On a Bus Trail in the rural heartland of Tiruvallur

The board on the creaking red coloured vintage bus which almost blocked the driver’s view of the road ahead announced its incredible arrival into the taluk bus stand from a godforsaken village on the other side of the state border in AP.  Phew….the name, “Placepalayam” (that’s how the British rechristened the village for reasons best known to them!) made one wonder whether the driver was on a desperate trip to get into the Guinness Book of World Records. The “place” was surely about 50 kms from where I had planned to board the bus that had another 35 kms to cover to reach the intended destination.

The vehicle bending sideways holding itself precariously to the poor wheels on its left with the right wheels hardly having any work to do, made a screeching halt as the driver pulled up. Boys holding on to the metal pipes above the door opening (there was no sign of the door though) and the men threatening to pull the bus down on its side dropped on to the ground after letting go their hold on the vehicle. Pandemonium broke loose as women, children and men attempted to disembark against a large gathering trying to force their way into the bus. Shouts, screams, angry epithets flowed freely in the air for some time until some of them found a solution. Passengers near the windows began to exchange babies and children and baggage from across the window while the competition ran unabated at the door openings. The melee at the opening was also soon sorted out when a short plump lady hurled herself out of the bus, bringing with her a wave of half-nickered lilliputs and a few more plump specimens of her own tribe. Now there seemed to be a huge hollow in the vehicle which was instantly filled up by the boarders of all hues and shapes.

I managed to get through the front opening and stayed put near the gear box. After a plethora of calls, shouts, confirmations, ousters and then the final whistle from the harassed conductor, the driver put on the gear and pressed the accelerator as it was raring to go. The bus was packed with people like sardines, three sitting in seats meant for two, some of them on seat railings with their legs spread to the next railing across other torsos seated below. Those who couldn’t get a foothold did not regret putting all their weight upon those who did. And those who did had little option as this was a small price they had to pay for ‘standing on their own feet’. The unstated rule mandated every passenger either to carry another or be carried by another. Even the poor driver wasn’t spared. A boy of seven sat on his shoulders dangling his legs down attempting to assist his carrier by lending two ‘helping legs’ to steer the vehicle! As for the conductor, about a dozen people closed in upon him with a protection ring that even a 'Z' category wouldn't want. He occasionally thrust his hand out of the melee to ask for money in exchange for bits of paper that entitled one to disembark anywhere up to the destination!

The bus pulled itself, spraining its neck to the left, setting off a cloud of dust as the driver shifted the gear further. A cool breeze from across the paddy fields blew in through some escapable gaps in the windows and provided some relief to the commuters. The bus meandered its way through the fields and across a rivulet until it came to a halt near a teashop with a couple of lungi-clad youth idling on a slender bench. “ERNANKUPPAM”, announced the conductor making full use of his larynx not before blowing the whistle to silence the crowd! A craggy old woman with a basket of millet got down from the front, grumbling about the 50p change that she was denied by the “whistleblower”. A farm worker with a long sickle in hand boarded the bus sending shivers across those who noticed his weapon. Shouts and counter-shouts followed until it was resolved that the sickle was to be kept in the custody of the driver below the steering!

The vehicle resumed its incredible journey across a clear road and picked up speed to cruise at about 40 kmph! The driver now seemed destined to make up for the time lost until then and steered the vehicle confidently avoiding oncoming tractors and cyclists with a deft hand. And then all of a sudden the driver applied the brakes, raising an alarm of sorts across the entire bus. A flock of geese suddenly appeared from nowhere and trotted their way across the road, holding all their heads high with the 'god-given' right of passage. A boy of eleven, tending the flock walked across coolly, ignoring the bus. 

The scene inside the bus was a comic sight to behold. The boy perched on the driver's shoulders landed on the steering with his grip firmly held on to the driver’s matted locks, the driver looking down aghast! The carriers fell over the carried, transposing their earlier positions! Those on the seat railings surged forward to land on passengers seated in the rows ahead, those on the edge of the seats unseated to land on the carried and the carriers! But lo and behold, the conductor came into full view of the passengers as the protective ring around him decided to temporarily dismantle by blowing themselves to smithereens!

The driver restarted the engine and the drove for a while until a hamlet came into sight. A young dusky woman in her thirties yelled at the driver asking him to stop. The driver obliged…not before hearing rants from some passengers questioning his wisdom in attempting to make an unscheduled halt. The driver then drove on nonchalantly notwithstanding snide remarks from the naughty ones suggesting his motives! Soon the conversation among them drifted to the poor management of the transport corporation and the dire need of the hour for the Government to give away the passenger transport business to an enterprising individual like Ambani (who would be expected to sell tickets dead cheap like the mobile services! And yet maintain the best fleet with responsible employees). A small boy of nine hearing the conversation, quipped, “Ambani has better things to do than manage a horde of Tamil speaking drivers for you rotten brutes”. “True, true”, lamented an oldie, adding, “Only God can throw light on when we will be redeemed of our plight”. The little upstart, retorted again, “Not to worry grandpa, by the time that happens, you would have reached your heavenly abode!”

Winding its way further up on a gradient amidst paddy fields the bus soon headed towards what seemed a large expanse of water. Soon a large lake came into sight with pelicans and flamingos abounding on its sun-shone surface. A cool breeze wafted from across the water body into the bus as it neared the banks of the lake. Soon enough the conductor whistled, “VISHNUVAKKAM”, and then came the announcement, “Passengers for Kilanur, and Meyyur may also get down, Don’t expect the bus to go up to your godforsaken doorsteps”. At least a dozen disembarked here, one of them murmuring, “I know how many times you hijacked the public vehicle to your wretched doorstep!” Soon there was commotion at the rear end of the vehicle. A couple of cops had got into the bus with a hand-cuffed accused in tow. When the conductor looked askance at them, they said, “the jeep has broken down, we need to take this blackguard to the magistrate court.” He merely nodded his head sideways with anxiety writ large on his face and turned away. An old haggardly lady questioned authoritatively, looking at the accused, “What did you do?” The handcuffed one remained silent as one of the cops retorted, “You old one, shut up, otherwise this rotten guy will hack you the same way he did this morning at Sitanjeri.” The lady turned away in fear, casting furtive glances now and then at the accused.

In the meanwhile, I was lucky enough to 'perch' myself on a seat adjacent to the window on to my right. The trapeze acts for the last thirty minutes in the bus exhausted me enough to become drowsy, fanned by the fresh paddy-scented air coming in from the fields. I do not reckon how long I slept, but that should have been at least half an hour before the conductor woke me up, tapping me on my shoulders, “Saar Avadi....Would you mind getting down unless you want to travel back to Placepalayam again?”