The bus was extremely crowded from the very start. As I made my way through the barrage of shoulders, moist backs and legs, I regretted not taking lessons from a contortionist. I found a relatively empty spot near the middle and maneuvered myself towards it slowly. People climbed in steadily from the gates, and soon, pushed, shoved, manhandled and generally abused from all sides, I began to realize the sheer insignificance of my existence. I was already flustered and hot. All I could do is somehow keep myself vertical, and wait.
She boarded ten minutes later, and found a place in the driver’s cabin. I knew it was not possible for her to come towards me, and neither was it possible for me to cross the immense sea of sweaty and pissed-off travelers that separated us. She looked for me, her eyes darting past faces and finally locking with mine, and she smiled. I felt better, just like that. She was pretty then, in the sea of faces and limbs. I wondered how she managed to look good in that school uniform. I smiled back, and found ourselves conversing with each other, silently through our eyes.
Me – “This was such a bad idea”
Her - “There was no option really”
Me – “I know, but...”
She gave me a half-apologetic smile, which changed into that special smile which she keeps just for me. I found the ache in my legs disappearing.
Time passed. More people boarded. It was getting difficult for me to keep balance, but I managed somehow. There was no longer a clear line of vision between us, but I could understand that she was mostly looking my way, as I kept catching glimpses of a pair of smiling and twinkling eyes every once in a while when the bus banked or braked.
We moved on, people boarded and got down, life went on in general. Sometimes, I could see her, always looking at my direction. Although few and far between, those moments served to keep me happy, and generally oblivious to the hell I was in. After what seemed like ages, the crowd thinned. I saw she had found herself a seat, and was sitting with her head craned, looking at me. There was something in those eyes which made me feel better, energized, and happy. Some more conversation.
Me – “Next time, we’re not taking this route or this transport.”
Her – “At least I can see you this way”
Me – “Yes, for a few seconds every couple of minutes.”
Her – “Not enough, I know.”
We locked eyes. I blew her a kiss, and then another. She made a face full of mock-outrage, admonishing me.
Her – “What the hell! This is public transport, after all.”
But I could see the pink glow in her cheeks transform into red. I was happy, and smiling.
In a while, the crowd was forgiving enough to let me inch my way towards her. I stood next to her. She looked up and smiled. She had beads of sweat on her forehead, and she was still the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.
Me – “The things I have to do for you!”
Her – “I love you.”
She gently kept her hand on mine. And everything was perfect again.
