Hazards of a bus journey

Hah! A month long internship finally over. And more than the pain of sitting in the air-conditioned room of the office, was the pain of travelling to and fro by bus. Whoa! Plain torture, that’s what it was.

Half of my school years I’ve returned home from school by bus. It had never been such a pain. Now, suddenly, every bit of torture seems to have elevated itself to a higher degree, with the aim of draining me of my energy completely.

These bus journeys have given my character shades of grey! I’ve been such a mean girl, I can’t believe it’s actually me.

First, a brainless crowd. Why the hell would I be standing near the footsteps of the bus if I were not going to get down? Every soul who is to get down in my stop asks this dumb question; or okay, to be fair, most of the brainless beings. “Yeranga poreengla?” And I would give this furious stare or pretend not to have heard them at all. This, somehow, vents my anger and I’m cooled down by the time I get down and start walking.

Second, idiotic men. No offence to this sex, but some of you can get so horrifyingly irritating. And don’t blame me if I stamp your foot hard! This seems to work really well, and all trouble quite gets out of the way. :P

Even conductors can be a huge problem! There was once this time when I got into a bus and did not know if would stop at my bus stop. “------- poguma?” (Does the bus go to ------?) No answer. Repeat six to seven times. Absolutely deaf as a post, I thought. Who the hell gave him this job?? Finally this man got the sense to look at me. And then he says, “Naanum appolerndhu paakaren, oru mariyadhai-ye illama pesitrukeenga!” (I’m watching from that time, you don’t seem to be giving me any respect!) I was non-plussed. I turned to see whom he was talking to. “Ungladhaan”, he said. Me?? Heck! What lack of respect was there in my tone?

Me: “Ennanga sollreenga?”
C: “Yenga nalla pant shirt-lan pottu dress pannirkeenga, konjam kooda mariyadha theriyadhavangalaa irukeengley?”
Me: (thinking) “Dei, matter-ku vaada!” (Things were becoming like dialogues in daily soaps. I made my contribution too). (to C) “Konjam puriyaraa maari solungalen?”
C: “Yen maa, conductor kitta edha kekarche ‘Sir’, illa ‘Conductor’, illa ‘Iyya’ apdinu solli kekanum…nee onnum mariyadhaiye illama pesariye!”
Ayyo..okay, translation!
(Me: what are you saying?
C: you’re nicely dressed in pant shirt etc. but you don’t seem to be giving me any
respect!
Me: Can you clarify? :P
C: When you ask a conductor something you must say “sir” or “conductor”…you are
talking to me without any respect!)
Whew, translation done. If any of you don’t know tamil, you owe me special thanks! :)
I felt like throwing anything at hand at him.
Me: Cha, idhukku thaan ivalo pesarengla! Seri, conductor sir, ------- poguma? (oh, you made a big fuss for this? Ok, conductor sir, does the bus go to -----?)
C: Haan, ipdi thaan kekanum. (Yes, this is how you should ask.)
By this time, more than half the distance had been covered. And guess what, the bus wouldn’t stop at -------. I got down at the next stop and walked that freaking distance.

All said and done, though, bus journeys are fun too. Women discussing topics ranging from the weather to kids they have, with people they’ve never even met before, women irritated beyond life who just pounce and scold you (this is funny because I shamelessly laugh when such people scold me!) and all the fuss made while people get in and get out, could actually offer a nice treat to watch. All this, that is, if you don’t mind the crowd. At least I don’t, now.

So those of you who travel by bus now say “Conductor sir!”
Sir, yes, sir!