The one and half hour journey by my company bus to office 25 km away, on the other side of the city is something I enjoy big-time. It is slow-paced for a capital city, but then, I could make up for my lost hours sleeping, enjoy the window-side activity and to top it all, Ramesh, the bus driver gave the best company. Among the routinizers, there was this young lad who dodged off routine to think differently, dwell on his own, and live out from his own muse. Driving was his childhood passion. The son of a bus driver, Ramesh was a B.A graduate yet embraced gladly his father’s profession for it gave him the pleasure he was in quest of, “job satisfaction” what we call. I respected his education, admired his simplicity, lauded his interest and even gave him the liberty of calling me Hema, by name. You may wonder why I care to know so much about a driver. Not because of my nosiness, but, for my first pickup and last drop points.
My routine got a little out of the ordinary with a new girl joining me in my Paying Guest Accommodation. Shreeja was new to my company, new to Bangalore; I accommodated her in my own room. With her, the one and half hour journey now got more interesting. Toting up to the window-side breeze, the romantic slow music, my non-stop gossip with Shreeja excited me. We spoke about our neighboring roommates, about our bossy managers, the canteen food all the way and our night’s talks were mostly on Ramesh. I had so much to praise about Ramesh that even Shreeja started admiring him. He was one - a total diverse kind; patience - rarely found in drivers was abundant in Ramesh. Little late do we get, Ramesh would wait till we reach the stop, hold the bus without a jerk till we settle in our seats, not bothering the blame he may be commended with, by the rest of cabbies from other stops.
Days rolled by. I enjoyed my routine till.........till........ I felt a change in Ramesh; he looked as if he wanted to talk to me. I saw in him an interest to converse with me in private. I wasn’t quite comfortable; I let in some distance to sweep. That night I laid my head on the pillow, first of my dull, no-gossip nights after Shreeja’s entry, with a brimming brain and a hard-beating heart. The two little windows next to me reminded of the windows of my bus. The more I used to enjoy that earlier, the more it became dreading to me today.
I let few days sway by. One night, I confided in Shreeja Ramesh’s behavior or my acuity of his behavior. Shreeja consoled me saying it was my conception and that things were just in place. I gave it some time.
One day Shreeja was at home, sick. After days, I had to face Ramesh alone. It had been long since I extended him a warm smile or even made an eye-contact. Ramesh tried to pick up a conversation. I ignored him in the pretext of skimming thro’ the sides of newspaper. I ignored him for I feared he would talk something, the thing, which I did not want to hear. I cursed myself for having given undue space to a driver which took things toppling. In the evening I got down a stop earlier and walked to my room. I had no peace. The bus journey was no longer pleasurable. I wanted to unfasten, walk up and talk to Ramesh what he was upto, but I wasn’t intrepid. I slept, I woke, I slept and I woke only to see that I was awake even while sleeping. It felt to me that life was taking a toll. It looked as if everything in life had to be argued on, and I puzzled over things again and again with maddening irritation. I saw the tides rising on me and I couldn’t swim across.
Shreeja was the only one I could confide in. She gave me an idea. Going by it, I took an auto rickshaw to office the next day and Shreeja observed Ramesh’s emotional moves. The idea seemed sensible. That day’s bedtime talk was on a serious note, we had a matter to solve. Shreeja had observed Ramesh’s eyes wandering, looking out for me; he did enquire my wellbeing. It was inveterate. He wanted to ask me out, I was sure. Things were getting lucid. I had a record of being proposed by people of varied colors- from my teacher to manager, from a poking neighbor to a friend, from the paragliding pilot to bus driver (?). And never was I a person who could accept one!
We did the conflicting next day. Shreeja dropped out and I went alone in the cab. Evening dawned upon, the bus neared my stop; Cab was empty but for me and Ramesh. I gathered my entire goad, sat upright and waited for Ramesh to come up to talk to me. I could not take it any longer. I wanted to know what was on his mind and seal the episode forever, even if it meant I had to look for an alternate mode to commute to the 25 km distant office. Not to disappoint me, Ramesh strode up to me and handed me a letter saying “Hema, I know you wouldn’t appreciate it, but I did not want to leave the stone unturned”. Getting down, I ran to the room, fastest ever in my life. Wish I had done this in the marathon and secured myself a place. Shreeja waited impatiently. I had no nerve to open the letter. Shreeja dared…
Dear Hema,
I know you wouldn’t quite approve of my behavior. You regarded me as a friend, gave me the space my profession doesn’t demand. I thought twice, I wasn’t convinced myself; I wanted to open it up with you. From the day you started coming in my cab, I found a friend in you. But the day your friend entered my cab, I found my love in her. Please help me.
Regards,
Ramesh
PS: The story is highly hypothetical though the characters hold close resemblance to real life.
