always fun

A bus ride is not always fun

By Tit Ilia Dugulele

IT could be fun having bus rides on not a very busy day, but on the other hand bus rides on a busy day are exhausting and tiresome; in some cases it’s dangerous, can be killing and, oh! hellish.

On a Saturday, obviously the busiest day of the week, it is quite difficult to try to get a place on a bus. One has to wait in vain at the bus stop for hours to get a vacant place on the bus. At times you are nearly bumped by a vehicle in order to stop a bus, but the driver just ignores you as if you’re a nasty smell ing animal. If you are lucky enough to get the bus, the other passengers will embark first and when the time comes for you, the driver shouts, “No more space please!” That is the last straw. You have to draw back with reluctance and wait patiently for another bus.

The next driver may be generous enough to allow you in but under such conditions you shall have to stand. A complete hour of waiting and the driver warns you in advance that you shall have to remain stand ing. You are forced to accept even this, since you have to reach your destination.

On the bus which is crammed up to the head, you stand there like a statue looking appealingly at some one for a seat, but no one seems interested in you. This makes you

feel like a loathsome creature, who is being ignored because it bears a devilish image.

The bus speeds along, swerving around the bends at breakneck speed and yet all the time unaware of your uneasiness in your standing position.

At times when the bus suddenly turns around a bend you are put off balance and fall down. The other passengers are laughing at you.

Probably because they feel very superior being comfortable in their seats. You try to get up feeling embarrassed but the driver does not bother, or share your feelings. His eyes are glued to the road ahead and he may be either chewing gum or smoking a cigarette, looking for a chance to overtake a vehicle. When he overtakes another vehicle, it seems that there might be a collision and your heart jumps to your mouth but the driver knows his job all right.

THE bus is full of people of dif ferent races all talking and together as one. The atmosphere in the bus bears the mixed aroma of stinking vegetables, crabs, fishes and shells along with the smell of different cosmetics that the passengers apply. Among all this, you are stand ing there and have to stand all these and the stink of human sweat which I assure you is not at all sweet.

The driver has to stop the bus

frequently to let passengers out. The passenger gets up languidly and makes his way past the passengers standing in the aisle. In his attempt to wriggle past you like a snake, he treads on your feet without bothering to apologise, for he is just worried about getting out. At the exit he will take his time to disentangle his lug gage from the crabs, vegetables and what not. After ages he will at last leave the bus. All this time you will be standing, or if lucky, sitting in a tight comer waiting patiently to reach your destination.

At times you may get a seat be tween two fat passengers and when the bus turns around a bend, the fatties squeeze you and you can’t utter a word in resistance. You can only sit tight and wait in vain to reach your destination.

At last you pull the cord and get out at your intended place.

“Don’t you feel happy that you are getting rid of all this?” This is no question because you cannot be happy as you are exhausted and the smell in the bus lingers about you.

You want to inhale some fresh air but there, sitting next to you is a smoker puffing and coughing out a cloud of smoke.

Yes! You know you can’t stand it any longer but you can’t escape it either.

What can otherwise be an enjoy able ride becomes a hell of a ride on such days.