Confessions of an ITwallah - The Bus business

Life sucks!!! Yes, it really does. And, you feel the pinch even more intense when your anything but comfortable company bus is dragging its way on a dusty, humid and jam packed pot-holed road in a hamlet called Hinjewadi. This whole business of commuting by bus is a surreal one. You come running to the bus stop, you are late by a fraction of a minute, and you don’t see anyone around and after a while you agonizingly realize that it has dodged you. You make a vow to reach early next day, and actually reach the bus stop 10 minutes earlier only to find yourself waiting for next 25 minutes as bus is late. You travel with the people you feel you know but you don’t really know. On a non-descript day, I get into bus, and jump onto front seat which I don’t usually occupy, but on that day, I just happen to sit there.  On the next stop a lady gets in and starts giving me venomous looks, I get confused only to realize later that this is her usual seat. Suddenly, the usually benevolent bus starts having hick cups, the driver starts rolling the wheels with the speed of a jet and he has been possessed by a clone of Michael Schumacher. The mobile girls (those girls, who stick to mobile phones once they get into the bus and keep speaking in an ultrasonic tone and language that only their boyfriends and fiancés understand) find it a bit irritating.  Some of the over enthusiastic freshers on the back seatstry to take advantage of the situation and bang into the chic next to them. But, the real ordeal starts when the bus takes that fatal turn to Hinjewadi. The moment I hit that road, I feel as if the world has come to stand-still. Day by day, this crawling has taken a toll on me and has developed a phobia for traffic jams. Frustration is an understatement for my mental state. I take out my blackberry and start reading already read mails. In the meanwhile, I get jealous of co-passengers who easily doze off during the travel. I have this hugely irritating problem of not being able to fall asleep while travelling, and all the stress, all my worries start attacking my tiny brain during such hour. The bus somehow crawls upto that crowded, filthy Hinjewadi chowk and drops an anchor to satisfy the pot-bellied traffic police constable. My desperation to come out is reaching its peak, fresher enthusiasts don’t stop blabbering, mobile girls don’t stop indecipherable chatter, lucky ones don’t stop snoring and the poor driver and poor I can’t hide helpless apathy on our faces. I get a call from Chhagan. He says he can’t come today, that to an extent brings smile to my lips and suddenly it seems, I have become luckier, the bus picks up the pace, surprisingly, there are no more jams, the driver gets possessed by Schumacher once again and bang!!!In less than five minutes, I find myself getting down at the company gate, as I get down; I see my floor’s hot chic in hotter apparel and this time without her stud boyfriend around

“Not bad!!”, I mutter and start waiting for the elevator along with bunch of apathetic crowds men …