Real,Unreal,Surreal ………… mind a jaunt ?

 

Real,Unreal,Surreal

     ………… mind a jaunt ?

A fortnight ago I purchased a packet of Idli batter from the Corner shop at Ashoka circle        ( Ballal Circle) and turned around to return home,.The First Bus from Srirampuram/ Jayanagar travelling to CBS , took a wide turn at the circle & screeched to a halt right in front of me. The door less  back entrance  was only inches away. Impulsively, I climbed onto the foot board. Only a few  passengers were seated inside……..    Quite understandable, as it was  6.15 in the morning.  The conductor enquired “Ellige” / (where to?). I bought a ticket to CBS and the bus moved along the deserted streets through Hardwicke Circle , Ramaswamy Circle, Sita Vilas Choultry, Lakshmi Talkies, Gun house, Hardinge Circle ,,K.R Circle and entered central Bus Stand. After alighting I enquired for Buses towards Ballal Circle .  Found one that  going to southern Railway Workshop. I asked for a ticket to Ballal circle . Without raising his head from his satchel, the conductor replied ‘Vasan Eye Care ! Retracing the same route backwards, the bus halted right in front of our Gates.  

At  home I experienced a strange sense of  excitement !.A city Bus ride after God knows how many years !

 The joy ride brought back memories of an earlier escapade to which I never attached any serious importance  till now. But the latest daftness and the recently acquired fetish to write down anything and everything has pushed me towards sharing an experience of  a “once in a lifetime ” bus journey.

It happened in 2012.Upon request, I jumped at the chance to visit Kodaikanal & fulfil certain responsibilities entrusted by a relative.

As there were no direct buses from Mysore to Kodaikanal, I boarded a TNTC bus to Palani at 8.00 pm.I’m mentioning   nothing for the comfort: shutter less open Windows, hard thin seat cushioning, minimum leg space……….  still if one wants a true local experience, the “line” buses of  Tamil Nadu are  the ones  that offer plenty of it.  More about it later.

The Bus reached Palani right on time at 4.45 am.the next morning. Night driving has its own advantages; Deserted town roads, no town congestion, comparatively low highway traffic.

Treating myself to hot tea at a much recommended  stall, I found it astonishing that steaming Idlis & Dosas were being offered at that unearthly hour !

I boarded a bus to Kodaikanal.  The seats filled up quickly and  the bus was on its way. After an hour it halted at  a way side eatery . A narrow  waterfall  was cascading from the mountain side . I used  the opportunity to brush my teeth .The ice cold water was refreshing.  After half a dozen whistle stops, the bus reached Kodai Bus station.

After completing the assignment It was time to return home after five days. Alighting at   Palani at 8.00 am , I found huge crowds thronging the Bus stand. Deepavali Festival was three days away . Worse, I gathered that there was no direct (“through”) bus to Mysore . A change in travel plan became inevitable. The universal advice was to “Take a Cut Bus” . And that was the beginning of an insane, rip-roaring rollercoaster ride through a torrent of events spread over the next eleven hours.

So cut bus it was ! .I somehow managed to jostle myself through, & entered  the 48 seater bus to Dharapuram which was already bursting at the seams with 70 odd ‘Passengers’ carrying along Baskets of Flowers. Bags of New clothing, sweets, savories, groceries,babies, kids, agricultural implements…….you name it !  

Outside,  rows of palm trees two-wheeler ,Bicycle & Pedestrian  traffic. sped past, Tamil movie songs blared inside.

Approaching Dharapuram, I saw hundreds of   make shift  shops that had been erected for the festive season.  Van loads of colorful flowers, garlands, banana stems, leaves & fruit, Dhotis, sarees, sweet meat, savories, bangles. Trinkets fire crackers, “ever silver” Utensils & goods of all types  were being unloaded.  Locals thronged  the market and were purchasing   essential items for the festival. Days before the ensuing   festival, the atmosphere was as vibrant and action packed as the festival day itself.

 There was sparkle in the eyes and a spring in everyone’s steps. After all, festivals are the only occasion when these self-effacing  people  can afford a slight relaxation of their austerity. & indulge in Wearing  new clothes, eating good food, visiting temples, splurging money on some modest luxuries and generally have a good time with family and friends.

Even as the bus was entering the Town bus station, people began tumbling out.

I enquired a conductor who was sipping tea standing on the platform about buses to Tirpur . He waved his hand, vaguely , to indicate  the general direction.

The good thing is that one  never needs to wait for more than 10 minutes anywhere for a line or Cut travelling towards the desired destination.

I soon found the “line” which was just leaving the bus station. This was less crowded; crammed only with about 60 people.  I was able to find   standing-room only. But didn’t regret – there was so much action happening around me. I even began enjoying the chaos. The crowd packed the aisles,  bodies shuddered  with every honk of the strange “musical” horn and arrogant twist & turns that the driver executed. A gaggle of women packed  up the front; some even sat on the metal bonnet covering the bus engine.  Women in Colorful sari &  oily, shiny plaited black hair  adorned with fresh flowers were chattering away.

Suddenly, the bus stopped.The conductor screamed!  Someone was travelling ticketless . He threatened that the bus wouldn’t move unless the miscreant stepped out  & bought  the ticket. I couldn’t believe what I heard !  How the hell was he able to count passengers in such a crowded bus?  20 minutes elapsed, the restless Passengers began to  argue  with the conductor. But he remained defiant .People disembarked and were milling around the bus aimlessly. After what seemed an eternity,a Police Jeep passing by  stopped to enquire.   .The policeman tried to convince the Conductor. He would not budge. Sensing the tension the officer paid the fare of a ticket and ordered the bus driver “எடுயா  வண்டிய”!** The journey continued.I have not seen anything like this happen anywhere. Was it :arrogance?,pompousness ? Or sincerity ? .Without  further hitch, the bus arrived at Tiruppur 

 By now, I  had gained some expertise in the art of “Bus Hopping” I got really lucky, vaulted onto the bus that was going towards Puliampatti. .This one was even less crowded. Only six people were standing on the aisle. I would be the seventh. Enquired about the duration of travel, the conductor informed me that being Festival season “Whistle stops”  ” Wave down” stops & “unscheduled” stops could be expected.  At the next whistle stop about 20  more passengers alighted. I immediately grabbed the window seat adjacent to the front entrance door .The bus grunted, groaned  and began moving  -.Surprisingly, there were no  passengers   standing ! But then, I never expected  that I would unwittingly be  playing  a role in what can be termed as an outrageous ,Insane  yet comical climax .

In the middle of nowhere the bus was waved down by a handful of people. While a few entered from the rear door , a lady balancing a large basket  on her head, an infant barely a year old clinging to the right side of her hip and a little girl holding  a large Aluminum tiffin carrier in her left  hand, clutching  her mother’s sari with her left was trying to board from the front side of the bus( usually reserved for Women) At that moment, a man from behind pushed his way forward and entered the bus. The Conductor (tamils are known for their zany sense of Humour & Sarcasm) thundered “இந்தாயா  நீ  பொம்பளேயா, ஆம்பளேயா?**Realizing his mistake, the embarrassed man apologized  தெரியலீங்க! ** Instantly, a cacophony of guffaws filled the bus.( a word can convey different meanings you see!)  Even as she was Staggering up the foot board, the lady looked in my direction casually thrust the infant on my thighs! and “Commanded”  இத்த கொஞ்சம் வாங்குங்க”** My arms reflexively wrapped around the brat sitting on my lap. I was livid and shaking with anger. But  words failed to came out of my mouth ( It was just opening and closing like a stranded fish) Gradually  Consoling myself that“difficult times  & the bus journey won't last forever”  I  regained   some composure and accepted my “Fate” In the meanwhile the elder kid was invited by a couple sitting in the adjacent  row to squeeze in between them. The conductor lifted the heavy Basket from the lady’s head and placed it on the wide dash board in front & exclaimed “என்மமா  ஏகப்பட்ட ஜாமான் வாகிருக்காப்ல? **

All the while, the little brat on my lap  looking smug turned around intermittently and gaped balefully at my face. I could not help cursing It ( Didn’t know if it was a boy or Girl) . At the next whistle stop, the conductor unloaded the basket ,the lady “plucked “ the little one from my lap got down with the elder kid and  without so much as a backward glance walked away.

 These quirks are what intrigued me most about bus travel in rural Tamil Nadu. Rather, it is  the little acts of spontaneous kindness amidst the bedlam that are so heart warming. Though every passenger isn’t seemingly cordial, there is some sort of common traveller empathy that is evident like an exhausted elderly man being offered a drink from the water bottle by a young lady occupying a seat on the other side of the aisle or, like me holding somebody’s baby in my lap! ( did I have a Choice?  It was ordained! ) . Neither requests are made nor deeds are proclaimed.

These delightful things rarely happen in  urban environments because of various social / societal barriers & obstructions.

The commotion and tumultuousness unnerved  me initially.Most rural areas I’ve visited earlier fell under the  stereotype of  peaceful and quiet villages (Dev Bhoomi Uttarakhand is an example) I wondered how people here enjoy the simplicity of rural living when there was so much noise. & commotion. But I now   understand . This  is the way of life here. And when I look right past the peculiarities, there’s that benevolence, empathy  and affinity which separates places like these from big cities.

To cut a long story short, the bus reached Puliyampatti. As if on cue, the Non stop bus going from Coimbatore to Mysore arrived . I boarded . I alighted from the Bus at Yele thota circle  on JLB Road junction., jumped into a waiting ‘auto’ and reached home at 7.30 pm.

                        And yes !   "सादगी से बड़ी कोई खूबसूरती नहीं है।"

 

  ** Used tamil words ,as only these can precisely convey moods & blunt sarcasm