May 14, 2009


“Ticket, Ticket, Ticket, Ticket…Haanji, Ladshies Savaari, ticket, ticket !!”, shouts the dirty, unkempt bus conductor. Actually, there are almost five to ten conductors at our disposal in 764. They blare at us, keep us entertained about an hour or two, and very pleasingly, enquire about our families even if we try to shun them off.

Thus begins my journey through the rustic villages of Delhi every morning and by the time I reach college, I am already plotting murders very villainously. Hahaha…

Seriously, given a chance, I can devote a whole book on my adventures, rather misadventures of 764.
With only one foot on the board, I am almost hanging in the air, like the famous hanging gardens of Babylon and there goes the cacophony of Mr. Conductor, “ Medem, ( yes, that’s how they address us), ticket le lo” ….” Bhaiya, half ticket de do, abhi hawa mein lakti hun. Iam yet to board the bus!!”

With me, I have my laptop, my five- kilo bag ( if I don’t get a seat, I’ll unload the bag now and here itself.) and some other knick- knacks. I dart towards the ladies’ seat and call out to a Gabru Jawaan types, “ Bhaiya, ladies’ seat.”. Within a fraction of second I hear loud snoring and he peeps from his half-shut eyes if I am still around.

Another day, I asked one more Bhaiya Ji to vacate the seat and pat comes the reply, “ Medem, I have an injury near my waist. Want to see??? “Suddenly, he raises his Kurta up in the air to give me a better view. “ See??See??” …..What an ordeal!!!

Here’s another one: A well-fed Jaat aunty, wearing goggles and her seemingly best friend are enjoying their bus- ride.
Me: Aunty, can you please hold my bag? It’s quite heavy and Dwarka is very far off.”
Well-fed Aunty: Na Ji Na, I won’t. (to her friend) Who knows if she’s carrying a bomb or something? (glares back at me) Why don’t you keep it on the floor?
What I decipher is, aunty has legs of titanium. The bomb would devastate everything but her astoundingly sturdy legs would be intact. Super Aunty!!

This one’s my favorite:
One day, a Gabru jawaan was traveling with his girlfriend. Suddenly, another lady comes in and he had to forcibly get up to let her sit. Fuming with rage, he glared at a thin, fragile north- eastern guy. At the next stop, another lady joined the league. The north- eastern, too thin to withstand even a blow of air, started snoring. The Gabru tilts his head at exactly 110 degrees, with ishtyle, and calls out to the thin north-eastern “Chal uth…Ladiesh seat!! “ …Snoring continued…. The gabru pounced on him, took him by collar and showed him his “ Dhaai kilo ka haath!! “ A frail voice is heard “today is my fast; I cannot stand for too long. Please let me sit.” Some argument took place and the Gabru challenged him ,” Aaja bhidte hain( translated to C’mon, lets have a fight) . The bus stopped, the two guys got down the bus and a virtual boxing arena was formed. People watched wide-eyed, some preferred sleeping to such entertainment, one guy found pleasure in digging his nose. Before it could begin, the thin north- eastern vanished into thin air. Poof!!! The gabru smirked. His girlfriend showed a smug. I sighed with relief. Phew!!
The ordeal continues….Watch this space for more such (mis)adventures.

1 comment:

Arpita said...

Arre baby, how could you do away without mentioning the deadly concoction of five different body odours and the very musical haryanavi filmi music blasting in the background???(People from Haryana..Pls don't pounce on offense intended..Actually I'm not sure!hahahahahaha..Shut me up..plsssss).

Was an extremely mast read..Glad to get back to the funny side of you :) :)Muaaaaaaaah