The Bus
"It's 20 km from here," said my father as I hopped on into the bus. "Yay! a window seat!," I say sitting down. I look around, inside the bus, as the journey is yet to begin... A young mother; cradling her child. An old man and his grandson. Couple of college students. A family of three. Another old man. My father. The conductor. The driver. It is half full. And now, off we go. I rest my head on the window pane, letting myself vibrate, letting my head relax, enjoy the free massage. The cool breeze blows my hair, caresses my face, tickles my neck, makes me smile. I squint at the Sun, thanking it for the warmth. With every halt and gear, my head bangs slightly on the pane. No, it doesn't hurt. I enjoy it instead... A Bollywood song sounds from somewhere... Wait, I know this one. Have heard it before. But where is it coming from? Oh, it's the young mother's ringtone. She answers, a sweet smile across her face. Her child is...