It was a Monday, a terrible day!. Sun was smiling in the sky. What else it has to do?. I mean it just have to show up in the early morning and go back by evening. That's a routine job, some thing like watch Man Job. Nothing creative to do. Ohh! It almost killed me with its monstrous rays. Thank! God that Mr.Jabar died. I could rest in a bus shed built in memory of late Mr.Jabar. If at all not to pay a tribute to Mr.Jabar, the Bus shelter wouldn't have been built. It was not a bus shed but a cow shed. Even a cow would refuse to put dung in it. The roof of the shed was floating in air.
I was so worried. It was getting late like hell. A man was standing nearby. I asked him the time. He was very happy to help me and answered " Don’t worry sir, you will get it from a watch". For a minute there was silence. WTF! Man. I was like “Did you really say that?. You must be some guy who escaped from mental hospital. Get cured soon, brother”.
"Thank you very much", That's all I said. He said "Its ok, I love helping people". He then started talking about himself and never stopped. Poor guy he didn't know that he was a fool."
After an hour of waiting, the bus came. It looked like a municipality waste basket. It had whole China in it. It was too crowded. People were hanging from all sides. To my surprise, lots of people rushed in to the bus. Now, from where all these people came. I didn't see them few minutes back. Did they fall from sky just now?. These people have really made me angry, that an egg omelet could have been easily made on my burning head. I have no other option. It was getting late.
After going through the necessary evil of wrestling, I was able to get in to the bus; actually only a part of my leg, to be precise five fingers. Bus started moving and my balance too was moved. A moment of loss of balance would have resulted in my head crushed in to five chicken biriyani pieces under the tyre. I was not sure whether I will get bus ticket or ticket to hell. I love hell!. All my dear folks will be there. We would jazz party there. And if heaven was at neighborhood, Imagine Gandhiji coming out from heaven and shouting at us to keep the volume down!. “Hahah!!”. I couldn't stop laughing. People looked at me strange.
After few kilometers of travel their came a relief. Bus came to an halt. Could relax for some time. A policeman had stopped the bus. Driver presented before him all the documents. The policeman found a missing paper among document. Next moment we saw the policemen slapping the driver. The hit was so hard that the driver would have forgot his father's name. Thats só harsh. I hated these corrupt rascals. Wanted to do something. But as always in India, kept quiet.
Driver placed 500.RS among the documents and the policeman got the missing paper. I remember clearly that policemen also had entered the bus. The bus started moving again. The condition of bus was miserable with lots of wear and tear. It wanted to be like a racing car but she got to accept the truth that even when bull carts of state had a gear, state bus remained the same. Who is responsible for her pity condition?. Is it her mother, the state government?. Am not sure about her father, whether it is state transport corporation or private corporation.
In a flash of second I saw an empty seat in the front and I flied. I placed my bums towards seat and found myself sitting on someone's lap. Now Where the hell this person came from?. He had infiltrated in to my seat like Pakistani soldiers did in kargil. I felt like like a hurted Indian army. I wanted to kill him with AK-47 rifle. Blood pumped high inside me as if fitted to a motor and felt like it would soon overflow out of head. My elbow rose with out my permission to hit him behind me. Every thing looked blurred and in flash of second I had given mighty blow on his face. I quickly turned back to see him and I was stunned. I was thrown out of the bus by the policeman. He came near me, covering his bleeding nose.
