The Drop

A new city always tends to throw in surprises on you. There are things which are routine for other people but it’s not the way you have seen things happen around you. It was one fine such day well not exactly fine as I missed one bus and the next one was after an hour and as luck would have it I went to have my nimbu paani when the next one arrived, so I left my nimbu paani and ran behind the bus. I am sure it was a scene to watch for the people around the bus stop. Had it not been for one person called a CONDUCTOR I would have missed the bus. He noticed me running and when he had enough of fun watching me do, it he pulled the rope connected to a mini bell which is placed near the driver seat.

Anyways I managed to get into the bus, but the nightmare did not end there. The bus was so heavily crowded; I guess I was better off missing this one too. I pushed myself forward hoping that there would be some place to sit, I needed it badly because my stop was the last one and my acrobats to get into the bus had already tired me out. Let me tell you one thing. In a crowded bus like this you can always see the diversity in our country very easily and this reminded me of one ecological balance diagram I had seen when I was in school. It told about how ecological systems can vary in a very small distance and this crowded bus did give me an idea of how complicated these things are, hats off to all those who have spent all their lives studying this.

In two minutes my feet, started accusing me of all the agony I was implicating. Just then there was a small pat on my back. It was an old man; he had wrinkled face with a huge part of his skin hanging down his neck. He had a small bald patch on his forehead and his grey hair was neatly pulled back, probably to hide another bold patch. He was wearing a khaki coloured shirt uniform. He got up from his seat

“Son, sit here I will be getting down in some time” he said and stood besides the seat he had just given up.

 Normally I would have asked him to be seated and get up only when his stop was nearby but today I had to give in because of the kind of day I had. I was but a little surprised because in Pune the people in the buses just don’t give up their seats so easily. His body language was different, while he was standing just besides me, he was looking outside the window. He wasn't seeing what all the other people where seeing outside, his face told a story of its own. I thought I could ask him something, may be offer his seat back to him, hoping that he was alright.

Even before I could gather my thoughts, a small tear drop fell on my wrist. It shone like a small pearl and I knew tears aren’t something one sheds every day. I raised my head towards him, his eyes where now misty, he hurriedly took out a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed the tear off my hand, and pushed his way out of the bus. I was held back by something, after all he was a stranger, what would I have asked him? Why would he have even talked to me.

I wonder what made him shed that tear, which was the same reason why he was alone in this crowded bus and that something was also the same thing which did not allow him to share any of his emotions with anyone. His emotions were like the tear which he wiped off from my hand, it was precious and pure but not everyone deserved to see it. I knew I was undeserving , but I closed my eyes and prayed, that’s the least I could do