The misfortunes of a bus journey

BENGALURU: I can sleep anywhere, and eat anything. My only fear with overnight journeys is the utter lack of control over my bowel movements. It’s an aspect of human life that isn’t discussed enough. I have met people with bowel movements as smooth as Michael Jackson in his early days. They wake up in the morning, take a newspaper, and get the job done with military precision. My bowel movements resemble the antics of a rebellious teenager. 

Now, buses aren’t the most conducive mode of transport. They stop for breaks and the men partake in a tribal ritual: step out, find a lonely spot, check for wild animals, and get the job done. However, if you’re struggling with Priority No.2, you have to start believing in God again. The toilets are enough to scar you for life. Buses go the extra mile by providing you with amenities that make matters worse - a packet of the mixture, a sandwich, and a bottle of water.

Having avoided all temptations, I was proud of myself for averting a disaster. But God and my stomach work in mysterious ways. Before I knew it, I felt a kick in my stomach!

I swiftly walked to the driver. Now, bus drivers have a difficult job. They are inundated with requests for stoppages, hotels, and chai breaks. They cannot listen to songs, or watch a movie. Unlike trains, children from India’s hinterland don’t wave at bus drivers with smiles on their faces. One wrong move and you could wake up in a bus full of people ready to curse you. 

The driver of my bus was a determined man. When I requested a halt, he looked at me through the rearview mirror like Amrish Puri looked at Shah Rukh Khan in Koyla. However, I have worked in call centres and been trained in persistence. I pleaded my case fervently. Finally, the driver stopped. 

I hopped off the bus and rushed to my destination, only for my worst nightmares to come true. I ran from bathroom to bathroom, rejecting one horror after another. I was a Kafkaesque character unable to step out of a nightmare. There come moments in your life when you have to make an executive decision.

With my water bottle in hand, I ran into the forest – screaming and cursing like Rishab Shetty in Kantara. In my life, I have gone from god-fearing to atheist to agnostic. But here I was, involuntarily shooting up prayers to God above. ‘Dear God. We haven’t been on great terms but kindly process my request. You have created all creatures on earth – from snakes to wild boars. Kindly keep your creations away from me for a few minutes. 

I am going to leave out the details of my misery, but let me just say this. 

I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. As I prayed and cursed and looked around like a meerkat, I got the job done and ran back to my bus. When I reached the bus, I found other people waiting with questions in their eyes. I looked at them and shook my head. He understood my message and shook his head in agony. We boarded the bus – both victims of our nation’s terrible sanitation policy.

The bus driver threw me a judgmental look – with all the arrogance of a man with perfect bowel movements. Just as I hopped onto the bus, I shot a bonus prayer to God – for being born a man in this country. This story has a moral at the end – Avoid Overnight Bus Journeys! Thank you.

BENGALURU: I can sleep anywhere, and eat anything. My only fear with overnight journeys is the utter lack of control over my bowel movements. It’s an aspect of human life that isn’t discussed enough. I have met people with bowel movements as smooth as Michael Jackson in his early days. They wake up in the morning, take a newspaper, and get the job done with military precision. My bowel movements resemble the antics of a rebellious teenager.  Now, buses aren’t the most conducive mode of transport. They stop for breaks and the men partake in a tribal ritual: step out, find a lonely spot, check for wild animals, and get the job done. However, if you’re struggling with Priority No.2, you have to start believing in God again. The toilets are enough to scar you for life. Buses go the extra mile by providing you with amenities that make matters worse - a packet of the mixture, a sandwich, and a bottle of water. Having avoided all temptations, I was proud of myself for averting a disaster. But God and my stomach work in mysterious ways. Before I knew it, I felt a kick in my stomach! I swiftly walked to the driver. Now, bus drivers have a difficult job. They are inundated with requests for stoppages, hotels, and chai breaks. They cannot listen to songs, or watch a movie. Unlike trains, children from India’s hinterland don’t wave at bus drivers with smiles on their faces. One wrong move and you could wake up in a bus full of people ready to curse you.  The driver of my bus was a determined man. When I requested a halt, he looked at me through the rearview mirror like Amrish Puri looked at Shah Rukh Khan in Koyla. However, I have worked in call centres and been trained in persistence. I pleaded my case fervently. Finally, the driver stopped.  I hopped off the bus and rushed to my destination, only for my worst nightmares to come true. I ran from bathroom to bathroom, rejecting one horror after another. I was a Kafkaesque character unable to step out of a nightmare. There come moments in your life when you have to make an executive decision. With my water bottle in hand, I ran into the forest – screaming and cursing like Rishab Shetty in Kantara. In my life, I have gone from god-fearing to atheist to agnostic. But here I was, involuntarily shooting up prayers to God above. ‘Dear God. We haven’t been on great terms but kindly process my request. You have created all creatures on earth – from snakes to wild boars. Kindly keep your creations away from me for a few minutes.  I am going to leave out the details of my misery, but let me just say this.  I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. As I prayed and cursed and looked around like a meerkat, I got the job done and ran back to my bus. When I reached the bus, I found other people waiting with questions in their eyes. I looked at them and shook my head. He understood my message and shook his head in agony. We boarded the bus – both victims of our nation’s terrible sanitation policy. The bus driver threw me a judgmental look – with all the arrogance of a man with perfect bowel movements. Just as I hopped onto the bus, I shot a bonus prayer to God – for being born a man in this country. This story has a moral at the end – Avoid Overnight Bus Journeys! Thank you.