“Sigh! That’s the fifth 17D that’s gone by and not a single 12G in sight,” I think to myself as I wait at the bus stop on a mercilessly hot afternoon, for what seems like the longest hour of my life. As a regular user of buses, I feel crippled without them.
But, in my opinion, there’s more to the ten-wheelers than people would normally think. When inside a bus, you’re always entertained; either by the girls gossiping loudly or by a game of Chinese Whispers where “Postal Colony” becomes “Coastal Balcony” by the time your money reaches the conductor!
Personally, buses marked my “coming-of-age”, as I learnt to make my way through the roads of Chennai. What gives these crowded chariots their charm isn’t the comic air or their benevolence to 13-year-olds. It is the way they play host to a diverse multitude everyday. From school students and bank employees to flower sellers and old men with groceries, buses shuttle all kinds of people.
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A peek into the kind of lives that all those people lead makes you truly appreciate the world around you; something that any other journey cannot hope to do. So, all those who’ve never used a bus, get off your high horse and mount this rickety old one, for you are guaranteed an interesting ride.
Back at the bus stop, the heat is getting the better of me. I’m about to give up and flag down an auto when I spot the grand old vehicle, careening around the corner. The elation this sight brings can only be understood by experience.
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