The street was pretty much deserted save for a few passersby who vacated the scene as quickly as they came in. The weather was pleasant (for once, thank god!) with cool breeze rustling the dry leaves on the ground now and then. A few vehicles whizzed past giving a brief glimpse of the occupants inside. Silence dominated the road. Not a dog barked, nor did any vehicle honk. Except for the occasional rustling of the leaves, the street was devoid of any sound at all.
A sole, dilapidated shelter with its roof (what was left of it atleast) caved in stood in the street with its stone rubble that served as a seat (supposedly). The previous government was supposed to’ve ‘revamped’ these shelters but somehow seemed to’ve missed this one. To any onlooker, it might’ve seemed empty; except, on a closer look, there stood a young lady almost restlessly. I guess that’s an understatement. Restless could not be the world; impatient, frustrated, etc etc might come up to it. Hardly. Grrrr.
Having had a bad day, I dragged my feet to that solitary place hoping to get some peace by scheduling a meet with a certain somebody. Who as always, never turned up on time. If there was a stipulated time that is. Argh. Waiting is such a pain. Especially waiting for this guy. No phone to call up. Absolutely no scope for anticipation, and calculations always, always goes wrong. The most pissing off thing is that, he cannot be controlled, demanded or made to arrive at the time I want him to come. A big, big setback. Urgh.
The wait began. And what a frustrated, painful wait it was.
At 5 minutes, I plugged in my ear phones and perched atop one dilapidated stone structure. It did hurt my butt.
At 10, I hummed ‘paradise’ and pretended not to look bored. No guys to look at either.
At 15, I looked this way and at all the people who walked past. Not at all a good idea on my part.
At 25, I fidgeted with my ear phone wire in addition to staring at the people walking past. They stared back.
At 30, I heard some honking and ran to look who……a Volkswagen. I scowled.
At 35, I started cussing. Whoa, 30 mins without cussing sure was a feat for me. 30 long minutes. But my peace was yet to shatter.
At 40, I began panicking. What the hell is with this guy? Never on time and testing my patience. Bah! The worst thing was, I wouldn’d be able to even raise my voice at him or pick a fight. A pity.
Always happens. Sad part is, the scowl cant be seen either.
At 45, I scowled and made faces at the people who walked past. They frowned, the ones in the cars. Lucky bastards.
At 50, my peace shattered. My blood level rose, my tolerance level hit zero and I kicked a stone and hurt my toe. I cussed louder this time. That ***********!
I was sick of looking up everytime I heard a vehicle arrive and lower my head in exasperation when it wasn’t who i was expecting. Close to an hour and still waiting! Enormous patience and unlimited cussing and wringing of hands on my part. Too bad I couldn’t wring any necks.
At 55, I lost all hope and sat with furious tears streaming down my cheeks. Its one thing to cry when you’re sad and heart broken but another when you’re pissed big time and all you can do is cry buckets in some public place. The feeling’s pathetic.
At 60, I gave up and sat back as the sky changed colour. Here’s the thing: I couldn’t leave the place without transport. All the more intriguing right?
At 65, my eyes could detect something large come into focus, which fortunately, thank god, had two golden letters written on it “6D”!
I GOT MY BLOODY BUS! HOORAY MTC!!!!! WELL DONE! was what I wanted to scream right then and there…..but my jaw dropped instead.
My mouth formed “SHIT!” and my middle finger shot up, in an impulse.
For, the bus was jam packed……making it impossible to board it. I wouldn’t even have gotten past the freaking footboard even if I had tried to squeeze past. The time was 18:15 hours. I wanted to pelt the bus with stones. Bloody MTC.
What I can never understand
MTC’s bus dispersion schedule and arrival tactic/strategy. Never on time, on schedule and has its own schedule and frequency.
EVERYTIME I wait for my bus, ONLY that particular bus doesn’t show up. All the others stroll in happily every 5 minutes. The frequency is jaw dropping. Except, when I wait for that particular bus. At that precise minute, frequency drops to sub zero I guess.
I can never, ever understand that.
Fuck you, MTC. Maybe the next time (if at all) my bus comes on time, i should sing the driver/conductor praises to what, encourage him?
Or maybe i should give him chocolates.
Or booze! Yeah thats a better idea.
That dilapidated shelter btw, happens to the famed “bus stand”.