Conga drum softly thumps into six beats along with musical chimes, ♫♫…And in your eyes, I see ribbons of color, I see us inside….. ♫...I am Falling into you ….♫. . Effusive voice Celine Dion croons through my Earphone into my ear. I looked at my watch, it was 12.45 pm. I lay on my back, resting my head on my backpack, looking out at the cloudy night sky my void mind and eye wandered out. From the angular window of my sleeper coach I could see gray patch of land and tree speed past me. It must be music or the opaque sky, a sense of contentment and relief was setting on me, bizarre feeling for gluttonous being likes me. Well, Bus cradles me into the night; I slipped into a sweet slumber.
Bus suddenly screeched and halted, jolted by the noise I woke up. Lights were on inside, the bus conductor was yelling loud. I was wondering what he was hollering about. Just then he walked up to me and said get down this is “Ujire”! Before he could say anything else, in haste I slipped on my sneaker, took my backpack and got off from the bus. Half asleep, I tried and open my eyes to see where I was. I was standing in pitch dark, in the middle of nowhere. This is it! It was not a dream. Sweet slumber just crumbled into a nightmare. I didn’t know where I was. Before I could realize where I was, there was not even a sign of smoke trail, which the bus left. Bus had dropped me off and long gone.
That moment, all strength I had drained out in a swig. I felt empty and hallow. Mouth so dry, I forgot to speak, wanted to shout for help! I did panic for a moment. I looked at my watch it was 5.20 am. Took a deep breath, regained my composure. From distance I could hear the auto rickshaw rattle. Turned my head in the direction of the noise, I could see bleak light at a distance. I walked about 100 yards towards the light. My 60 second nightmare came to an end. I was now in middle of the circle in this small town. Familiar sight I should say, sigh of relief. I was in the right place but little earlier than usual. Indeed, my journey had met its end.
Had small family obligation to complete that day, I had to return to the city the same day. I finished my task by 9.00 am that morning. I didn’t have any return booking done. This is was not my first visit to the town, I was aware; I could hop on to Rajahamsa bus which usually scheduled to ply every hour back to the City from this town. I went to Town Bus stand, overheard the bystander say that we would find Rajahamsa buses any time of the day. I was glad to hear that since I didn’t have a booking. For a 7 hrs journey, Rajahamsa buses were the only apt and ideal transport back to the city. I walked up to the TC and enquired about the bus. He said that the next Rajahamsa is scheduled to leave at 12.30 pm. Little Jinxed probably my day was I guess, had dreamt of hassle-free journey.
I had no intentions of wasting 3hrs of my invaluable time in a scanty populated bus station. I had to return to the city the same day. I had no choice, but to board the regular transport service otherwise known as the Karnataka Sarige, when comfort counts, this transport service is the least anybody could expect to bet on for 6 – 7 hrs bus journey. These local transports are very unlike the Rajahamsa bus. I dragged myself aboard the bus; it was empty not even a sight of ghost. Should I say I got lucky or unlucky? I did curse myself for not being able to set right unplanned short trip. Turned around to get off from the bus just then I saw this lady behind me, I was little startled. She smiled and said…Bengulara? I just nodded my head in affirmation.
She said the bus will leave in next 10 mins. I did wonder how she knew. Well, without any hesitation, I comfortably seated my self in the front row on a three seater. She got down from the bus, walked to this man who stood chewing tobacco and leaning on pillar nearby. She spoke something to that man animatedly. The next thing, I saw the man walking toward the bus, he climbed on to the driver seat. He was the bus driver. Who was she? I watched her as she paced around the bus stand platform for a while. She was holding a khaki coat. She put it on, there is sling on her shoulder, sling was attached to small device, which looked like card swiping machine (These small machines are omnipresent nowadays!). She kept on shouting Bengulur…Bengulur.., Belur...Hassana...Bengulur. That’s when I realized she was the Bus Conductor.
I was pleasantly surprised, I had only known of Lady Bus conductors working within the city limits. Watched her work, skillful fragile hands which once must have held the cutlery in the kitchen, now seamlessly clings on the structured iron rods in the bus. Bus is flagged off; there are half dozen passengers besides me in the bus. Bus kept moving, delicately she pulled tin plank, on which was painted the name of the destination we all boarded the bus and on the backside it read “ Hassan – Bangalore“ she turned the plank around and placed it back in its place. Meanwhile, bus took a bad turn; I almost slid sideways from my seat. Looks like she was well aware of this turn she held onto the iron rods, her grip was tight. I could see her strained knuckles and bloated blue green veins on her hand.
Bus is now on a smooth road, she walks up to me, stern face looks at me and tells me Noora Yeapathnaku Rupaiye, ondh seatu. (Rs.174, one seat). I handed out 500 Rupee bill. She asks me chillre illva? (Don’t you have change). I nodded my head gesturing No”. She diligently pokes key on the sling device in her hand; the machine spits out a bill, that’s the ticket. Before she handed the ticket, she scribbles the amount to be returned to me on the backside of the ticket. Bus kept on rattling may be because of bad roads; with great dexterity she maneuvers herself inside the bus. She kept walking until she reached the next passenger to issue the ticket. I was thrilled to watch her work, how brilliantly she executed her task.
Until very recently world around us strongly believed that women could only do certain “Type of work”. For years now women around the world are typecast, based on the nature of work they are supposed do. The work that this lady conductor did was male dominated for the past few years in Karnataka at least. It is very welcoming thought, KSRTC has decided to enroll women also on jobs which once were done only by men. Years of struggle women in India put up with, fighting for equality and women’s rights, now seems to have bearing fruit. Well, I did chat with Vidya, who was the conductor in my bus. I also came to know that there is a fleet of 30 more women who work with KSRTC as bus conductors. Feminist likes me should definitely applaud on KSRTC’s contribution to progressive feminism in India. Out of curiosity I had posed a lot of questions to her. She was very accommodative and patiently answered all my questions. She asked me, if I were a journalist, I was flattered. Journey which looked like hell some hours back was now turning to be one of the most cherished experiences to bookmark on my blog. I reached Bangalore, as I set my foot off the bus; Absolute bliss on my face (very unlike in a 6 hour long journey in an ordinary bus). For once I took pride traveling in KSRTC which was conducted by a WOMAN.
Bus suddenly screeched and halted, jolted by the noise I woke up. Lights were on inside, the bus conductor was yelling loud. I was wondering what he was hollering about. Just then he walked up to me and said get down this is “Ujire”! Before he could say anything else, in haste I slipped on my sneaker, took my backpack and got off from the bus. Half asleep, I tried and open my eyes to see where I was. I was standing in pitch dark, in the middle of nowhere. This is it! It was not a dream. Sweet slumber just crumbled into a nightmare. I didn’t know where I was. Before I could realize where I was, there was not even a sign of smoke trail, which the bus left. Bus had dropped me off and long gone.
That moment, all strength I had drained out in a swig. I felt empty and hallow. Mouth so dry, I forgot to speak, wanted to shout for help! I did panic for a moment. I looked at my watch it was 5.20 am. Took a deep breath, regained my composure. From distance I could hear the auto rickshaw rattle. Turned my head in the direction of the noise, I could see bleak light at a distance. I walked about 100 yards towards the light. My 60 second nightmare came to an end. I was now in middle of the circle in this small town. Familiar sight I should say, sigh of relief. I was in the right place but little earlier than usual. Indeed, my journey had met its end.
Had small family obligation to complete that day, I had to return to the city the same day. I finished my task by 9.00 am that morning. I didn’t have any return booking done. This is was not my first visit to the town, I was aware; I could hop on to Rajahamsa bus which usually scheduled to ply every hour back to the City from this town. I went to Town Bus stand, overheard the bystander say that we would find Rajahamsa buses any time of the day. I was glad to hear that since I didn’t have a booking. For a 7 hrs journey, Rajahamsa buses were the only apt and ideal transport back to the city. I walked up to the TC and enquired about the bus. He said that the next Rajahamsa is scheduled to leave at 12.30 pm. Little Jinxed probably my day was I guess, had dreamt of hassle-free journey.
I had no intentions of wasting 3hrs of my invaluable time in a scanty populated bus station. I had to return to the city the same day. I had no choice, but to board the regular transport service otherwise known as the Karnataka Sarige, when comfort counts, this transport service is the least anybody could expect to bet on for 6 – 7 hrs bus journey. These local transports are very unlike the Rajahamsa bus. I dragged myself aboard the bus; it was empty not even a sight of ghost. Should I say I got lucky or unlucky? I did curse myself for not being able to set right unplanned short trip. Turned around to get off from the bus just then I saw this lady behind me, I was little startled. She smiled and said…Bengulara? I just nodded my head in affirmation.
She said the bus will leave in next 10 mins. I did wonder how she knew. Well, without any hesitation, I comfortably seated my self in the front row on a three seater. She got down from the bus, walked to this man who stood chewing tobacco and leaning on pillar nearby. She spoke something to that man animatedly. The next thing, I saw the man walking toward the bus, he climbed on to the driver seat. He was the bus driver. Who was she? I watched her as she paced around the bus stand platform for a while. She was holding a khaki coat. She put it on, there is sling on her shoulder, sling was attached to small device, which looked like card swiping machine (These small machines are omnipresent nowadays!). She kept on shouting Bengulur…Bengulur.., Belur...Hassana...Bengulur. That’s when I realized she was the Bus Conductor.
I was pleasantly surprised, I had only known of Lady Bus conductors working within the city limits. Watched her work, skillful fragile hands which once must have held the cutlery in the kitchen, now seamlessly clings on the structured iron rods in the bus. Bus is flagged off; there are half dozen passengers besides me in the bus. Bus kept moving, delicately she pulled tin plank, on which was painted the name of the destination we all boarded the bus and on the backside it read “ Hassan – Bangalore“ she turned the plank around and placed it back in its place. Meanwhile, bus took a bad turn; I almost slid sideways from my seat. Looks like she was well aware of this turn she held onto the iron rods, her grip was tight. I could see her strained knuckles and bloated blue green veins on her hand.
Bus is now on a smooth road, she walks up to me, stern face looks at me and tells me Noora Yeapathnaku Rupaiye, ondh seatu. (Rs.174, one seat). I handed out 500 Rupee bill. She asks me chillre illva? (Don’t you have change). I nodded my head gesturing No”. She diligently pokes key on the sling device in her hand; the machine spits out a bill, that’s the ticket. Before she handed the ticket, she scribbles the amount to be returned to me on the backside of the ticket. Bus kept on rattling may be because of bad roads; with great dexterity she maneuvers herself inside the bus. She kept walking until she reached the next passenger to issue the ticket. I was thrilled to watch her work, how brilliantly she executed her task.
Until very recently world around us strongly believed that women could only do certain “Type of work”. For years now women around the world are typecast, based on the nature of work they are supposed do. The work that this lady conductor did was male dominated for the past few years in Karnataka at least. It is very welcoming thought, KSRTC has decided to enroll women also on jobs which once were done only by men. Years of struggle women in India put up with, fighting for equality and women’s rights, now seems to have bearing fruit. Well, I did chat with Vidya, who was the conductor in my bus. I also came to know that there is a fleet of 30 more women who work with KSRTC as bus conductors. Feminist likes me should definitely applaud on KSRTC’s contribution to progressive feminism in India. Out of curiosity I had posed a lot of questions to her. She was very accommodative and patiently answered all my questions. She asked me, if I were a journalist, I was flattered. Journey which looked like hell some hours back was now turning to be one of the most cherished experiences to bookmark on my blog. I reached Bangalore, as I set my foot off the bus; Absolute bliss on my face (very unlike in a 6 hour long journey in an ordinary bus). For once I took pride traveling in KSRTC which was conducted by a WOMAN.
