"But I have to go.." Well, I had my bags packed, would seem quite a waste, all that effort.
"You can take the Mangalore bus madam and shuffle there. Its just 60 kms or so" the man sold.
Mangalore now? Now where is that? All logic says somewhere near Bangalore. If nothing else, I can always take a flight to Mumbai from Bangalore.
"When is the bus due?"
"In about 5 minutes.." he said.
True to the clerk's word, a volvo pulled up in exactly five minutes. As I watched the monster of a vehicle approach, I saw all the pieces falling right in, like some scripted movie. This had to be a movie!
Still skeptical about the wisdom of a unplanned trip, I watched the door open. "Mangalore?" the driver shouted. "Yes, Mangalore" I replied. I faintly remember the Alto ad flashing across my mind. Let's go.
"That will be Rs.830" he handed out a receipt. Buses, who said they were inexpensive. The bus was fairly empty. Most of the seats were vacant and very clean. Nominally, I scanned the entourage and settled in an aisle seat, though the next one was empty. Well, I am an aisle person, what can I say.
Cozying in, I watched the roads pull away. Let me tell you something at this point, in my six month residence in this city, I have not really picked up much of its language. So the couple in the seat behind me had nothing really to worry about as they made hushed noises at my choice of wardrobe for the journey.
Buses are fun places. I remember being taken to many a picnic and us singing songs which were not quite waranted under adult supervision. Well, it was a picnic afterall, so not many really minded. I did not travel much in buses after leaving school. But I always maintained, buses are fun places. This one had a TV too.
The telly was switched on soon and everyone was engrossed. Everyone, but a certain miss. Well, me.. silly! I did not understand half of the words being spoken, so I just mustered out a meek smile everytime someone laughed. Soon enough I got bored, and anyone who knows me knows that it is a disease with me. So, I start staring at people through the window panes.
Suddenly, I notice a real cute guy sitting on the other side of the aisle. He was looking out of the window, not much interested in the movie either. May be, he had already seen it. May be, like me, he too does not understand the language. May be, he is sad. May be, he is bored. May be.
I wanted to go over and ask if he was. Well, he was cute afterall and I had nothing much really to do. But my Lonely Indian girl Traveller Handbook said otherwise. Oh, I hate handbooks, they take too much space. In the head.
Oohh.. he is turning, quick.. grab the laptop and pretend you are working. Better, get typing on your blog.
Ten minutes of acting later, worthy of atleast a Golden Globe, may I add, I look off the laptop and casually browse the scene. Wait.. He's not there!!!!
(of course.. to be continued..)