Familiarity often breeds likeness. That doesn’t
perhaps apply to all things in life like love or marriages(that I've
heard get most unlikely with time). But here I’m talking about my daily
bus rides. I’m getting used to commuting to work by bus now.
The first day was like preparing for an exam. I have not traveled in buses much and I just have a most 'wonderful' sense of Geography. The combination is adventurous. I checked the schedule online multiple times both for the start and return trips. I was there at the bus stop 10 minutes earlier. The bus came. I greeted the driver and looked up. All the seats were occupied. There were people of so many colors and shapes, and vividness. My brain ran out of thoughts. I had to stand all the way to my destination and I was simply disappointed. The return trip was worse.
There is an underground tunnel in the downtown area from where the bus needs to be taken. I reached the stop.The setting was apt for a thriller movie scene, where the silence and dullness is about to turn into something nasty. I found a few people scattered in the platform. I could relate them to mobsters in movies or psychopaths or some to just ‘people who scared me for no reason’. I was worried about what would be my reaction if one of them came and showed me a gun and asked me for my laptop. I then thought about ‘what things I have not done or want to do in life?’ assuming this was my last day. I resolved to at least start focusing on some them as soon as I reach home safely. I then circled my eyes around and saw a guy in a cop like uniform standing at a corner. That was some relief! When I got into the bus finally, I had to keep all my senses up and running to watch for my stop. Well as must be apparent from reading this account so far, ‘sensing and judging direction is not my forte’. Well even to say it like that is an understatement of the situation. If I don’t have to, I never try to remember where I’m going and how I’ll come back.
Anyway, so that was the first day. As my ride continued for a week or two, I slowly learned to relax. I started returning smiles from strangers, or even recognizing some of the regular travelers. I learned to time myself better, so that I don’t have to be on the stops several minutes earlier. Also in a way, I started appreciating diversity that the human race brings in society. For example, there is an ‘oval-face-round-earring’ girl who I jump into often. She always sits on the front seats which are to be abandoned for elderly people in case needed. She gets in the bus before my stop and does not get down before me. I see there are other seats that she can choose to sit. But I always find her sitting right at front and standing after few stops, giving away her seat to an elderly person who comes by. That stranger is sure strange!
Those who mostly make the bus lively are African-American people. Women with flashy jackets, braided hair, skin tight jeans, high boots, men with loose jeans, loose T’s, pierced ear and earphones. If a black woman next to me picks up a phone to talk, it makes me nervous. I can’t make out if she is upset with the person on phone or that’s her usual way of speaking. I would not be surprised if my slight shift in seat can arouse her anger on me as well. So I just try to stay still as much as possible.
There are Asian people. You cannot miss them in any journey in US. Bus rides are no exception. I have never been able to distinguish Chinese from Thai, or Korean from Japanese. If I have to refer to them, I default to Chinese for purposes of ease. They are always a subject of interest to me. They are watchful as if the world around them is like a book they are studying. I find them cautious for reasons I have not been able to understand.
I got a surprise from a Mexican man one day. Again, I don’t know what kind of Spanish origin he was, but the sharp features of black-gel hair, fair color, and black eyes gave him enough substance to be called Mexican in my dictionary. So, I was standing one day without a seat and I heard a sound from back. He asked me to sit and he moved on. I thought he must be getting down at the next stop. But no, he was standing at some distance all the time till we reached downtown. And there I was, kind of open mouthed, not sure if I should extend my thanks in any way or not.
I've come to realize that I’m evolving with each bus ride. I have learned how to grab the seats. People in the tunnel don’t overwhelm me anymore. I have learned that there will be fellow passengers with good and bad odors; it’s entirely a matter of luck. I know that an unexpected talk with a stranger will sometimes make my day. The bad rush at some other day will take a homely cup of tea to cool me down. Rest assured the best part of my journey is the time when my stop is about to arrive, and I see a ‘STOP REQUESTED’ sign on the bus. It is a signal for the driver to know where to stop. The sign so inadvertently tags the start of a day...or its end, as life should be lived, in moments, in stops.
The first day was like preparing for an exam. I have not traveled in buses much and I just have a most 'wonderful' sense of Geography. The combination is adventurous. I checked the schedule online multiple times both for the start and return trips. I was there at the bus stop 10 minutes earlier. The bus came. I greeted the driver and looked up. All the seats were occupied. There were people of so many colors and shapes, and vividness. My brain ran out of thoughts. I had to stand all the way to my destination and I was simply disappointed. The return trip was worse.
There is an underground tunnel in the downtown area from where the bus needs to be taken. I reached the stop.The setting was apt for a thriller movie scene, where the silence and dullness is about to turn into something nasty. I found a few people scattered in the platform. I could relate them to mobsters in movies or psychopaths or some to just ‘people who scared me for no reason’. I was worried about what would be my reaction if one of them came and showed me a gun and asked me for my laptop. I then thought about ‘what things I have not done or want to do in life?’ assuming this was my last day. I resolved to at least start focusing on some them as soon as I reach home safely. I then circled my eyes around and saw a guy in a cop like uniform standing at a corner. That was some relief! When I got into the bus finally, I had to keep all my senses up and running to watch for my stop. Well as must be apparent from reading this account so far, ‘sensing and judging direction is not my forte’. Well even to say it like that is an understatement of the situation. If I don’t have to, I never try to remember where I’m going and how I’ll come back.
Anyway, so that was the first day. As my ride continued for a week or two, I slowly learned to relax. I started returning smiles from strangers, or even recognizing some of the regular travelers. I learned to time myself better, so that I don’t have to be on the stops several minutes earlier. Also in a way, I started appreciating diversity that the human race brings in society. For example, there is an ‘oval-face-round-earring’ girl who I jump into often. She always sits on the front seats which are to be abandoned for elderly people in case needed. She gets in the bus before my stop and does not get down before me. I see there are other seats that she can choose to sit. But I always find her sitting right at front and standing after few stops, giving away her seat to an elderly person who comes by. That stranger is sure strange!
Those who mostly make the bus lively are African-American people. Women with flashy jackets, braided hair, skin tight jeans, high boots, men with loose jeans, loose T’s, pierced ear and earphones. If a black woman next to me picks up a phone to talk, it makes me nervous. I can’t make out if she is upset with the person on phone or that’s her usual way of speaking. I would not be surprised if my slight shift in seat can arouse her anger on me as well. So I just try to stay still as much as possible.
There are Asian people. You cannot miss them in any journey in US. Bus rides are no exception. I have never been able to distinguish Chinese from Thai, or Korean from Japanese. If I have to refer to them, I default to Chinese for purposes of ease. They are always a subject of interest to me. They are watchful as if the world around them is like a book they are studying. I find them cautious for reasons I have not been able to understand.
I got a surprise from a Mexican man one day. Again, I don’t know what kind of Spanish origin he was, but the sharp features of black-gel hair, fair color, and black eyes gave him enough substance to be called Mexican in my dictionary. So, I was standing one day without a seat and I heard a sound from back. He asked me to sit and he moved on. I thought he must be getting down at the next stop. But no, he was standing at some distance all the time till we reached downtown. And there I was, kind of open mouthed, not sure if I should extend my thanks in any way or not.
I've come to realize that I’m evolving with each bus ride. I have learned how to grab the seats. People in the tunnel don’t overwhelm me anymore. I have learned that there will be fellow passengers with good and bad odors; it’s entirely a matter of luck. I know that an unexpected talk with a stranger will sometimes make my day. The bad rush at some other day will take a homely cup of tea to cool me down. Rest assured the best part of my journey is the time when my stop is about to arrive, and I see a ‘STOP REQUESTED’ sign on the bus. It is a signal for the driver to know where to stop. The sign so inadvertently tags the start of a day...or its end, as life should be lived, in moments, in stops.
No comments:
Post a Comment