Last month, I had a dream.For a long time, I hadn't had any dreams.Even before my latest dream, my dreams were few and far between.That night it happened....
I was in my home state, Kerala,India.I was travelling by a Kerala Road Transport Corporation(KSRTC) bus.I don't know when and where my journey had started.I fell asleep during the journey.I woke up at the KSRTC bus station at Kottayam, which was the destination of the bus.There was a big hustle and bustle in the bus,as impatient, exhausted passengers started rushing to the door.Aspiring passengers for the return journey had already amassed outside.I was not in a hurry to get out,and remained seated.Suddenly, I realised that my diary, which I had placed in my laps during the journey,was missing.Probably it had fallen under the seat, but it wasn't there.It contained some vital personal information such as phone numbers, bank account numbers, important dates, passwords and so on.I frantically searched under my seat, but to no avail.
Most KSRTC buses are very old and clumsy,with little or no space to move,even under normal circumstances.By bending down,I became a stumbling block to the passengers,who frowned on me with utter disgust.They forcibly rushed past me,ignoring my excuses and apologies.Due to the immense physical pressure exerted on me by the irate passengers,I gave up my search,and disembarked from the bus,with an aching body and haggard looks.
I waited there,confounded.The new passengers rushed into the bus,frantically jostling to occuppy vacant seats.In a few moments,the bus was full,and those without seats were standing,pressing each other tightly like sardines in a can.
Suddenly,I realised that I had gained some magical powers from nowhere.I was able to see the inside of the bus,through its body,like seeing things through an Xray scanner.I was greatly overjoyed to see my diary lying under seat number 13.I entered the bus,squeezing through,despite protests from standing passengers.I pushed and pushed,and fought like a rugby player in a scrum to reach seat number 13.I retrieved the diary,and jubilantly shouted,"I have found my diary."The passengers responded with angry looks and suppressed curses.
With much difficulty,I got out of the bus,and examined my diary.Strangely enough,there were three diaries in all.All diaries had my name on the cover.I was astonished to see my photo affixed in the first page of the original diary.I had never done that.Anyway,it was a solid proof of ownership.I showed the photo to everyone around me,who were looking for buses.Nobody had questioned my ownership of the diary.They were least interested in me because they were already late for their destinations.They had their own problems to worry about.
A workingclass woman, who was happily seated in a sideseat of the bus,asked me,
"Is your claim number written in the diary?"
I was at a loss what to say.Perhaps she was referring to the Kerala Government's Bumper Lottery Ticket number.
The bus began to move, with a grumble,with a burst of black smoke gushing from the rear.
I was in my home state, Kerala,India.I was travelling by a Kerala Road Transport Corporation(KSRTC) bus.I don't know when and where my journey had started.I fell asleep during the journey.I woke up at the KSRTC bus station at Kottayam, which was the destination of the bus.There was a big hustle and bustle in the bus,as impatient, exhausted passengers started rushing to the door.Aspiring passengers for the return journey had already amassed outside.I was not in a hurry to get out,and remained seated.Suddenly, I realised that my diary, which I had placed in my laps during the journey,was missing.Probably it had fallen under the seat, but it wasn't there.It contained some vital personal information such as phone numbers, bank account numbers, important dates, passwords and so on.I frantically searched under my seat, but to no avail.
Most KSRTC buses are very old and clumsy,with little or no space to move,even under normal circumstances.By bending down,I became a stumbling block to the passengers,who frowned on me with utter disgust.They forcibly rushed past me,ignoring my excuses and apologies.Due to the immense physical pressure exerted on me by the irate passengers,I gave up my search,and disembarked from the bus,with an aching body and haggard looks.
I waited there,confounded.The new passengers rushed into the bus,frantically jostling to occuppy vacant seats.In a few moments,the bus was full,and those without seats were standing,pressing each other tightly like sardines in a can.
Suddenly,I realised that I had gained some magical powers from nowhere.I was able to see the inside of the bus,through its body,like seeing things through an Xray scanner.I was greatly overjoyed to see my diary lying under seat number 13.I entered the bus,squeezing through,despite protests from standing passengers.I pushed and pushed,and fought like a rugby player in a scrum to reach seat number 13.I retrieved the diary,and jubilantly shouted,"I have found my diary."The passengers responded with angry looks and suppressed curses.
With much difficulty,I got out of the bus,and examined my diary.Strangely enough,there were three diaries in all.All diaries had my name on the cover.I was astonished to see my photo affixed in the first page of the original diary.I had never done that.Anyway,it was a solid proof of ownership.I showed the photo to everyone around me,who were looking for buses.Nobody had questioned my ownership of the diary.They were least interested in me because they were already late for their destinations.They had their own problems to worry about.
A workingclass woman, who was happily seated in a sideseat of the bus,asked me,
"Is your claim number written in the diary?"
I was at a loss what to say.Perhaps she was referring to the Kerala Government's Bumper Lottery Ticket number.
The bus began to move, with a grumble,with a burst of black smoke gushing from the rear.
Flow of words musical..Nice dream and narration :)
ReplyDeletethanks for feedback.I'm quite new in this
ReplyDelete