Route number 524

Going home has become rare for me these days, now that I have finally convinced my parents that they should let me enjoy my last few months of IIT hostel life, and also that my being at home is not going to be so interesting once I come back in May, my job now being in Mumbai. As a consequence I was not surprised to learn today at the bus stop that the BEST route number 498 for Borivli, which used to be my favourite route (shortest and cheapest) has been discontinued for over a couple of months now. That meant that I had to wait for bus no. 524, which was something that I had always avoided (longest and most expensive).

Standing with me at this bus stop was this cute girl. I would say she would be about my age, give or take a few months. I have this strange habit where I always try guessing a girl's age whenever I spot one, and then try analysing what type she would be looking at her choice of footwear. Thing is, I have until now seen so many different types of such cases, that I am never bored of this routine of mine - there is always something new to be noticed. So anyway, coming back to this particular girl, I would say she was about my age, perhaps did some 3 year undergrad from somewhere, and is now happily settling into her first job. Her attractive black sandals and her smart dressing sense gave me the impression that she may be in the services sector - perhaps HR, or IT or consulting or something.

As is always the case, the bus that I wish to take never comes within the first 5 - 10 minutes of me reaching the bus stop. It seemed to me that this girl also shared a similar fate. Not one who wants to be caught staring, I was stealing little glances at her, trying to confirm my suspicions of her personality (it always is a good feeling to know that I can really analyse how other people think by inferring their personality from their social image). After about 2 minutes of waiting, she got a phone call. The ringtone was some familiar tune that I could not place, but the monophonic notes ensuing from her cellphone somehow shook my beliefs of her coming from a services background, as I have always felt people there should own some pretty good cellphones with some real smart ringtones (that being the reason why I have my eyes set upon the w960i that I'll buy as soon as I start my job, as I don't see my Nokia 2300 fitting into my consulting job profile). Anyway, I remember I saw a bright smile on her face when she checked her phone screen to see who was calling. Her first words 'Hi sweetie' told me that I better not listen to the rest of the conversation to avoid embarrassment for both of us, if she would notice me spying.

I think her call lasted a good part of 4 minutes or so. About 4 buses headed for Andheri station passed meanwhile, with no Borivli bound bus in sight. What started out as a happy call was not turning out to be so good with time passing by. I heard her shout a 'What' followed by an almost tearful 'How could you' and a question that started with a 'but', that was left unasked. I don't think she formally ended the call, as there was no goodbye said, nor any 'I don't want to hear from you ever again' either. Then she took out a neatly folded white handkerchief with some flowery pattern from her handbag (or purse or something that it was - I felt it was too big to be called a purse and too small to qualify for a handbag. But then I have seen many girls carrying those, so I guess it is pretty normal to own one) and silently wiped her eyes. That happy look that I had seen in them earlier was now lost somewhere.

I was almost tempted to approach her and ask if something was wrong and if I could be of any help. Or perhaps start a conversation by asking her if she needed some water, my faithful water bottle always being at my disposal. Or perhaps I could have said 'Not to pry, but are you okay? Do you want me to hail you an auto or something?' But I didn't. I always choose to stay away from girls - especially strangers. I saw her taking out a small little gift that was still unopened (I would never know if it was gifted to her or if she had bought it for someone). She gave it a long look and I had no idea what she would be thinking of then. Perhaps that gift meant a lot to her. Or perhaps it now bore no significance at all. She gave it one tearful kiss and then hurled it into the empty dustbin close by that until now seemed to serve no purpose at all. She then caught me looking at her. I tried giving her my best sympathetic look and was about to ask her 'Everything okay miss?' But then she smiled. It looked like a smile that says 'Yes don't worry. I am okay.' Then she called out to an auto, told him where she wanted to go, and got in. No goodbye. I wasn't expecting one either.

A minute later my 524 came by. I was lucky it wasn't crowded - it's a hell of an experience traveling standing in crowded buses on Bombay's unkempt roads; especially the highways. And when the conductor pulled on to the hanging cord twice and as I heard the familiar 'Ting ting' sound, I couldn't stop thinking what that gift now lying in the dustbin could contain.

Happy Valentine's day!

(I meant to write this post on that day itself, but I was quite busy doing other irrelevant and unimportant things, hence the delay).