Thursday, October 18, 2007

Fiction: Missy on the Bus

At quarter past seven, the neighborhood is bustling with activity. There is atleast one person in every house that is getting ready to leave - to the office, to the school, to the college. The road, even though its one of the inner roads in the area, is constantly used by School and college buses. People are never tired of honking. By the time its close to half past, you can definitely hear to a multitude of sounds - you cant even guess which vehicle crossed your gate. Its a busy day everyday and sand particles start picking up with the wind.

He walked across all the inner roads. It was brisk 5 minute walk. Soon he reached the main road. Quickly he walked over the small median to the other side. It was the usual point. The same people were there. Nothing was different. This was an everyday affair and had a strange monotony attached within. He thought about the long journey he had to take. Even though he didn't have to drive all the way, it was quite a tiring journey - the morning sun shone right through the window making the insides feel like an oven. During all this, the bus arrived. The loud but sweet FM music was playing. It was time to get to that second row seat, recline and sleep. A good 40 minute sleep in the morning would always keep him refreshed for the rest of the day.

The bus started in its own pace. It reached another destination. More people finding their way to the empty seats. Then his eyes spotted the last person entering the bus. Dark lavender colored top embroidered with white flower patterns, plaited hair, a small black bindi to rightly decorate the forehead and a bright morning look on her face. From her looks and the way she walked, he could guess that she was very simple and innocent. She never looked up - perhaps it was the South Indian style, the women when they are outside never lift their head up and walk. It was more a precautionary thing. She sat right in front of him. It was the usual seating order. As the vehicle moved to the next stop, she looked out. Her eyes displayed an expression of expectation and eagerness. The moment her friend entered the bus she changed into a quick smile. "How are you Akka*" - she said as she saw her friend taking the seat beside her.

A small conversation started between them. The loud music coupled with the hustle and bustle on the main road completely cut them out of the world. From looking at them, he could sense that they were enjoying every bit of what they were talking about. Girl talk! he thought. Why bother. He closed his eyes. He wanted to go into sleep mode.

The power nap didn't last for long. He woke up. This wasn't any sharp turn or a sudden breaking. He looked around. Some more people had taken seats. The bus was full now. He looked at her, not through the gap between the seats, but on the window pane. The dark glass had become like a canvas and was reflecting a nice portrait of her face. He could see her eyes - they discoursed a flurry of thoughts. She spoke nothing.

She took a pet bottle in her hand. Holding the bottle in one hand at the base, tapped the cap of the bottle with her palm. She looked at her friend and chuckled. He understood what she did. It was an imitation from the movies about how the men opened whiskey bottles in Tamil Nadu.

He smiled and went back to sleep mode.

"Characters on this post do resemble people in real life, but as readers you don't have to come to any conclusions. This is just another attempt to make the blog a nice place to visit."


*Akka - tamil word for elder sister

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