You want to have a slice of Chennai, take the metro bus. Countless friends have asked me why I commute the hard way everyday. Apart from the fear of ending up as a plus mark on one of the city roads, despite all the inconvenience, the bus is entertaining.
Take yesterday for example, after a tiring day at work and an even more tiring wait at the bus stop; I finally got into a bus from CMBT heading towards Guduwancherri. It was one of those day where the Gods are playing cards or something and so don't waste time showing mercy. So, I didn't get a seat. Even as I was hanging on for dear life as the driver was testing the durability of the breaks, the sheer variety of life around me was quite over powering. Two college girls engaged in idle chatter in their typical, "no-yaaar-i-prefer-mobile-phones-with-glitters" conversation. Apart from the faint smile they elicited in me, they were completely worthless in substance. So, I scanned the confines of the bus for another interesting character. There was this smart guy down the narrow passage, who was cool to the eye but hard on sensibility. He was crooning to some darling over the other of the phone in a baby voice. Boy, isn't there a place for such things.
Next in line were two old men. Thankfully they didn't have cellphones and so were communicating the old way-facing each other and talking. They were of course talking about the Ps - pension and politics. Just ahead of me were two working woman. They were still wearing their ID tags and so I know they are from Covansys. I wanted to ask them the trick of wearing ID tags. I hate wearing mine even inside the office and feel thats its too heavy and bulky for my liking. Had I asked they would have known that my brain is pickling, so I just listened and soon enough I know they are paying housing loans, their company still follows slavery and every other woman apart from these two angels in Covansys is a b****. In between all this one of their husband had the gal to call and got a curt, "feed the kid and put him to sleep" reply. After some time my ears were buzzing so I moved on.
A daily wages laborer was throwing a tantrum that the bus wasn't moving fast enough and her husband and baby boy of 23 will be waiting in hunger. Ever eager to set the record straight, the conductor dove in and said that if the traffic wouldn't budge, its not his problem. To this he got a cool "if you guys don't drive properly, why wouldn't there be traffic hold ups" reply at which point the conductor decided he would doze rather than talk. One of the woman asked the lady how she got the scars on her face and promptly they settled into comparing war injuries. All this was just too much for me and I was begining to cling to a pole and close my weary eyes when I opened them startled. The women was saying, "these scars are from my husband when he hit me. Nothing wrong with that though, I deserved it you know."
I tried thinking for a while but then gave up. what the hell! its not me anyway.
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