Date: 1st August 2013
Whew! A smooth day paid me a visit. Right from 6:00 am in the morning up to now, it's been as melodious in its satin-esque drive as Pachelbel's harmonious free-flowing Canon in D Major! Not a blip of a false note crashed into this day's way nor did a trumpet blare its troubles into its ears either. What's more! This marvellous pretty day made it a point to keep all those patches of anxiety and ire at an arm's distance from me as well!
You see I had decided to take the Pune Mahanagar Parivahan Mahamandal Limited (PMPML) bus to work today. Bus route no. 372 served that decision. It passes no further than a stone's throw from my apartment and deposits me no less than a walking distance of 11 minutes from my place of work. And I had been thinking about taking this bus for a while.
Why? You ask. Well, there are a couple of reasons:
As it is, he was a replacement for a fellow who was a shade better than him. So, initially, he was this schoolboy willing to please and win favour in the sight of his teachers. But once the favour was won, which took less than a week to be accomplished, out came the naughty boy!
He began to drive like a maniac on the roads. He cared not what he drove under and cared nothing at all for those whom he drove around. Come pothole, murky road, or filthy lane, the bus just had to be driven at the same speed no matter life was at risk, limb was atremble, and stomach was aflutter.
I tried to put some sense in him. "Forget about us," I had said to him some weeks ago when we made it in one piece to stop at a signal near Nigdi, "Think about yourself. Think about your life. Don't you think you need to care about your life at least if not ours?"
I expected him to write a sheepish smile on to his face, nod his head, and proceed at a comfortable speed once the signal turned green. Instead, he looked behind at me as if he thought he had heard me say something, decided not to pursue that thought, cracked his knuckles, sped away, and made the bus enthusiastic enough to want to hurl us from our seats down on to the floor! It took all the restraint that we could muster to not allow that to happen!
A few days later, I thought I'll try asking my fellow passengers to talk to him about his greedy need for speed. After all, they travelled via the same bus, they too worked for the same company as I did, and so, I felt they'll be spirited enough to use their eloquence for something that affected their and my nerves as well.
Well, I was wrong.
They did let their tongues roll out the right sentences:
"I know! How he drives! Goodness me!"
"Really! He DOES need to slow down!"
"Who drives like this?! In my previous company no? They had such good drivers I tell you."
But neither the goodness of me nor the recognized need to slow down - not even the memory of the good drivers from the previous company of yore - got them to open their mouths and tell the driver to behave! Of course, they did open their mouths but stayed true to the cloth of their nationality: They tried to tell him off and yet be in his good books!
It's one or the other, really. That I realized long long ago. No two ways about that. But the population at large and this set of colleagues in particular haven't quite stumbled upon that piece of wisdom. And so, they did just what I half expected them to do: They used words and sentences that meant to reprimand the driver but drowned them all in nervous fleeting laughter ladled with a sugary tone.
Naturally then, if they bundled what they had to say with such frivolity, the driver will not have had taken that bundle seriously. And that's exactly what happened: He laughed when he heard them all, said yes yes right right, revved up the engine, and got the bus to break into a devilish run.
There was nothing else left to do other than to opt out. That way, I will have my peace of mind and some adventure as well. I was fed up of the predictably rash travails the company bus had to offer - apart from the long walks it made me undertake - and it was high time I felt alive among people in a bus that had character, characters, and some surprise. And all that I knew then and I know now the PMPML buses can provide. And provided me with all that they did.
Day one has been simply fabulous. I had a lot to see, a lot to observe, and a whole lot to revise my inferences about. And I'll tell you more about all that a little later.
For now, listen to me one more time (before I doze off in bed) as I say: This day has been splendid. And I hope the day that drops in tomorrow wears the same spirit as well!
Whew! A smooth day paid me a visit. Right from 6:00 am in the morning up to now, it's been as melodious in its satin-esque drive as Pachelbel's harmonious free-flowing Canon in D Major! Not a blip of a false note crashed into this day's way nor did a trumpet blare its troubles into its ears either. What's more! This marvellous pretty day made it a point to keep all those patches of anxiety and ire at an arm's distance from me as well!
You see I had decided to take the Pune Mahanagar Parivahan Mahamandal Limited (PMPML) bus to work today. Bus route no. 372 served that decision. It passes no further than a stone's throw from my apartment and deposits me no less than a walking distance of 11 minutes from my place of work. And I had been thinking about taking this bus for a while.
Why? You ask. Well, there are a couple of reasons:
- To begin with, I had gotten fed up of my company bus: I had to walk nearly 20 minutes to where it had decided to wait for me.
- And secondly, the driver was a nuisance as well!
As it is, he was a replacement for a fellow who was a shade better than him. So, initially, he was this schoolboy willing to please and win favour in the sight of his teachers. But once the favour was won, which took less than a week to be accomplished, out came the naughty boy!
He began to drive like a maniac on the roads. He cared not what he drove under and cared nothing at all for those whom he drove around. Come pothole, murky road, or filthy lane, the bus just had to be driven at the same speed no matter life was at risk, limb was atremble, and stomach was aflutter.
I tried to put some sense in him. "Forget about us," I had said to him some weeks ago when we made it in one piece to stop at a signal near Nigdi, "Think about yourself. Think about your life. Don't you think you need to care about your life at least if not ours?"
I expected him to write a sheepish smile on to his face, nod his head, and proceed at a comfortable speed once the signal turned green. Instead, he looked behind at me as if he thought he had heard me say something, decided not to pursue that thought, cracked his knuckles, sped away, and made the bus enthusiastic enough to want to hurl us from our seats down on to the floor! It took all the restraint that we could muster to not allow that to happen!
A few days later, I thought I'll try asking my fellow passengers to talk to him about his greedy need for speed. After all, they travelled via the same bus, they too worked for the same company as I did, and so, I felt they'll be spirited enough to use their eloquence for something that affected their and my nerves as well.
Well, I was wrong.
They did let their tongues roll out the right sentences:
"I know! How he drives! Goodness me!"
"Really! He DOES need to slow down!"
"Who drives like this?! In my previous company no? They had such good drivers I tell you."
But neither the goodness of me nor the recognized need to slow down - not even the memory of the good drivers from the previous company of yore - got them to open their mouths and tell the driver to behave! Of course, they did open their mouths but stayed true to the cloth of their nationality: They tried to tell him off and yet be in his good books!
It's one or the other, really. That I realized long long ago. No two ways about that. But the population at large and this set of colleagues in particular haven't quite stumbled upon that piece of wisdom. And so, they did just what I half expected them to do: They used words and sentences that meant to reprimand the driver but drowned them all in nervous fleeting laughter ladled with a sugary tone.
Naturally then, if they bundled what they had to say with such frivolity, the driver will not have had taken that bundle seriously. And that's exactly what happened: He laughed when he heard them all, said yes yes right right, revved up the engine, and got the bus to break into a devilish run.
There was nothing else left to do other than to opt out. That way, I will have my peace of mind and some adventure as well. I was fed up of the predictably rash travails the company bus had to offer - apart from the long walks it made me undertake - and it was high time I felt alive among people in a bus that had character, characters, and some surprise. And all that I knew then and I know now the PMPML buses can provide. And provided me with all that they did.
Day one has been simply fabulous. I had a lot to see, a lot to observe, and a whole lot to revise my inferences about. And I'll tell you more about all that a little later.
For now, listen to me one more time (before I doze off in bed) as I say: This day has been splendid. And I hope the day that drops in tomorrow wears the same spirit as well!
Comments
Whenever they got complaints of rash driving they would assign that driver to another route. When folks on that bus complained he would be moved to another route...we had one for the Vashi bus who was rotated and assigned back on that route again after a while...