Our little village and some of the going ons that transpire within.

Dec 5, 2007

You can keep the Porsche !!!

All roads lead to Rome and in Bandra they lead to the station. Wheter you live at Bandstand or at Carter Road on the reclaimation or Pali Hill. You wait a few minutes and along comes the big red bus. So you jump over the feet of the junkie who is chasing heaven over a piece of foil behind the bus stop and clamber aboard. If it's rush hour you hang out of the door with all the grace of a Gemini Circus trapeze artist hanging onto his swing. Until the crowd surges inside and you get a foothold on the steps. A balancing act still, but you're not swinging free every time the bus makes a turn. A gaggle of school girls and a school of Kohli fisherwoman in front of you stop you from reaching the conductor. Since Mohammed can't reach the mountain the mountain comes to Mohammed. For the princely sum of a rupee you are on your way to Bandra station. College and school students, office goers, all thrown together on this ship. The Captain [ Ok Driver ] navigates thru the perilous waters of Turner road with it's dug up trenches and jaywalkers and Maruti minnows daring to challenge the might of this BEST whale. Picking up people at every stop and once in the middle of the road when flagged down by an off duty policeman ? Fellow Driver ? Brother-in-law ? He's allowed to get in from the front of the bus. He's not old and he's not infirm. The कसा hai and the बररा hai are exchanged and he's allowed to perch on the bar seperating the Captain from the crew. One of the Kohli women is waving her koyta at one of the office goers who'se front came to close to her back. The Captain gets into the home stretch but suddenly screeches to a stop in tandem with the bus coming in the opposite direction. The Captains are friends. So there they sit discussing the price of copper shares in Bolivia while the world and their dog are trying to get by them to make the 7.51 local to Churchgate. With a wave and a honk we're off again. To be deposited right outside the station where a blue uniformed T.C. checks each person for a ticket as they get off the bus. Right next to him is a Hijra who'se breaks into smile and promises you children as numerous as the sands of the sea for the loose change in your pocket. The Captains brother in law does'nt have a ticket and the Captain has to intervene to keep him fineless. The Captains off again round the masjid and into the depot where he hands over command and repairs into the canteen for a glass of hot tea and hotter bhajias while he hangs up his uniform shirt in the staff room while scracthing his belly thru his half sleeved banian with the satisfaction of a job well done.

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