Remember my last post about “A shitty day”?
Thank you so much to everyone who liked and appreciated it. Well, that was something out of my head, that was the “Writer Me“, and here today, I bring to you the “Journalist Me“.
It was another pleasant day in the metropolitan city, a Friday- You know how much importance a Friday holds! Yes? I woke up late as usual because I forgot to put on an alarm. I quickly took a hot shower, had an aloo parantha, packed another two for lunch and took the metro to the office.
After I had wrapped up my work at the office, I planned to go visit my parents for it was their wedding anniversary. I fought a lot with my father because he told me that I’d be late being the typical Me and I promised him, I’ll reach on time. We had a family dinner planned after they’d all pick me up from the bus stand. So, I leave the office on time, journey planned to the capital city and then, a 200-minutes bus ride to home. Yasssss!
Waiting for something bad?
I bumped into my friend outside my office(should I link his profile here? 😛) and he suggested to me that I should take a bus from here itself. Why go to Delhi? Well, always open to suggestions, I agreed.
Half an hour later, I ran into an unknown bus stand, find only one last bus to my city and get in the women’s line. 20 minutes later, lucky I had been, I got the very last bus seat ticket in my hand. As I turned around, I found another 25 men running towards the bus.
I was eager to reach home. I took the seat on the bus and plugged in my earphones. You know it hurts bad at the very last seat, right? Very bad! But yeah, at least I had a seat.
90 minutes later, I was done. I had my back and legs hurting sitting at the most uncomfortable seat on the planet, a tau smoking at the other end of the seat, people screaming at the driver for the high speed and yes, someone stole conductor’s bag. I can’t tell you how much, but it was worth a lot with all those tickets in that bag.
They stopped the bus and we had police at the scene. “The conductor was gonna lose his job.” We stood there for more than 40 minutes that even the man in front of me ordered his Cheese onion pizza from a nearby shop. Lucky him!
The bus finally moved, 300 m ahead to the police station and there we were back again, to file an FIR. The people sitting beside me were so nice to offer me food and crack jokes, time and again. But, living in a world like this, where I don’t trust people and experienced why even the nice ones aren’t trusted. They were nice, my instincts weren’t.
I called my brother to cancel the family celebration, and sat there mad waiting for the bus comprising of 90% male passengers to move, complaining!
Finally after 90 minutes of drama, when we got moving, I had my back hurting again and my heart crying for spoiling my family dinner. And sometime later, I heard some whisperings next to me. You know the tau who was smoking earlier, he was searching for his bag of food under the seat, and alas! He found the conductor’s bag and went back to cribbing because it was his bag which was lost.
In that moment, I saw more than 70 people who didn’t know each other, laughing together and making puns. I didn’t feel any pain and I wasn’t sad anymore. I wasn’t alone in that moment. I could listen to the laughs and watch the grinning faces. I could hear myself laugh. I felt so proud of myself. Because nothing bad happened, nothing. This is the beautiful mess, you keep acknowledging everything around you, you smile and you cry and you move on.
The bus stopped again and the driver refused to go any further. At that roadside dhaba, every passenger from this bus ran to another 2 buses standing nearby. Standing in a bus with about 100 passengers, strangers cracking jokes to each other, discussing politics and the metropolitan city and 4 fights later, I finally reached my town.
I thanked the people who were nice to me, finally got home and 30 minutes before the day ended, celebrated with my family. We all ate cake and laughed and laughed, and told our stories to each other.
Your shitty day will always bring something good. I’m always skeptical about people, but I found out that there are wonderful people around us too. I experienced what the actual Haryana Roadways are. I experienced the actual struggles people go through, day in and day out which we living in our comfort zone don’t realize. I noticed how people find comfort in the most uncomfortable situations.
Yes, that’s why I call it the beautiful mess. My beautiful mess!