Essays

The time has just past six in the evening. It has been raining for almost three hours and the roads are wet, the pavements are wet and a lot of commuters are wet, Many are parked under the massive concrete shelter which is the new bus station. Buses plying on some routes are packed to capacity while on other routes, they have only a few passengers.

Spread out over the passenger area are a large number of commuters. Some are holding umbrellas in their hands. Some are wearing raincoats while others are in varying degree of wetness. 1 can see weary faces sitting huddled-up on the few benches available in the bus shelter. A group of youngsters sit on the pavement. There is not a face that emits joy. Everybody is preoccupied with going home/ away from the wetness and the overpowering roar of the after-work crowd. I stand with my group of friends near a large pillar. Our bus is late- Maybe the rain has delayed it. I think of the warm food and warm bath waiting for me at home and I become impatient. We exchange some comments about the stupid weather. Nobody laughs.

It is close to six thirty. The crowd is getting worse. A nearby school has just released the children and we can see them making a beeline for the bus station, Soon the atmosphere becomes stifling. There are so many children all over the place. Their agility irritates us. Our nerves are already frayed by the prolonged waiting and now these overactive kids have come to bug us. Some smaller ones have even started playing 'catch'. They run all over the passenger area. Some adults scream at them. Obviously, I am not the only irritable one.

More buses come, but not the one I want to get into. Some are school buses. Before they stop, I can see the school children rushing to get on board. Conductors shout obscenities at them, The children check themselves a bit, then scramble for the seats again. Even the girls scramble for their seats- The desire to get home is very strong indeed.

By now it is getting dark. Lights lit at the bus station. Weary faces become clearer to see. Lights flash on in the buses too, revealing the packed conditions of most buses. The passengers seem to care less who is next to them. The main idea is to get back home as soon as possible.

Buses arrive and leave with their loads. Taxis and private cars join in the traffic. Horns hoot and raised voices cut through the cool air. I suppose that these taxis are taking advantage of the rains to get wilting passengers home- faster for a higher fare. Indeed I see people getting into the taxis and leaving the station. They do not get far. The immense incoming and outgoing traffic has created a traffic jam. Nobody is going to get very far in hurry.

At last, the accursed yellow bus that we have been waiting for, arrives. It stops a few feet from where I stand. Some passengers alight. When the last passenger gets down, I am the first one on the bus. My friends are close behind me. I sit down at the back and breathe a sigh of relief. In a very short time, the bus is completely full. The conductor has to prevent more people from boarding the bus. The driver pumps the accelerator impatiently. 'Chalo! announced the conductor and the bus moves on slowly.

I look at the waiting passengers in the bus station and wonder when they will get back home. It is almost completely dark now and the drizzle does not bring any cheer to them. Ah well, at least I am going home. We cannot go very fast. The traffic jam is still there. I gaze at the darkness outside.

Gradually I feel the bus getting out of the clutches of the traffic jam- We literally whizz away. I look at the huge lit clock beside the bus station. It is already past seven thirty.