The Bus Ride

The Bus ride: a short story?

?My first posting after commissioning and post-commission training was to a place called Chabua in Assam. With aspirations in my head, excitement in my heart and oversized bags in hands, I set forth for my duty station from my village in Haryana sometime in year 1997.

They say ‘life is a journey’, and some journeys give you lesson for lifetime. This was one trip which was a harbinger of things to come. ?

Train to Guwahati, followed by a very long bus ride to Chabua. In this overnight bus ride, I learn a few interesting lessons.

First lesson that I (re)learned was related to dynamics of motion: concepts connected with lever, moment arm, cantilever construction, center of gravity etc.?Seated on the last row of the oversized bus, I was hauled into air at every bump and pothole, which were many. It always help to be closer to the center of gravity; the first lesson.

The bus driver head a death wish and used acceleration to negotiate obstructions and other users of the road.?He was in a mission mode and reaching the destination was the only thing he was concerned with. He didn’t hit anything, everyone else seemed to make way for our bus. From him, I learned to be fearless on the job, and to not get distracted by anything else on the path.

There were ten of us in the last row, which was meant to seat only six. I learnt, we can do more with our resources, if only, we are willing to accommodate. Hemmed in and with no elbow room, I tried to distract myself by engaging in small talk. However, people seated on either side didn’t like me much, did not even return my friendly greetings. Assam, in those days was in the throes of insurgency; locals didn’t like fauzis much. I learnt that winning hearts and minds is a slow and tedious process.

Unable to catch any sleep in the roller coaster, I pulled out the carefully packed Old Monk and helped myself to some mighty swigs. Suddenly the world became a much better place to live. I learnt that alcohol does solve some problems. I offered some of the magic potion to my co-passenger and soon enough we became soul mates, friends for life. You see, alcohol has its uses.

The never ending journey finally ended after eleven hours of agony, and I was unceremoniously dumped outside the Air Force Station gates. The bus driver did not stop, I had to literally jump out of a slow moving vehicle. It was his way of saying “good riddance”. I learnt that, no matter how hard things are, they would eventually get better. Grin and bear.

In the quick-exit execution, I forgot to collect one of my bags, which contained some documents and uniform items. The occurrence seemed catastrophic at that moment. I felt that the loss of critical documents and uniforms necessary for day one would cause me untold agony. Nothing like that happened. Items were borrowed, documents were obtained through due process. Don’t sweat the small stuff; worrying doesn’t help; the final lesson from the trip.

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