The Bus


“It’s Diwali time, it’s Diwali time.” Sanjeev squealed, as he bounced around his room from corner to corner. His little white teeth were displayed in a permanent grin. His cheeks were flushed red.

“It’s Diwali time.” He raced into his parent’s room. Papa sat on the bed, glancing up briefly, before going back to his newspaper. Mumma sat next to the dresser, combing her hair. She turned to her seven-year-old son and smiled.

The festival of Diwali always got him excited. The entire city lit up with an amazing diversity of diyas and lights, of all sizes, shapes and colors. The fridge in every home was stocked with fancy sweets and mithai.

Sanjeev loved the lights and the mithai, but neither were his favorite part of the great Indian festival.

“Diwali is tomorrow.” Papa interjected, folding his newspaper.

“I know that, Papa.” Sanjeev replied, still skipping around. “But, today we go to buy the firecrackers.”

He beamed at his mother. Her eyes met his in a knowing gaze.

“When are we leaving? When are we leaving?” Sanjeev demanded.

“In ten minutes.” Mumma told him.

“Yayyy,” Sanjeev roared his approval. “How are we going? Are we taking the bus?”

“Yes.”

“Yayyy…is it going to be the big red double-decker bus, Mumma? “

“Yes, beta, we’ll take the double decker.”

“I love that bus. Can we sit on the top level, Mumma?”

“Yes, beta, we can sit wherever you want.”

Sanjeev went to his room and brought out his red toy bus. It was a tiny replica of the double-decker buses that adorned the streets of Mumbai.

He came back into his parent’s room, singing, “Wheels on the bus go round and round; wheels on the bus go round and round…”

Mumma grinned at him. Sanjeev rolled his toy bus on the floor.

“You know which crackers I’m getting this time? I’ll get the Ashoka Zamin Chakras, you know the ones that go on for extra-long, and give colored sparks.”

Mumma put her comb down and started putting on makeup. “Okay, now let Mumma get ready. You also go put on your shoes.”

“I love those ones, Mumma. Also, this time I’ll get the Peacock rockets, you know the big ones that go really high and burst into a rainbow. Those are soooo awesome. Can I get those rockets, Ma? The big ones this time?”

“First, go put on your shoes.”

“You know Rahul was telling me about this new cracker called Phoenix Comets. He said they are like square blocks that jump up in the air, spin round and round and give amazing sparks. And you know, after they stop, you think they are done, and then suddenly they start spinning again.”

“Can I get those ones also, ma?” The sparks in Sanjeev’s eyes also appeared to be spinning round and round.

“Yes, beta,” Mumma smiled. “We’ll get the cool new crackers also. Now, will you put on your shoes quickly?”

Sanjeev dashed off to his room, and returned within the blink of an eye, with his shoes on. He entered the room mid-sentence. “…go round and round. Wheels on the bus go round and round…”

Mumma started walking towards the door, with Sanjeev trailing at her heels. “We’ll be back by lunch time.” She called out to her husband, as she stepped out of the house.

“Wheels on the bus go round and round.” Sanjeev continued to sing. “It’s Diwali time, its Diwali time.”

Mumma took his hand as they walked down the slope leading to the street. Their place was part of a cozy residential society, located in the heart of South ‘Bombay’ or ‘SoBo’ as the kids had started calling it. There had been some unseasonal rain last night, and the ground was still wet. Small puddles formed in the ever-present potholes that littered their streets.

The bus stop was right at the bottom of the slope. As they came nearer to the stop, she saw the red frame of Bus No. 132 already stationed there.

“Let’s move quickly, the bus is here.” Mumma said, and increased their pace of walking. The next bus would be half an hour later.

They just reached the bus stop when the bus engine revved into life. The big wheels started to roll forward.

“Hold on a minute.” Mumma shouted. But, those double-deckers only had an entrance at the back, and the driver probably didn’t hear her.

Mumma put Sanjeev ahead of her and lifted him onto the bus.

“Hold onto something, beta.” She yelled.

Sanjeev went silent with this sudden surge of activity. He followed his mother’s instructions and grabbed a hand-rail near the entrance.

The bus picked up some speed. The fumes of its diesel engine made their way to Sanjeev’s nostrils, mixing with the smell of recent rainfall. He winced, and looked to his mother.

Mumma grabbed a handle on the entrance with one hand and ran with quick strides, alongside the bus. She lifted her right foot and put it on the platform, inside the bus entrance. Her other leg was still outside, on the ground.

Sanjeev looked into his mother’s eyes and registered a look of panic.

Mumma’s tried to swing her left leg into the bus. But, the bus jerked ahead, and she couldn’t hold her footing.

“Shit,” Mumma shouted. The bus began to gain more speed.

Mumma skidded her left foot against the ground, still holding onto the hand-rail. Her right foot wobbled on the platform.

Sanjeev stared at his mother, with a knot building inside his stomach. He moved his hand towards Mumma.

The bus shot ahead again. Mumma’s right leg, which was inside the bus, was thrown off balance. Her hand left the handle, flailing in the air.

Sanjeev’s heart nearly stopped beating. He saw his mother’s fear-stricken eyes right in front of him. His arm remained outstretched, but it was too far from her.

“Aaaararghh.” Mumma screamed. In a flash, she was airborne. Her body hurled forward and landed with a thud face-first, a foot ahead of the rear entrance of the bus. Her arms and legs spread out in every direction.

The rear wheel of the bus went round and round over Mumma’s leg, pressing it against the ground.

“Yaaaarrrghhhh,” Mumma screeched louder than Sanjeev had ever heard anyone scream in his life. All the color drained from his face.

The bus jolted to a stop. Sanjeev was thrown forward, along with many other passengers. He fell to the floor, but immediately picked himself up, and jumped out of the bus.

A crowd had gathered around the fallen body of Mumma. Sanjeev ran to her side. The bus driver also made his way there.

Mumma lay on her back, her eyes half-closed, wailing loudly. Her left arm reached for the wounded leg.

Sanjeev’s face remained white as snow. He head was spinning, his vision blurring.

The crowd began to yell things.

“What should we do?”

“Call the police.”

“Let’s take her to a hospital first.”

“Did you see what happened?”

“It’s her leg. The bus ran over it.”

“Wasn’t there a kid with her?”

A young woman bent down and massaged Mumma’s leg. “Does it hurt?”

“Where do you live, madam?” Somebody shouted.

“Which hospital should we take her to?”

“Where’s the boy who was with her?”

Mumma opened one eye, and pointed towards Sanjeev, who stood like a statue. Strong arms grabbed his shoulders.

“What’s your name, beta?”

“Are you her son?”

“Where do you live?”

Sanjeev opened his mouth to say something, but no words seemed to come out.

The arms that held him shook him gently. Sanjeev blinked and saw a pair of soft eyes looking at him. The Good Samaritan was a middle-aged man, who pulled Sanjeev aside, and patted him on the head. “Don’t worry, beta. It’ll be alright.”

“She’s my Mumma.” Sanjeev blurted. “She’s my Mumma.”

“Ok, good.” The man nodded. “Can you tell me where you’ll live?”

“Shyam….Shyam…Shyam Niwas.” Sanjeev gestured up the slope.

“Good. What’s your name, beta?”

“Sanjeev.”

The man looked up the slope. “Wait here a minute, Sanjeev. I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

He spoke to a few of the others who were gathered on the scene. Within moments, he returned to Sanjeev. “Is there anybody at home right now?”

Sanjeev nodded. “Papa is there.”

“Ok, good. Now, let’s go to your house and get your Papa. Can we do that, Sanjeev?”

Sanjeev stared at his Mumma. An ambulance with its flashing lights had appeared and was parked nearby. She was being lifted onto a stretcher.

“Mumma,” Sanjeev yelled. “Mumma.”

But Mumma didn’t hear him. Her eyes were closed. Soft moans continued to come out of her mouth.

“Don’t worry, beta.” The Good Samaritan told him. “They’re taking her to Breach Candy Hospital. She’ll be properly taken care of. “

Sanjeev stood there, breathing heavily. He began to feel dizzy.

Strong arms gripped him again. “Sanjeev, you must take me to your Papa and tell him what happened.”

Sanjeev nodded and started walking up the slope, along with the Good Samaritan.

He raced into his house. “Papa, papa, where are you?”

The Good Samaritan waited near the door, while Sanjeev found his father. Sanjeev jumped to his Papa and hugged him.

Papa looked alarmed. “What happened?”

Sanjeev looked down at the floor, trembling. “Mumma…Mumma…”

Papa put an arm on his son’s shoulder. “Where is Mumma?”

Sanjeev’s eyes had a glazed look. “The bus…we were running for the bus….and…we were late…and…”

Sanjeev felt his body shaking.

“Don’t worry, Sanjeev.” Papa said, but his eyes grew wider and wider. “Just tell me what happened.”

“I got into the bus, but Mumma couldn’t….” Sanjeev babbled on. “Mumma was running and running…and trying to get on the bus…but she fell down…and then…and then…the bus drove on her leg.”

Papa took a deep breath and exhaled. “Where is she now?”

“They took her to the hospital…the man with me knows…”

Papa let go of Sanjeev and went to meet the Good Samaritan, who succinctly explained what he knew and informed him that his wife was at Breach Candy Hospital.

Papa took it all in, and his face appeared calm. “It’s lucky that Breach Candy Hospital is right across the street at least.” While he was talking, he was buttoning his shirt, and putting on his shoes.

“Sanjeev, I’m going to the hospital where Mumma is, you stay at home till I…”

“No.” Sanjeev cut him off. “No, I’m coming with you.”

“Sanjeev, you don’t need to…”

“I’m coming.” Sanjeev had a defiant look in his eyes.

Papa shrugged. “Let’s go then.”

Breach Candy Hospital was full of hustle and bustle. Doctors in white suits walked with clipboards in their hands, and black stethoscopes around their necks. Nurses in blue scrubs, went from room to room, doing their rounds.

Papa insisted that Sanjeev remained in the waiting area while he went to find out what was happening. Sanjeev sat on a wooden bench, observing the constant movement around him. Families gathered in and around every room, with grave faces. A pungent, medicinal odor filled the air, and was making him nauseas. He hated the smell of hospitals.

Sanjeev’s mind conjured up images of the big red bus, and of his Mumma falling under it. He could still hear her screams inside his head. He rocked his body back and forth, without realizing it.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only twenty minutes, Papa emerged back outside. Sanjeev stopped rocking, and sat bolt upright in his seat.

Papa slowly walked over to him. “Mumma’s going to be fine. Her leg is fractured, but the doctors say it will heal soon.”

Sanjeev nodded, holding his breath.

Papa put his arm around him. “Everything is going to be alright, beta.”

Sanjeev nodded again. The screams still rang out in his head.

“Mumma’s sleeping now.” Papa said. “You go on home and have dinner. I’ll come and get you in some time.”

Sanjeev looked at his Papa, whose serene look comforted him.

“I’ll see you soon, beta. We can talk to Mumma tomorrow, after she wakes up.”

Sanjeev gradually rose to his feet. He walked out of the hospital, and onto the street. He felt a cold numbness had gripped his body. He entered his room, feeling light-headed.

The red toy bus lying on the floor caught his eye.

‘Wheels on the bus go round and round…’ He heard the tune in his head.

Sanjeev picked up the toy bus, and stared at it. He took it to the kitchen, opened the garbage can, and threw it inside. He slammed the lid shut.

‘Wheels on the bus go round and round…’

Bon Voyage


A letter to a friend about to set off on a new chapter of life:


Dear XXX,

I am writing to wish you the best as you embark on a new phase of life. I imagine you must be filled with anticipation about what lies ahead. How will living in New York be like? Will it be challenging or enjoyable? Will you meet interesting people? Will you form lasting friendships? What will the next step after that be for you?

Ah, the glorious uncertainties of life. Such uncertainty brings with it a blank canvas of infinite possibilities. Such uncertainty is the joy of being alive.

Our lives are filled with journeys, whether it is enrolling in a graduate degree program or entering a competition or starting a new business or a new relationship. However, there is also an inner journey accompanying our external endeavors and our experiences in the world.

This inner journey happens in the background of our consciousness. It influences how our attitudes and perceptions change based on our experiences. If we can bring it into the foreground from time to time, if we can turn our light of awareness on what’s happening inside of us, we can gain insight about who we really are and what makes us tick.

I wish nothing less for you during your journey. I hope you that discover your inner spark. I hope that life is kind to you. I hope that you find what your heart desires most.

I’ll leave you with one final quote that is one of my personal favorites:

~Every journey has a secret destination of which the traveler is unaware~

Sincerely,
ZZZ.

A Writer's Prayer


O Divine Force,
O Lord of Creation,
I am your little child.
As I sit here today, I am here to serve you.
Anything that gets created through me will only be with your blessings.
I am your instrument, your vehicle for delivery of the stories that must be told.
Guide me, for I am here to do your bidding.


Match Point


2-6, 2-5; 15-40.

Javier bent down, on his haunches, breathing heavy. He glanced up at the scoreboard, and then stared at ground. His stomach squirmed inside.

Match point. He was about to be knocked out of the tournament. The same tournament that he had worked so hard, and sacrificed so much, to part of.

As he slowly stood up, his mind flashed back to all those skipped classes; all those missed outings with friends and family; all those parties he didn’t attend; all the hard training sessions, the hours of relentless practice he had put in; He remembered his knee injury, and how traumatic that had been, and then the eventual recovery that followed. He remembered his first girlfriend, Laura, dumping him, because of his commitment to his tennis. He remembered missing his grandmother’s funeral, while he was at a training camp.

His jaw clenched together unconsciously. Was he really going to lose after all that? After all those journeys, was he going to bow out tamely in the quarter-final? Was it all over for him?

A burst of adrenalin soared through his veins.

No. No way. It was not over for him. Not today. Not like this.

He took a ball out of his pocket, and went up to the line, preparing to serve. He looked across the net. His opponent was ready, waiting to pounce, probably eager to finish him off and go home.

Javier’s breathing became steady. He bounced the ball on the ground. Silence. Not a single thought flowed through his mind. He felt a gentle gust of wind flick against his sweaty brow. All he could hear was his own breathing.

He tossed the ball up, arched his back, and swung the racket in a swift motion. Ace. 30-40.

His mind remained still. His breathing was an even keel. He went back to the mark, and served again. Another clean connection, but this time the opponent got a racket on it and it came across to his service line.

Javier saw the trajectory of the ball, every step of the way, as if it were moving in slow motion. He saw the ball, only the ball, and nothing but the ball. He found that his legs had already carried him into the perfect position for the next shot. With a deft flick of the racket, the ball was dispatched to the open court for a winner. Deuce.

            Two more clean aces, and Javier took that game, making the score 3-5.

            ….Javier went on to win the match 2-6, 7-5, 6-3, and stay alive in the tournament.

*****

0-2; 75th minute.

            Gooaaaal. The opposing team players rushed to celebrate with the goal scorer, who was dancing at the corner flag. The majority of the stadium went into a stunned silence, except for the small contingent of traveling fans, who yelled in excitement.

            Andy looked to the sky in angst. His shoulders slumped, his back hunched. He could scarcely believe it.

They needed to win this match to get through to the next round of the tournament. To do that, they now had to score three goals in less than fifteen minutes. Given that they hadn’t managed a single one in the last seventy-five minutes, their chances were less than bleak. He looked at his fellow midfielder, Scott’s downcast eyes and saw nothing but despair.

            His team was about to go down in front of their home crowd. Their season would be over. What an arduous season it had been. First, the two top scorers from last season, left to play for other teams. Then, Marco, the main goal-keeper, suffered a hamstring injury. Despite all that, the team came together, filled-in the various positions, and somehow got to that point. There were lot of disputes and tough moments. So many players had to play out of position, out of their comfort zone. Yet, the team was still there in the tournament, still hanging on.

As he trudged back along with his teammates, to their own half, Andy looked at the crowd in the stadium, where a grave silence hung in the air. Some had already started making their way to the exits, unable to bear the misery any longer.  A young boy, sitting in the first few rows, caught Andy’s eye. The boy was wearing the home team’s jersey, and holding the flag. His face was painted with the team’s colors. But at that moment, his face had contorted into an expression of pain. He looked like he was about to cry.

Andy felt something snap inside of him. It was like a dam bursting and releasing a deluge of water.

We can’t let go. We can’t lose this. Not here. Not today. No chance in hell.

“This is not over,” Andy found himself yelling at his teammates, who stared at him. He quickly rounded them into a huddle.

“This is not over,” He repeated. “We’re not going to lose today. No way. Now, I know you’ll are tired and it’s been a tough season, but we can’t let this go.” Andy paused and looked at his teammates. The words were automatically pouring out of him. His voice rose to a fever pitch. “We didn’t come this far, to lose like this at home. We didn’t go through all that, only to be knocked out.”

Andy was shaking his head. “Let’s fight for Marco, and for our coach. Let’s fight for all those doctors and trainers that gave up their nights and weekends to get us in shape for this. And most of all, let’s fight for these fans that have filled the stadium every weekend, traveled through rain and snow, and supported us through thick and thin.”

He saw a glimmer of hope in his teammate’s eyes. He could tell that his words were having an effect. “Let’s do this.”

“Yeah.”

“C’monnnnn.”

“It’s not over…”

“Let’s give them HELL.”

Play resumed, and the team raced around the field with renewed energy. Each player covered their positions as though their life depended on it.

Andy began controlling more of the ball in the midfield and dictating play. His mind had suddenly cleared of all noise. His breathing was rhythmic. He found his legs moving swiftly, of their own accord.

He stole the ball of the opposing midfielder and darted ahead down the left of the field. A couple of defenders were closing in on him from ahead. Of the corner of his eye, he saw Scott was unmarked to his right. He tilted his body to the left, and slid the ball across to Scott. In the next instant, he spun in between the two defenders and made a run into the opposing penalty area.

Scott saw this movement, and immediately laid the ball back to Andy. Before the defense had a chance to react, Andy cut back to the center, with the ball at his feet. His mind was still eerily silent. He looked up at the goal. The goalkeeper was moving closer to him, trying to cut off the angles.

Andy lifted his right foot, turned slightly to the right, opening up his body. The goalkeeper saw this and started stretching to his left, to the far post. But Andy had other ideas. At the last instant, he changed direction, swung his foot to the left and let the ball fly towards the near post. The goalkeeper was left wrong-footed and unable to react.

Andy watched the ball airborne, as if in slow motion. It crashed into the bottom corner of the net.

Gooaaaaal. Andy was surrounded by his jubilant teammates. 1-2. He picked the ball up and carried it to the center line.

“It’s not over.” Andy shouted. “We still have work to do.”

The team drove onwards, their blood pumping at a furious rate. They didn’t let the opponents hold the ball for more than a couple of seconds at a time. When they had the ball, they surged forward towards the opposing goal in numbers, like iron filings drawn to a magnetic north pole. It was an irrepressible force.

…Andy’s team went on to score two more goals in the remaining minutes to win the match 3-2, and stay alive in the tournament.

*****

The Married Couple


(Standard bedroom setting; Sunday morning; Husband is lounging on the bed in his pajamas with a remote in hand; a TV stands against the far wall. Wife is fully dressed, and strides in and out of the room.)

Wife:
(stepping into the room, mid-sentence) Have you seen my keys?
Husband:
(stares blankly)
Wife:
(hustles around the room) I can’t find my keys. Where are they?
Husband:
(looks up) I’m sure they are around somewhere.
Wife:
Then where are they? Why can’t I find them? I’ve looked everywhere…
Husband:
(yawns) What time is it?
Wife:
Ha? Can’t you see the clock in front of you? It’s 10:30.
Husband:
(clicks the remote a few times, till he settles on the right channel)
Wife:
(goes out of the room, and then comes in back shortly) I still can’t find my keys…where are they?

Husband:
They’ll turn up somewhere.
Wife:
You’re useless…
Husband:
Hmm…
Wife:
(suddenly catches sight of the keys, fallen next to the bed) There they are
(Wife takes her keys, and steps out of the room. Two hours later, wife returns. Husband is in exactly the same spot, on the bed, in his pajamas, watching TV).

Wife:
(striding into room, dumping her purse) Whew, it’s so hot outside today.
Husband:
Hmm…
Wife:
The brunch was really good. I had the egg salad, and then also the strawberry tart for dessert.

Wife:
(puts her hand on her stomach) I think I ate too much. I can’t afford to put on more weight.

Husband:
Hmm…
Wife:
(looks at herself in the mirror) I shouldn’t have had desert. Have I been putting on weight?

Husband:
(not looking up from his TV) No dear.
Wife:
Tell me really, no. Have I put on weight? Am I looking fat?
Husband:
(looks up) No, not at all, dear.
Wife:
You know that Sheila has put on her so much weight. I was seeing her today after a long while. Her waistline is definitely bulging.

Husband
Hmm…
Wife:
And you should hear that Tina go on and on about her new house.
Husband:
Hmm…
Wife:
Just because she’s moved to the posh neighborhood, she thinks that she is better than everyone else. And you know, she has gotten into that new club, The Executive Club, which no one seems to get into. Didn’t we also apply?

Husband:
We are on the waitlist. (clicks the remote). Do we have more batteries for this thing?

Wife:
(absently takes the remote from him, steps out and comes back with batteries) That Tina has got membership to The Executive Club. I believe it has an amazing pool, and beautiful lawns; They have a lovely barbecue every Sunday evening there.

Husband:
Hmm…
Wife:
(hands back the remote, with the batteries replaced) They also have a superb party room where members can entertain guests.

Husband:
(takes his remote back, and experiments with clicking)
Wife:
But Tina brags on and on about this and that. I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t know why I even go out with her.

Husband:
Then, why do you?
Wife:
What?
Husband:
If you dislike Tina so much, then why do you go out with her?
Wife:
(frowns) Because she is Julie’s friend, who is Kiran’s sister, who is in the same yoga class with me and Kavi. Also, Tina’s niece goes to the same school as Veena’s daughter and Veena is an office friend of my close friend, Tanya..

Husband:
(scratches his head) Okaayy..
Wife:
…you wouldn’t understand…
Husband:
(goes back to watching TV intently)
Wife:
Also, next Saturday we are going out for dinner with the Kumar’s.
Husband:
(continues watching his TV)
Wife:
And the weekend after that, we are having lunch with my sister.
Husband:
Hmm…
Wife:
Oh, did you get that crystal showpiece I asked you to pick up?
Husband:
Ha?
Wife:
It’s available right next to your office. I reminded you to pick it up last Sunday. (starts pacing around the room)

Husband:
Hmm…(leans to the side, to watch the TV around his wife)
Wife:
I can’t believe you forgot again.
Husband:
(still straining his neck to watch the TV) I’ll get it tomorrow.
Wife:
That’s too late. We had to take it as a gift for Ravi’s house-warming party tonight.
Husband:
Tonight?
Wife:
(notices him leaning to look around her at the TV) What are you watching anyways?

Husband:
It’s the Wimbledon quarter-finals.
Wife:
(turns to look at the TV) You and your tennis.
Wife:
(turns back to face him) The party is tonight, and now we have nothing.
Husband:
(still watching the TV) Can’t we just pick up something on the way?
Wife:
No, I had picked out the perfect gift, and you had to forget. I’ll just have to go get that right now…unless you have some other brilliant ideas?

Husband:
Hmm…
Wife:
…I didn’t think so…
Wife:
I’ll need to withdraw some money. I’m taking the debit card.
Husband:
Hmm…
(Wife opens the cupboard, takes a few things, grabs her purse and heads out. Half an hour later, she comes back into the bedroom to find her husband still in the same position on the bed, in his pajamas, watching TV.)

Wife:
Oh God, you still haven’t gotten out of bed. You haven’t even taken a bath. What are you just sitting there? C’mon, get up, it’s past lunch time…

Husband:
(yawns, stands up slowly, stretches out his arms, and disappears into the bathroom)