Thursday, August 7, 2014
As a kid, I loved taking the public transport. Thirty five years ago, buses were not so crowded, and I lived in a cool (literally and metaphorically) part of the city. So waiting in the bus was a time to feel the breeze and check out all the fascinating humans who were around me.
The thrilling part was judging where exactly the bus would stop, and beat others running towards the steps and feel the movement of the heavy vehicle under your feet.
If I got a seat, I would put my head out like a dog and feel the breeze. I loved standing too, because my feet felt the buzz of the engine, and it was great to hold the bars and sway as the bus turned and braked. I do not know if bus technology has improved and we no longer get tickled when we stand. It is a long time since I travelled by bus.
Once as I was about to climb a bus my friend asked me "What's the time?" I tried to look at my wrist watch, but was too engrossed with the running towards the steps that I did not answer her."No time to see the time." said a young man behind us. My friend and I pretended not to have heard him but smiled secretly at each other. I used this incident in a story I wrote for a school text book.
Now the buses are much better, although the crowds are unbearable. However, my memory of the rickety old buses makes them precious to me.