When my colleague took the first yawn, even 10 minutes hadn’t passed since our training had started. Yawning is contagious and soon another colleague of mine yawned and then I joined the yawning bandwagon. Our regular yawning however had no effect on our trainer for he didn’t yawn even once for the next forty-five minutes when I was with the team. Later I left since I had some work. I do not remember what I had in my head but I realized I had walked long past my bus station. I felt foolish when I had to backtrack half the way to the bus station. For some unknown reasons public vehicles have become scarce and to find a bus or a tempo is a struggle I involve into daily. Among so many other people waiting for vehicles, my eyes fell into one particular girl with a very silent profile. Since my parents are head bent to see me married soon and as they have already started looking for girl, I thought this girl might be a good wife for me, may be a good match. She had little dark complexion, dark and compassionate eyes and she waited for the bus as if she won’t mind if the bus came the next day however that does not indicate she looked clumsy. Where she stood was enough to make her one among us i.e. those who waited for bus but the way she looked at the bus and to the crowd suggested she was just an onlooker though her friend looked very anxious, clearly they had been waiting for some while. When I realized I was considering her to be my wife, I felt foolish again but foolishness I would not seriously regret. Even in the morning while I was in the Temple, I had thought might be my match be somewhere around the same temple. I had felt the same foolishness in the morning as well.
The girl vanished just the way she had come to my sight. I had no intention to look for her either, the thought had come just the way the whiff of air had hit me while I waited the bus. Soon a bus came and the people pushed each other to be able to get into the small bus, luckily I was the first one to get into the bus and secured a seat. The bus moved though the people were waving hands to the conductor to wait. I had bought a new book after almost three months so that had given me a little pride, I felt the weight of the book in my bag and was already eager to turn its leaves. I could see the para-military police force moving in line their hands holding automatic rifles. It gave an uneasy impression but that was not for anything special. They have been made to guard the city after rise in criminal activities around the city. When I turned my face away from the window, it fell upon the face of a woman who was holding the rod to support herself as she stood in the bus. The expression was that of disgust and disapproval. She had just turned her head away from the other side so I looked at that site. A boy looking not more than fifteen sat with his face close to the face of a girl. They were holding hands and were talking in whispers, the hand of the boy tried to hide their face. I cannot say what pleasure did the sight give me, I didn’t take my eyes off them. The bus was packed beyond its limit and not many people can afford to sit that way in public. Later the boy kissed the girl in the lips lightly as if he was only trying to feel how her lips tasted. Now that is what I call courage. Is that the young generation? Why did I feel so, how can the act to kiss a girl be laudable as courage? I have no answer but that was what I thought that moment.
At a place the bus was stuck in the traffic jam. From the window I could see few men gathered around a table inside a tavern. Only a candle was trying to keep away the dark though it was not very dark outside. Small glasses reflected the light of the candle and I knew what those glasses had. They were filled with booze. I looked at my watch which said 4:45. What made the glasses fill so early? Did the men have to go home early? I knew the answer was no. Time had nothing to do with their thirst for the booze. Night does not start at the time of a clock, it starts when the curtains of the day is drawn.
At a little distance, the road narrowed and the bus had to move so close by the walls of people home that the twigs and the branches of the trees and plants from the homes extended as if they wanted to shake hand with the passengers. The leaves of these plants had thick layer of dust and clay. When it will rain they would bath to be pure and holy and as soon as the very rain stops they would be covered in the sins of dust again.
I got down at my place and it was already dark, students in their school uniform chased each other. They were just having fun; these are the things they will miss when they will come out of schools and of colleges.
Today the roads look vacant, I need not wait to cross the road. A shivering beggar lying with her knees pulled up to her chest draws my attention. I bend to spill three coins, one rupee each before her. I see her face when she pulls her tattered shawl to collect the coins. I know her, I have seen her in her good days, in the days when her husband was alive. In the days she had no mercy for her step sons. Her husband died young and her very step sons kicked her out of home and there she lies looking for mercies from those who don’t know her. I move on and there is no thoughts of her, no thoughts of anything but just the desire to reach home as early as possible to read the book. At home the first thing I do is write this piece again with no story with no content.
The girl vanished just the way she had come to my sight. I had no intention to look for her either, the thought had come just the way the whiff of air had hit me while I waited the bus. Soon a bus came and the people pushed each other to be able to get into the small bus, luckily I was the first one to get into the bus and secured a seat. The bus moved though the people were waving hands to the conductor to wait. I had bought a new book after almost three months so that had given me a little pride, I felt the weight of the book in my bag and was already eager to turn its leaves. I could see the para-military police force moving in line their hands holding automatic rifles. It gave an uneasy impression but that was not for anything special. They have been made to guard the city after rise in criminal activities around the city. When I turned my face away from the window, it fell upon the face of a woman who was holding the rod to support herself as she stood in the bus. The expression was that of disgust and disapproval. She had just turned her head away from the other side so I looked at that site. A boy looking not more than fifteen sat with his face close to the face of a girl. They were holding hands and were talking in whispers, the hand of the boy tried to hide their face. I cannot say what pleasure did the sight give me, I didn’t take my eyes off them. The bus was packed beyond its limit and not many people can afford to sit that way in public. Later the boy kissed the girl in the lips lightly as if he was only trying to feel how her lips tasted. Now that is what I call courage. Is that the young generation? Why did I feel so, how can the act to kiss a girl be laudable as courage? I have no answer but that was what I thought that moment.
At a place the bus was stuck in the traffic jam. From the window I could see few men gathered around a table inside a tavern. Only a candle was trying to keep away the dark though it was not very dark outside. Small glasses reflected the light of the candle and I knew what those glasses had. They were filled with booze. I looked at my watch which said 4:45. What made the glasses fill so early? Did the men have to go home early? I knew the answer was no. Time had nothing to do with their thirst for the booze. Night does not start at the time of a clock, it starts when the curtains of the day is drawn.
At a little distance, the road narrowed and the bus had to move so close by the walls of people home that the twigs and the branches of the trees and plants from the homes extended as if they wanted to shake hand with the passengers. The leaves of these plants had thick layer of dust and clay. When it will rain they would bath to be pure and holy and as soon as the very rain stops they would be covered in the sins of dust again.
I got down at my place and it was already dark, students in their school uniform chased each other. They were just having fun; these are the things they will miss when they will come out of schools and of colleges.
Today the roads look vacant, I need not wait to cross the road. A shivering beggar lying with her knees pulled up to her chest draws my attention. I bend to spill three coins, one rupee each before her. I see her face when she pulls her tattered shawl to collect the coins. I know her, I have seen her in her good days, in the days when her husband was alive. In the days she had no mercy for her step sons. Her husband died young and her very step sons kicked her out of home and there she lies looking for mercies from those who don’t know her. I move on and there is no thoughts of her, no thoughts of anything but just the desire to reach home as early as possible to read the book. At home the first thing I do is write this piece again with no story with no content.
1 comment:
wow very well written. It was quite graphic. u r so very observant Restless! :)
I feel sorry for the lady u mentioned towards the end of the post.
Keshi.
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