'Bus Episodes'

Situated below Prangin mall is a tunnel of sorts; a prayer wheel via paradox: a union of whirring traffic and rest of lowly trishaws, crude taxis and sardine-busses. It is here that sometimes against the monoxide and heckling, I wait. Sometimes, it can only be as pleasant as you allow it: a boy, perhaps between the age of twelve to fifteen, badgers anyone who wishes to board the longer bus, into one that is almost brimming, thrice smaller - he collects a ringgit from each passenger and yells at them to compact like sardines [obviously: to make way for more. (You can get away with a lot, when you're a wee brave lad)]. In my mind a mechanism forms: a hand that pushes; a will for a quota to be filled. I can only speculate that on his good days, this kid gets a few ringgit from each bus collection before they leave for their designated destinations; and on his bad ones: he's being taunted mercilessly by the drivers.

I picked up a five ringgit note from the curb yesterday as I was getting onto a bigger bus. The kid didn't see it. Amidst his yells of each main stop of the bus I slipped him my fare - and as soon as I made my way pass him, the note was quickly snatched up and pocketed into my left breast pocket (done with a pat). A trade in my favour, I smiled, as it wasn't often. I went on to get the last available seat on the bus and again, the journey only commenced when things were saturated.

Today, after a few exchanges of individuals boarding and alighting the bus, I found myself seated next to a burly Indian man. He had his arm slightly hanging by the side by positioning his elbow against the window sill (it would seem that he was going for that natural look). At one of the stops, near an all girl's school, he waved at an Indian woman, whom initially I thought was his friend or perhaps, an aquaintance. A few more stops down the road and I realised that the guy was practically motioning to every single Indian woman who was in our path. When we reached the main stop opposite Komtar, he got down, walked a few lazy paces and propped himself against the wall of an overlooking chinese temple (which was behind him). His eyes were on a girl seated two rows from mine.

"She left you, didn't she?"

"You're drawing conclusions from your own observations then?"

"With such a pattern, I can only link this to one. There was one, who triggered all this.."

"But you'll never know, will you?"

And the bus moved on.

( _")