I am negotiating my way through the slippery rail tracks when a more talented member of the bovine family accomplishes this task with greater speed and definitely more grace than (sigh) I. Why am I competing with a goat? No, you got me all wrong. No, I have nothing to do with either cows or goats. I have no inferiority complex when I compare myself with them. I'm merely trying to reach the bus stop that�s on the other side of these fatal tracks.
I'm also trying to ask Sheetal and Mallika the precise value of the saturation point of the titration that we performed in the Lab today. May be then, I'll figure out why I didn�t arrive at the accurate decimal that my ferocious teacher required. (Right you are - I did get into trouble with him - thankfully, the bell rescued me). But then, they are busy concentrating on the swinging long ponytail of the tall guy strolling in right in front of us. Hey, now I'm getting an inferiority complex.
We reached the deserted bus stop, talking in loud voices about how the strike at college could have been averted if out Captain had not been suspended. There is, however, one point of agreement - that we are relieved at this unexpected blessing of a well-deserved holiday. Sheetal and Mallika leave as soon as their bus arrives and I am left alone. I keep waiting, looking around, bored and miserable, for my bus to arrive. No sign of any bus in this cloudy afternoon. By now I can recite all the posters and signboards and hoardings backwards and forwards without looking. Uh oh ! Realization suddenly dawns on me this afternoon when I see my bespectacled neighbour on the other side of the road. Actually, I'm supposed to be standing there for the bus, not here! Gratefully and foolishly, I cross the road and park myself near uncle.
Soon a smart old red majestic bas draws in and I gleefully board on it. Well, the doorkeeper has done me a favour - he has neatly and carefully latched my dupatta with the door and my mobility comes to a standstill. Seconds later, I grin and thank him as he hands me the end of the cloth, now stamped with a shapeless hole. Almost simultaneously, the bus starts and I promptly fall on the shoulders of a young woman. I try to look at her and express my regret, however, her expression is too forbidding!
After two stops, I get a seat and I'm so utterly joyous at the luxury of lowering myself into a more balanced and comfortable status. It is certainly steadier than the shaky ninety-degree angle position I've been having for the last hour and a half. Unfortunately, this extravagance does not last long. My conscience orders me to rise to the occasion and offer my seat to a lady ho has got in with her six-month-old bawling baby. Uh oh again! Well, the lady behind her seems to have seized the opportunity and she greedily occupies my seat. The lady with the kid goes to the seat behind and places herself there, and I'm back to my precarious position.
Finally, my bus stop arrives. Blobs of rain start falling. I know it is difficult to find transport home. Meanwhile, I see that uncle has somehow managed to find an autorickshaw and we get in. he has now convinced me that it is essential to pay him a visit. I am totally defenseless and submit myself. The vehicle stops in front of uncle's house emitting blue spurts of smoke into the rain and the engine slows down painfully. I cleverly manouvre myself out of the auto in a peculiar crouching position. I also succeed in opening my prized umbrella. I know auntie is thrilled to see me 'cos I nearly choke in hug she gives me. By the time I find me a comfortable chair, she has launched into a narration of missing servant, aching back and disobedient children. I nod appropriately throughout, trying to focus instead on the hot coffee and potato chips that are in front of me. Also, I notice that her 'crunchies' are much tastier than those my mother makes. I desperately wish that I was home enjoying my holiday instead of facing the risk of being appointed her son's science teacher. Then I remember my remote control and I'm unable to bear the sorrow any longer. I decide to save myself from further verbal torture and I gradually rise up and tell her that I have to go to the dentist. She kindly inquires about my orthodontic ailment and I cook up a long tale about a filled tooth, wisdom tooth and injections. She is now thoroughly convinced - huh - sometimes I amaze myself!
I walk back to reach a locked house. Lucky me - the key is with auntie�I rush to place, grab the key, thank her suitably and rush off before any more words can be exchanged. Am I glad to be free! To be honest, I feel mean inside. She is a good cook, isn't she? Besides, I could have even had lunch at her place, now that there is no one in the house. I take a rupee out of my purse ready to donate it to the next needy soul and clear my conscience. I look around for a potential candidate. This task also done, I wearily plod back home.
Once inside, I am happily watching my favourite count down show, munching wafers and chips. Minutes later, I shake out of a dreamless nap that I have fallen into. That is the noise of an unfortunate vessel bouncing on the floor. Half a second later, there is utter pandemonium - my family's back. Sorry, a whole battalion of relatives is back, now unravelling proofs of extensive shopping. There's a really good set. I mentally strut around in it for a while before actually examining it. Stop! My cousin screams. Uh oh -it's for her birthday. Sigh! Sigh! Woe me! Some people aren't lucky, I guess. Its okay, I console myself. The next minute, I am in my precious red sofa coiled up cozily, my hands propping up my chin, munching the rest of the wafers. I happily forget my troubles and my little act of generosity. I am in a nonsense world of slapstick comedy and alternately, scenes of reunion of twin brothers after seven years, and of course, rows of women with flower baskets sailing gracefully amid beautiful shrubs in splendid gardens. Peace at last!!