Travelling in a bus

At the beginning of every new day, people look forward to little pleasures that make their day delightful. Good weather, a comfortable journey to work and so on.

I look forward to traveling in a bus. This object has been the butt of public antipathy for its crushing crowds and yelling conductors but I am drawn to a bus like a Russian to Vodka. I am addicted to it. The bus is a goldmine of enriching experiences! It is an interesting movie of which the conductor is the director, the hero and the villain.

Even though the driver controls it, it is the conductor who really rules the bus like a king. And he rules in accordance with the principle of equality. Man or woman, rich or poor, dark or fair, he dishes out equal insults to all! In addition to that, if you are lucky enough not to get a seat, congratulations! You become his favorite victim. For those poor standing passengers, the conductor is a jail warden ordering his prisoners around-and he has only one order to give “Fati Vach” (get back).

If you don’t choose to obey him, not only do you get insults but also some irritating nicknames in addition. When I was at school, irritating the conductor was my hobby until one day his patience ran out and he shouted “Oye Chaddi-Kumar… get back!”. Unfortunately I use the same bus to commute to the university and now even though I have shifted from shorts to jeans, for him, I still remain chaddi-kumar!

As opposed to the autocratic conductor, the driver of the bus is like God. He is the one who actually controls that little world. He is well aware of the conductors behavior but still he remains silent. A part of the bus yet detached from it. Omniscient yet aloof.

And finally, the innocent scapegoats, the suffering millions, the passengers. In fact commuting in a bus is no less then a slow suicide. All the passengers commit that. They climb in and wait as the greed of the driver and conductor to squeeze in more people makes the bus roll ahead with the speed of a turtle.

The duo simply rolls the bus back and forth the same spot pretending to go but actually waiting for more victims. They kill a lot of time. Minute by minute time slips through you hands. For the distance that can be covered by car in twenty minutes, the bus takes forty five. And when you think of things that you could have done in all the time that was lost, you feel like you have wasted a part of your life. The bus stops for what looks like hours at stops that the D&C (driver and conductor) think are lucrative. You sit and wait. You are late. The boss, the teachers, target you. It is your fault. You should have set out early! No one tells the D&C to be on time.

We all tolerate the tyrannical conductors. We let them fill the buses beyond their capacity, we let them deny seats to students because they ask for what they deserve-a concession. We let them abuse women, children and senior citizens. Because we need them. But does that mean we should ask no questions at all?