Ordinarily Inspired(Abhishek Sanyal) The AC bus arrived 17 minutes late, nothing to worry about, Akash was in no hurry. The bus stop was not very comfortable but it served its purpose. For six in the evening, it was quite dark, and the neon in the shops were lighting up. Akash was waiting alongside half a dozen people, an assortment of city dwellers. The impatience of his co-passengers was a bit annoying. The odd swearing at the “inefficiency of the system” and “pitiful state of affairs in Mumbai” was too loud for him. He wanted quiet. He wanted to think. He wanted to write but, that wasn’t happening. He was out of ideas.

As the bus slowed to a stop a few feet ahead of the stop, Akash sighed and got in. Fortunately there were a couple of empty window seats to make his hour long journey more bearable. He took one of them near the middle of the bus. The seating was such that most were facing along with Akash, but there were a few seats facing towards him. The tall sealed windows provided him with a great view of a city rushing home for dinner and their beloved television. The solid glass worked to block out all the street sound, the honking and the shouting. He could focus on seeing the world without getting distracted by its noise. Akash settled in peacefully as building after building flew past him. There was a story in each window, he thought. A whole world in each home.

“There would be a man. There would be a woman. Maybe children. There would be laughter, joy, sorrow, anger, maybe even love. Maybe even loss. Their story might be worthy of a epic novel by a famous author, bestselling non-fiction stuff."

It was difficult to tell though. Every window looked exactly the same as the previous one or the next one. There was no uniqueness and nothing stood out. The exact same wrought iron grill, a couple of potted plants, the revolving ceiling fan casting a long shadow from the white tube-light. And the best TV set they could afford facing towards a sofa upon which the masters of this house sat with serious faces. This entire scene visible for just a second before the bus moved ahead and the next window would be a repeat. Maybe everyone is the same in their uniqueness, Akash mused. This thought troubled him more than he expected.

He was stirred out of this haze by the bus conductor. He sheepishly looked up to realize that he had not bought the ticket yet. The conductor had a no nonsense air about him. His faded uniform, full rimmed glasses and bushy mustache gave him the visage of a strict but kind headmaster. Akash handed him a 100 rupee note and told him his destination. The conductor, without any expression, gave him his ticket and change. There were no greetings, no small talk, just a simple business transaction. He just moved on to the next traveler yet to buy a ticket. This was not something that registered with Akash, although he would have preferred any interaction with another person to be more “human”. He made a mental note to do that next time.

By this time the bus had gotten crowded with quite a few people standing. The inside of the bus was very brightly lit, and the radio was faintly playing an old Hindi song on the speaker. Mostly no one cared for the radio, as they were listening to songs on their phones or talking to each other. Why do they play the songs then? Is it just to avoid the silence! The quiet is not that bad, Akash thought. While observing the travelers, among all these faces, one particular face stuck out. That was a girl, wearing the most vivid expression, in his opinion. He did not travel this route daily, so there was little chance that he would have run in to her before. But something about her was intriguing.

She was alone and on one of the seats facing Akash, wearing a blue top and hair flowing over her shoulders. She had a very stoic face, something akin to a quiet strength which is not common. She was lost in her thoughts and looking straight ahead, but her focus was far beyond the reach of her eyes. It looked like she had troubles, but she bore them with dignity and courage. Perhaps all is not well at home. Maybe she is having a bad time at her job. Or it could be the fate that befalls each one of their age, love. Whatever it was, it was testing her and she was succeeding.

At this point it occurred to Akash that he was staring at this woman for more than 15 minutes. Yes ‘woman’, that is a more fitting word for her, not ‘girl’. He quickly shifted his gaze out the window, but it turned out he didn’t need to. The girl got off the bus after a couple of minutes.

He thought about it for a while, was her story interesting? It could have been, had he known the details. It did not matter now, she was gone and so was her tale. Lost in these thoughts the time came for Akash to get off as well. He still wasn’t sure if he had got something to write about, but that would become clear later, once he would sit down with his laptop.

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