Wish

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 12; the twelfth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

I was deep asleep, probably dreaming, when my Mom suddenly nudged me and breathed life into my motionless body. I was too fast asleep to respond to her. Finally half asleep, I asked her, what was the time? It was 4.30 in the morning. I shouted at her for waking me up in the middle of the night for no reason. But she was persistent and determined to wake me up. I finally got up after half an hour and tried to figure out in my mind, why am I being asked to get up so early? Everything my Mom had said that morning had fallen on deaf ears. Finally after much deliberation, I figured out, I had a class to attend at Dadar at 7 in the morning. Today was my first day. And guess what, I was already running late :( I again started shouting at Mom for waking me up so late. Didn't she know, I would be late for my classes? It takes more than an hour for me to get ready, and then another hour or so to go from Kharghar to Dadar, that too, if you get a Dadar ST on time and with a Schumacher like driver in command. I guess it was my Mom's turn now to ignore my words. She silently went about her morning errands; kept a cup of warm milk, for me, on the dinning table, took out an ironed Shirt and a Trouser from the Almira and neatly placed them on my bed followed by a handkerchief and then my belt. Such a thankless job, considering I was her elder son.


I got ready within no time (45 mins approximately) and left for my classes though still shouting at my Mom for getting me late. 10 mins passed by and still no sign of a bus. As usual, you ask yourself, "Why Me?" and "Why today?". I must have cursed every single person associated with waking me up early today and getting me late; right from the professor who had scheduled a class at midnight (7 AM is not too far from midnight, at least for me), when half the world is asleep, to the State Transport Dept, who schedule their buses at such random intervals and then my friends who encouraged me to join these coaching classes. I was seething with anger; anger which was as much directed towards others as it was towards myself. I guess someone feared Armageddon and sent out a Lal Dabba (Maharashtra State Transport buses are painted Red). As the bus neared, I prayed to someone (definitely not God, as I am a Non Believer), that this should not turn out to be a Thane or a Belapur ST. To my relief, it was indeed a Dadar ST. However, now the problem was, will the driver even stop the bus at the bus stop as I could see people precariously hanging off the last pieces of metal protruding out of the body of the bus. The bus did slow down as someone had to get down at my stop. However, it stopped a good 100 meters from the designated point. There was no time for any further driver bashing or cribbing about the state of public transport. I ran after the bus as it crossed me and finally latched on to a window rod until I could find enough space to rest my one foot on the last step of the staircase. My left hand holding on to the window rod and my right hand performing the dual job of holding my notebook and latching on to the bar on the side of the stairway. That's how I managed to keep myself alive and on time for my class. However, my most sincere thanks went out to the person who got down at Kharghar on a pilgrimage, courtesy whom I could now be less late.


No sooner did that noble thought, of thanking someone, crossed my mind, I started feeling the pain in my arms and legs which was the result of hanging off the bus in an attempt to keep myself alive. I was back to my old self of cursing (only in my mind) the person hanging next to me for trying to dislodge me, so that he would have the luxury of keeping both his feet on the stairs and increase his chances of survival by 25%. His two hands and the other leg which was previously merrily resting on the last stair accounted for the balance 75%. As I was fighting my battle for survival of my species (species named Mayur, of which I was the first born), the conductor shouted at the top of his voice "TICKET!!!". How on earth does he expect my left leg to curl backwards, take out the wallet from my back pocket, and then reach further upwards to hand him (actually leg him) the fare through the window (from outside). I was again burning with anger. As the bus stopped at the next stop, I tried to jostle my way up the stairs. It was tough, but I no longer cared who got hurt. I handed over the fare to the conductor and gave him a few words of advise to not jeopardise any ones life while he is holding on by a thin margin. Seemed like, he was used to a daily dose of verbal abuse and so disregarded my golden words. This got me even more angry. Anyways, I diverted my mind into thinking about how late I am going to get for my class and what all 'gaalis' I will be getting from my so called friends. Huh!...I gave out a sigh of despair.


The crowd started thinning as the bus approached Anushakti Nagar (B.A.R.C). Almost 45 mins had passed by since I boarded the bus. By now I had been pushed and pushed till I reached the first seat behind the driver. I was still standing, and looking straight out of the front windscreen. My mind was completely blank or I just wasn't able to recall anything that I had been thinking about for the past three quarters of an hour. This was so typical of me;absent-minded me at my best. Suddenly someone nudged me from behind and said "Anushakti?". I replied back saying "Yes" (thought he was confirming what the next stop is). As the bus stopped, he asked me to get down. I was dumbstruck for a moment; why would someone tell me where to get down? I let him get past me and disembark, but not before we exchanged a few niceties. In the meanwhile, I grabbed his seat behind the driver and I was now facing every single person sitting in the bus. Made me feel slightly uncomfortable. I wanted to be alone and in my own world. Looking at those pale and sickly faces at 6.30 in the morning wasn't the most enjoyable experiences one would like to have at the dawn of the day.

However, there was this little kid (maybe in 3rd-4th std) sitting right opposite to me, peeping out of the window. She seemed completely oblivious to the happenings inside the bus, and into a world of her own. I kept looking at her every now and then, but she was so completely at ease with herself that she didn't mind my occasional glance. She was in her school uniform, probably going to a govt. school, judging by the Blue and White dress. She had a cute chubby face, her hair weaved into twin short braids with red ribbons intertwined and two little golden earrings as her only ornament. She also had a tiny 'bindi' on her forehead which further accentuated her simplicity. She would follow each passing vehicle overtaking us and then the next. And then she would look around saying to herself, "Why on earth are people so pissed off with life?" Just looking at her would bring a smile on your face :) (it still does, thinking about her). Suddenly, Asha Miss's (my Chemistry teacher in 7th std) words echoed in my ears "School Days are the Golden days of your life, where you get sad about petty things but remain happy most of the time". I reflected upon the happenings in my life in the last few days and realized how stupid I was to crib over some silly issues, almost non issues.


And then suddenly, as to wake me up from my day dream, she got up and got down from the bus. It was a sudden shock to see her go. How I wished she had stayed back just a little longer. But I was more glad to see her in the first place than to rue her going away. She was an Unlikely Angel who made my day. She helped me salvage my day and not ruin it any further. Although we didn't speak a word, but I guess we acknowledged each other's presence. Too much to expect of a kid..huh!
I hoped against hope that I get to see her every morning that I travel on this route at 6 in the morning. And guess what, someone fulfilled my wish and there she was on my next bus journey, one week from then.


But that was the day "W(hen) I S(aw) H(er)" for the first time!

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