene. “Why are all the buses full? Have we magically populated the city overnight?” I ponder. Praying silently for “the one”, I see my saviour finally approaching the stop.

The bus is empty and I have my eye on a seat that looks very inviting. Yay, my lucky day! I get into the bus all smiles and venture into the land of rising and falling armies. But alas! My happiness is short-lived as I find myself sitting next to a woman with a phone, whose size resembles the cordless in my home and is yapping away non-stop.

Yes, I understand your aunt’s cousin’s brother is a big-shot guy in an American company. I sympathise with the fact that no girl would ever be enough for the NRI. Deal with it in your own space. Trying very hard to mute her out, I get back to my book when I see another problem. In fact, I smell another problem.

A lady has decided to eat her breakfast in the bus. A smelly breakfast at that. Soon, my nasal senses are bombarded with a stench of onions, garlic and rice. On a different note, has anyone realised that this particular ‘aromatic stench’ can be a very good candidate for a weapon to defeat our enemies?

On the unfortunate days, catching a seat in these buses can turn out to be an Olympic game. A mini-stampede of sorts unfolds when a seat becomes empty. If you win an argument with a crazy person, who is fighting for a seat as if her life depends on it, I tip my hat to you. If not, get ready to fight another battle of sorts with the baggage that people carry around. With every brake and turn of the bus, you are jabbed and poked with a bag, the size of a baby.

As if all this isn’t enough, wait till the bus struggles to traverse narrow roads, bad stretches and the ubiquitous traffic of Bengaluru. Sadly, it doesn’t look like my torturous journey is going to end soon. A long, winding trail of vehicles dots the small road before me. My repository of patience breaches its safe limits when I look at people travelling alone in huge cars. I silently curse them and their AC cars for adding to my misery.

Finally, after a potentially hazardous journey, I arrive at my stop, thanking my stars for yet another eventful journey and focus on preparing myself for the evening ride back home, which has its own share of tales and travails!