it was an usual morning. over crowded airoli-borivali bus number 123. smell of ocean's rotten water mixed with smell of sweat of people occupying the minimum space required for their shapes. bus conductor very comfortably making space for himself in between nearly impossible gaps. all these were so incredible yet so ordinary in a person's life who is a regular commuter of BEST buses in the city of Mumbai.
headphones stuck almost touching my eardrums, D K Bose song playing in loop to the maximum capacity in cellphone, i was on my way to the office. every now and then throwing a glance on my cheapest fast-track watch, not to see the time but to think of a new excuse to give on the question 'why are you late today? again!' i myself was pissed on the same old truth of traffic conditions, day by day worsening to the limits.
lady beside me stood up and three of them standing on the aisle blocked the way not to stop her but to occupy the seat. somehow she walked out and disappeared in the crowd, i was forced to slide towards the window so that people struggling to find the seat could sit, at least one of them.
seat was not empty, there was a book. title 'what the hell'. i myself was a reader but never had heard of this book, well no one could possibly know all the books, specially if they are published to compete with the growth of mushrooms. i picked it up and unplugged my earphones to concentrate more on the book.
first page:
it was handwritten. 'To the only person who is the inspiration behind this book, its not a book, its our story'
quite clear the book was a gift from the author himself. There was a line, again hand written in a different handwriting.
'leaving this in a crowded bus, no one will ever know that the book was written on me, for me. I am sorry'
i realized that the lady was in fact not reading but writing on the first page of the book. bus was already moving, she was already gone. last stop which crossed was kandivali. i was still there, holding the book in my hand, wondering what might be the story behind it...!!
headphones stuck almost touching my eardrums, D K Bose song playing in loop to the maximum capacity in cellphone, i was on my way to the office. every now and then throwing a glance on my cheapest fast-track watch, not to see the time but to think of a new excuse to give on the question 'why are you late today? again!' i myself was pissed on the same old truth of traffic conditions, day by day worsening to the limits.
lady beside me stood up and three of them standing on the aisle blocked the way not to stop her but to occupy the seat. somehow she walked out and disappeared in the crowd, i was forced to slide towards the window so that people struggling to find the seat could sit, at least one of them.seat was not empty, there was a book. title 'what the hell'. i myself was a reader but never had heard of this book, well no one could possibly know all the books, specially if they are published to compete with the growth of mushrooms. i picked it up and unplugged my earphones to concentrate more on the book.
first page:
it was handwritten. 'To the only person who is the inspiration behind this book, its not a book, its our story'
quite clear the book was a gift from the author himself. There was a line, again hand written in a different handwriting.
'leaving this in a crowded bus, no one will ever know that the book was written on me, for me. I am sorry'
i realized that the lady was in fact not reading but writing on the first page of the book. bus was already moving, she was already gone. last stop which crossed was kandivali. i was still there, holding the book in my hand, wondering what might be the story behind it...!!
Please write ahead if its a fiction and your creation...if not i really want to know what was the reason behind leaving a book in bus.i would never do that if someone writes a book on me.wish i could talk to her and know the reason behind.
ReplyDeleteWell..its a fiction so... :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for a read...
I wonder if its fiction :p i hv travelled often though in 123 to go to airoli and i have a book, what the hell! ;)
ReplyDeleteany resemblance to reality is purely coincidence :)
Delete