Phew! A really long time since I sat down to write something… anything, actually! The keyboard’s looking as inviting as ever as I am sitting down in my cozy little chair typing away like there is no tomorrow (alright, that is a bit of an overstatement, of course there is a tomorrow!) Anyways, the reasons why I haven’t got the time to sit down and blab on about any ‘goddamn’ thing has been… what d’you expect? A little bit of studies, I guess! And now that the time of the “little bit” of studies is up, I’m back where I belong!
But the return journey to come back to the place where I belong has not been very pretty, since I had to take a bus at the so-called peak hour. Well, if you have had an experience like that and have wondered ‘what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here?’ while several people are trying to make a sandwich of you, you know what I’m talking about! But I’m not here to rant about the inconveniences of a “bheer baas” (borrowing the accent and style of a frustrated daily passenger), I’m here to give an account of how I enjoyed that trip, even though it was less like a bus and more like a kitchen, with the heat and the smell all reaching a painfully meticulous crescendo amidst the occasional “Ki bichhiri chalachhe”s and “Apni ektu bhodrobhabe daran na”s.
I was standing (or should I say ‘trying to stand’?) at the back of the bus! It was stuffy, it was smelly, it was downright hell, and I was trying my best to stretch my arm over the heads and shoulders of two people to get to the hanging rods! I had barely made myself “at home”, when I heard a small shriek from behind. It was a girl, of my age, I guess… in her late teens, who was complaining to the conductor about something! Turns out she had lost her purse after getting on the bus! Apparently, the girl was trying to blame the entire incident on the bus conductor, even though I wasn’t able, even after several minutes of trying, to figure out how this could be the fault of the bus conductor! Anyways, as soon as the girl started to complain, some older ladies and a few men joined forces to defend the girl and shout subtle abuses at the conductor! Yes, the abuses were subtle enough to dodge the conductor who, thankfully, didn’t retaliate in a forceful manner.
As soon as the girl affair was wrapped up, after the conductor agreed to the girl not buying her ticket and yet, make the full journey, another brawl had started, this time closer to me. Apparently, a guy sitting in the ‘Handicapped’ seat (who, by the way, wasn’t handicapped… but that doesn’t matter) tried to rise, as his destination had arrived, and had accidentally stepped on the foot of the person standing right before me. The poor guy made a noise, convincing us he was in a lot of pain, and began cursing the ‘not-handicapped’ passenger! “Ektu dekhe pa felte paren na? nije to babur moton bose chilen aar… uff! Angul-take mariye dilo!” The receiver of these words, a 20-something man, stared dumbfounded at the injured, turns out he was a non-Bengali and didn’t understand a word of Bengali. “Kya bola ji? Sorry, bhaisaab… zara jaldi mein tha, is liye…”
The Bangali-babu wasn’t done with the guy. “Keya sorry? Sorry bola to ho giya? Pa marake sorry bol deneseka amar pa-ka angul thik ho jayega? Thik se dekha nahi karta… chokh mein kya thuli pehenke ghumta hain?” I really have no clue if the guy made any reply after this spurt of chaste Hindi offered by the Bengali gentleman! I was trying my best not to loose my grip on the rod… it was a difficult thing to do as my insides were threatening to burst out laughing! And just in case I lost my grip on the rod, I’d definitely fall (however unintentionally) on the girl who had lost her purse, and that would fetch me a couple (at least) of well-chosen expletives, which wasn’t even the last thing I wanted!
As a matter of fact, the incident I apprehended then, happened a couple of minutes later at the other end of the bus where a thirty-something man, who was returning from office, going by his looks and folder, accidentally brushed against a schoolgirl who was returning from her school. She was barely 14, I should say, Std. VIII is my guess. The girl said nothing except giving the man a wary glance, but a good (?) Samaritan, who was standing near the guy, spoke out for the schoolgirl!
“Eta ki hochhe, dada? Meye dekhli gaye porte ichhe kore, na?”
The guy looked flabbergasted by this remark, to say the least! Still, he had composure enough to retaliate, “Ki bolchen ki, o amar boner boyesi! Apnader-yi mathay joto sob ultopalta chinta ghorafera kore!”
The debate must have gone on for quite sometime, I expect, but the tone of the feud remained subdued and within safe levels! In any case, my destination was almost here, and after a couple of pushes and ‘sorry’s from my end, I was near the door… and at last, out of the bus! Quite an experience in a Bheer Baas, huh?
Signing Off,
-Jagannath (Jesse)
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