(Short story)
The bus left Kolhapur at 8.30 p.m. Niranjan
did not face much difficulty in securing a seat for himself near the window. I
was in the seat back to his. I too had selected window side seat to get fresh
air for I hate stuffy weather of a bus or a train. I observed him moving about
unmindful of the passengers and people around. He seemed to be obsessed with
something queer about him. He had wound a black muffler around his head. He
seemed to be a sexagenarian.
There was no considerable rush in the bus. As
it was the rainy season most of the passengers refrained from journey. Usually
busses on this route are found crowded. The atmosphere outside was quite dull.
The conductor was busy in issuing the tickets. As he finished his job he blew
the whistle thrice. The driver decoded the language and turned the lights out
leaving the passengers in darkness. The hazy sodium vapour lamp-posts receded
one by one. The journey of a one and a half hour. The driver took a deviation
from high way into the yard of a dabha. There the conductor who had a
pot-like-belly, announced: “Ten minutes’ time for tea/supper”. Most of the
passengers alighted there to refresh themselves with supper and some with
snacks which were not fresh. But Niranjan did not alight. Here the drivers and
conductors enjoy at the expense of innocent and helpless passengers. The poor
passengers are forced to fill their stomach with stale things at high prices.
These dabhas I call the centres of exploitation and drivers and conductors
behave like the agents. The bus once again began to move with fresh rattling
sound. The feeble clouds driven by the wind poured a little drizzle and
aggravated the foul dullness of the atmosphere.
The bus was cutting through the vast plains
and panting over the curving climbs of the hills here and there. The loaded
lorries that rushed from the opposite direction threw streaks of yellow light,
on the greasy faces of the sleepy passengers. The surrounding plains and hills
were brightened at once in the lightning for a moment and were again wrapped in
darkness.
Some time around 3’o clock the bus entered
the newly constructed, scantily populated central bus station at Hubli. The
driver turned on the lights. Some lonely flies and humming mosquitoes twirled
around them. The motley East spread a dim light. It was here that Niranjan
alighted from the bus, putting his hand kerchief and muffler on the seat as his
deputies to guard it, lest it be occupied by new passengers who got in.
Directly he dashed to the tea house where ordinary brown tea is sold at
“night-rates”. He guzzled it hastily and paid double the “day rates”. He then
turned towards the bus. But as the driver and conductor had already got in and
the latter having blown the whistle, the driver started the bus and the wheels
floundered slowly through the slushy ground. I asked the conductor to stop for
a while as Niranjan had not come back from the tea house. The driver sounded
the horn and he came running and boarded the bus. But sauntering in the gangway
he was confused and unable to recognize his seat.
The seat upon which he had left his deputies
was occupied by two young men, who were fairly well dressed and seemed
educated. They looked as if they had travelled in that seat ham the starting
point itself. Niranjan approached the seat and said “young men get up. It’s my
seat. I travelled from Kolhapur.” One of them rejoined. “What-at? Where is your
seat? I travelled in this seat only.”
“Look at the luggage rack. My briefcase is
exactly over this seat. It is there as I had adjusted. So it is my seat. You
are the impudent intruders. Get you off from my seat” Niranjan reiterated.
At this one of the youngmen was incensed and
tucking up his shirt-sleeves said, “You old idiot shut up. It is my seat. My seat.
If you speak more I will…..”
Though Niranjan told those obstinate youths
that he was not keeping good health and because of dizziness he had vomiting
sensation and therefore he had selected the window seat, they paid a deaf ear
to him. So he called the conductor who too, being somnolent, said, “Are! Why do
you insist on that particular seat only? Go and get seated in any other one, as
there are many half occupied seats” and retired to his rear seat to doze off.
Niranjan then turned to his co-passengers and
asked them to attest the fact that he travelled by sitting in that seat from
the starting point. But nobody opened his mouth and spoke for him. At this
point, sensing the possibility of a skirmish I butted in and addressed the
youth, “Young man I have seen this gentleman travelling in that seat ever since
this bus left Kolhapur. He had just got down here for tea, leaving his belongs
here. It would be ungentlemanly on your part if you try to usurp it now.”
The hooligan became angry at my words and abruptly
ejaculated. “Who are you to advise me? If you are so big-hearted why not you
offer him your seat?”
So I got into a sort of big-hearted
incumbency and welcomed him to sit beside me. But he tried the other seats upon
which the passengers were lying, some in half drowsiness and some snoring as if
lounging on their personal sofas ignoring completely the common understanding
that an S.R.T.C. bus is a public property and the seats in it are meant for
sitting passengers to sit. Some did not even stir while some others refused to
accommodate him. So finally he approached me and I accommodated him.
After adjusting himself comfortably and
collecting the belongings he kept them within his access and sat silently. On
being asked where he was going he said that he was going to Davanagere; where
he had settled down. Formerly he worked for a Private Company in Kolhapur and
retired just a couple of months back. He had been to Kolhapur to settle some
affair there in the Provident Fund Office. He also said that he had settled his
third daughter’s marriage for the next month. Though the doctor had advised him
not to undertake a long journey the familial responsibility and the
circumstances had pushed him into one.
After giving these bits of information about
his personal as well as professional life he was silent for a moment. Then he
talked of the youngmen’s high-handedness and boorish behavior towards an aged
and ailing old man like him, and also the indifference of the passengers even
in the moment defending justice. He wondered whether the stream of protest and
regard for the old and ailing people was getting sunk into the dreary desert of
indifference!
Unmindful of the sleepy passengers, the bus
was slitting through the faint darkness of the morning which clothed cold wind.
It was at this hour that the mishap befell. He belched severely and abruptly.
It seemed he had a retching sensation. He rose immediately in the middle of
conversation from his seat and was about to vomit through the door-window. The
door latch gave a sudden jerk from the hook and the door opened with a bang
throwing him out head long on the road side. The sudden sound alarmed the
driver and soon the bus came to a halt. There was a panic-stricken look on
every face in the bus. He had fallen flat, his lips licking the road-side soil.
His cheeks were cut and there was a ghastly look on his bleeding face. Except
for a few minor bruises on his elbows and knees there were no major wounds. But
he was unconscious. He was immediately carried into the bus and then admitted
into the emergency ward of the “Accident Care” hospital. The doctor said that
it would take some time for him to come back to his senses. On searching his
pocket his address was found along with phone number. I telephoned to his
home. At the other end of the telephone I heard a female voice. Probably it was
his wife’s. I consoled her and gave the address of the hospital where he was
admitted.
Afterwards we all got into the bus and
resumed our journey. Though I reached my place safely my mind was much
disturbed by the harrowing experience during the journey. I wondered as to who
should be held responsible for the mishap. The questions like what is the real
meaning of the word “Right”? Is it simply holding something in possession by
hook or crook?; What is the role of the transport corporation in safeguarding
the journey of a passenger?; How far the faulty maintenance of the vehicles and
their use in transportation are permissible or acceptable? What is the human
predicament in the society where everyone is turning into an involuted selfish
island?; Why the people, especially the youth become so indifferent and callous
towards the ailing old?; Can a society boast of progress which displays an
abhorrent disregard for the old and incurs their wrath and curse?; Questions
like these harass my mind for
sometime.