I have strange tales to narrate on the rare occasions that I happen to travel by bus. No, not the ‘free for ladies’ Karnataka government bus but the private bus, for whose ride one pays through the nose, for laughable distances. The last time while on such a bus, I had witnessed a loud midnight dinner, next to my seat that had me sleepless and nauseated for a long time.
The following narrative is perhaps a stranger experience. The kind auto driver helped hoist the heavy suitcase on to the bus platform whilst I trudged along the narrow ramp with a heavy backpack. I turned around to see my suitcase stationary after the auto driver was asked to get down. I trudged back and requested the bus go-to person(GP) to push it to my seat as per his earlier assurance. As I reached my seat I saw a figure already sleeping and when I announced that it was my seat the young boy said, “No, it’s mine!” Once again I called the GP and he came with a chart in hand.
The boy, named Singh, continued to argue until the GP firmly told him that his seat was elsewhere. The boy reluctantly got up but his luggage continued to be on my seat. As a helpful citizen I pointed out his seat after searching for the number and he exclaimed, “Oh, upper berth!” as if it was amazing. He checked his cellphone and exclaimed that he had occupied the seat of his previous journey. What confusion! His parting advice left me at my wits’ end. “Watch out, the seat is fully wet!” Upon my quizzical look his reply, “No, no, it was already wet when I sat.”
I summoned the GP again and he satisfied himself that it was indeed wet. I requested for a change of sheet taking for granted that spare sheets were on board. He replied that he would be back and he was, along with the sheet upon which the spare driver had been sleeping, after pulling it from under him! I refused to accept it, demanding a fresh one. He left with a frustrated look and to my dismay shut the cabin door. Soon enough at the next stop my luggage was taken to another bus and I was asked to board that bus!
I climbed down from the bus, surprised at this haphazard adjustment for want of a sheet, and observed three persons simultaneously busy on their cellphones, as if an unheard of emergency had emerged. Finally the local office person took a stand and ordered for the sheet from my bus to be exchanged with one of the other bus and he ensured that it was a sheet from an unoccupied seat. So back I climbed the former bus and the GP struggled to cover the seat with the sheet as it was not his duty.
Finally I rested on it after spreading my own sheet. What an annoying and bizarre experience! The tailpiece is that a few young women who were watching my – an elder’s – predicament never uttered a word of support or enquiry apart from saying, “Aunty is getting down,” and got lost in their cell phone world. The word “aunty” indicated the girls were very Indian but their indifferent attitude spoke a different language.
