MTC adventures - II

Since I couldn't think of anything to blog about, I am forced to dip into the archives of my city bus experiences. And trust me those archives are really vast and their contents never ending, just like the mythical Amudha Surabi.

A couple of years ago (meaning I can't remember exactly when), while travelling back home from college in the evening, I miraculously managed to get a seat in the bus (and a window seat at that). Now the probability of getting a seat in a crowded city bus during rush hour, is such that Mike Tyson has a better chance of becoming US president. Come to think of it, if Tyson ran against Bush, the 3 presidential debates that would follow would certainly beat any form of entertainment that the cartoon network can offer. The combined IQ of the 2 contestants would match the batting average of Venkatesh Prasad.

Anyway, returning to the incident, after settling down in the window seat I proceeded to do what every tired man does when he manages to finds a seat, succumb to the pleasures of sleep. A few minutes after entering dreamworld I was jerked back into consciousness by the old man seated next to me. He wanted to know if the Mylapore temple stop was far off or close by. "About 15 minutes from here", I snapped and tried to return to the cozy dreamworld, where I was in the midst of rescuing a beautiful damsel from the jaws of a tiger in typical MGR style before this old guy had to ruin it all.

Apparently he was not done with his interruptions either. "Please thambi. I am new to this city. I don't know exactly where the Mylapore temple is. Can you please alert me the moment the bus reaches the temple?", he requested with imploring eyes. My innately courteous nature which has been my eternal weakness, won over and I acquiesced. Beautiful damsels can wait, but an old man new to this city should not begin his first visit by missing his stop. "Don't worry, sir. I'll tell you when the temple arrives", I promised him. But I was miffed a bit when he proceeded to doze off peacefully, while I had to fight a raging battle against my eyelids which had suddenly aquired magnetic properties. Never mind, I tell myself, it's only 15 minutes or so and then I can return to fantasyland where I can proceed to live happily ever after with the lass.

But as luck would have it the bus was caught in heavy traffic and the 15 minutes turned into 35 minutes. All this time I had to hold my eyelids apart with my fingers to enable me to keep my word, while the old man was in his own dreamland where I assumed he would be rescuing an old woman from the clutches of a chicken. Finally the glorious Mylapore temple gopuram loomed ahead. I gave the old man's shoulder a gentle shake and when that did not produce any result, followed it up with a vigorous shake and managed to snap him back to reality.

Me: "Sir, your stop has arrived."
Old man (a bit disoriented): "Uh?...what?"
Me: "Mylapore temple, sir. It has arrived."
Old man: "Mylapore temple has arrived? "
Me: "Yes, sir."
Old man: "Thank you very much."

He then peeked out over my shoulder, looked at the gopuram, joined his palms above his head and crooned "Om Namachivaaya!" twice and then promptly went back to sleep. If it was not for IPC section 302, I would have clubbed him to death then and there. But then I had to be content with inwardly cursing him with all the expletives my vocabulary would allow.

With nothing else to do I went back to dreamworld and tried hard to recall the beautiful dame. But the only picture that kept appearing repeatedly was that of an old man requesting with beseeching eyes, "Thambi, can you tell me when the Mylapore temple arrives?".....Aaaaargh!