I'm from South Bombay, what we snobbishly call 'townside', or the 'downtown' of Mumbai. Of course, I was too cool to take a train to Ghatkopar (Central Railway is ewww!), so I walked up to the bus-stop to catch the A1 air-conditioned BEST bus. It would take an hour more but who cares, life was good. So, I get in and for some reason decide to sit on the front seat with lots of legroom and the best view of the road.'Weaving' took a whole new meaning for me. The gigantic vehicle was expertly steered through C.P. Tank, Kalbadevi, Chirabazaar among countless other smaller cars with sour drivers, vendors that laid out a thin sheet on the road (not the pavement!) to display their wares, snack stalls, restless children and their mothers, window-shopping teenagers, angry pedestrians banging the side of the bus to guilt the driver for barging two inches closer than expected, and super-super angry taxi drivers leaning out the window, honking, yelling.
At the front of the bus, you get a clear perspective of the size of the bus, versus the amount of space allowed for it in that tiny, busy, irritated street. It was so interesting, I had to put away my crossword to watch the show. Our driver had very little margin for error; I was itching to scream back at that inconsiderate, idiot cabby.
But, not a single crease of frown on my Mumbaiyya hero, the BEST bus driver, and his grinning companion, the BEST bus conductor. We almost barely brushed the sleeves of so many pedestrians, I winced uselessly each time. What a man, what a performance!
Before climbing down the two steps to my stop, I dug into my stash of candy I usually save for the begging street children and dropped it all into his palm. He didn't even thank me, but he had the smug smile of 'all-in-a-day's-work'; it almost embarrassed me.
This man would go home, nonchalantly hang up his khaki bus driver uniform, eat dinner, and get a well-deserved night's rest. He didn't even remember how many people abused him on the road, the faces of the thud! thud! bus-slappers, or the dirty looks of all the aunties.
It is no feat to maintain calmness in the safe haven of Osho's ashram, or to figure the true meaning of life in the seclusion of an upscale spa. Chamomile tea, lavender oil, body wash, ylang ylang, jasmine, sandalwood, mint, rose, and citrus. Landmark Forum, Personality Development, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. These are the urban formulas of obtaining the 'bus-driver bubble'.
So while the less courageous such as me, are vacationing away on some mountaintop with switched-off cellphones, getting well-boozed & well-snoozed, and reading about celebrity divorces.....Life is still waiting outside the door,
"Maa ka doodh piya hai to saamne aa!!"
Before climbing down the two steps to my stop, I dug into my stash of candy I usually save for the begging street children and dropped it all into his palm. He didn't even thank me, but he had the smug smile of 'all-in-a-day's-work'; it almost embarrassed me.
This man would go home, nonchalantly hang up his khaki bus driver uniform, eat dinner, and get a well-deserved night's rest. He didn't even remember how many people abused him on the road, the faces of the thud! thud! bus-slappers, or the dirty looks of all the aunties.
It is no feat to maintain calmness in the safe haven of Osho's ashram, or to figure the true meaning of life in the seclusion of an upscale spa. Chamomile tea, lavender oil, body wash, ylang ylang, jasmine, sandalwood, mint, rose, and citrus. Landmark Forum, Personality Development, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. These are the urban formulas of obtaining the 'bus-driver bubble'.
So while the less courageous such as me, are vacationing away on some mountaintop with switched-off cellphones, getting well-boozed & well-snoozed, and reading about celebrity divorces.....Life is still waiting outside the door,
"Maa ka doodh piya hai to saamne aa!!"
