When it rains, It pours!

I don’t know if I attract trouble or ‘it’ inadvertently makes it a point to visit me on days I would really appreciate its absence. It’s been raining in Mumbai. It’s always raining in Mumbai! Yet, the last couple of days have seen a torrential downpour. I had to travel to Pune and be here early in the morning today. So, for the first time in my life, I diligently planned my travel and even got my bag packed a day before I had to travel. This was Saturday. For the benefit of those who do not know me, I dig the last-minute-chaos in everything I do. Sunday arrives and I am woken up to a strong disapproval by my sister about this travel. From the possibility of a landslide to chances of getting drowned in the Mumbai flood and to the extent that the bus carrying me could possibly topple over and fall into the valley, my hopes of getting out of the house were crumbled like toilet-paper. My fears were beginning to find the light of the day now. My phone alias Black beauty has been acting promiscuously for the last one year, more so, the last few months. She ditches me at times I would need her the most and I knew her alarm will fail me. No surprises it did, Black Beauty cheated on me again!

Even the back-up alarm did. See, I tried playing safe but c’est la vie! There goes half a grand down one of the many Mumbai drains. Its chaos time and my mother has gone into a frenzy which is typically characteristic of all  mothers. Mom is a compulsive worrier and I knew it was time for some serious damage-control. After somehow convincing her that I had until afternoon to reach, I looked up the internet for the next bus I could board. It’s raining cats, dogs and disappointments for me. Its 7 in the morning and the next bus with the shortest route is at 11. A three-hour journey that would avoid the detour of going around the city seemed to my very skeptical mind, the best plan-of-action! Outside, the pretentious rain had not stopped though it looked like it had sobered down since last night. The only saving grace to this catastrophic morning was the fact that I could spend my usual half an hour in the washroom. Old habits die hard but this one, in all earnestness, I doubt. So, I am ready by 9 hoping to leave by 10 but mom had other plans. She decides to throw me out of the house with a sincerity that I had never encountered from her before. “Go there and wait, I don’t want you to miss this bus”, she repeated at least half a dozen times to get me going. I left at 9.30 and the 1 kilometre stretch to the boarding point took almost an hour. By now, I had already thanked my sweet-natured mother a thousand times in my heart. A Thirty-minute wait and off I’d be. God seemed to be looking out for me. A slight drizzle and a horde of people waiting for their rides but next to me was this peculiar-looking guy. For starters, he was wearing his bag in the front which bulged disproportionately. Had he spoken any louder, it would have woken Lord Shiva from his state of ‘Samadhi’ and lastly he taught me a lesson I would never forget for life. And that is, never make eye contact with a person who loves eating a banana. The drizzle turned into a shower but had I come prepared. Faces changed, the rain got fierce and the sky got murkier in the next hour or so. The Maharashtra state transport service does not have a dedicated support-line for its passengers. Meanwhile, I see a bus approaching with the MSRTC sign on its windshield and it looked like the time for my woes to end is arriving alongside it! Well, it zoomed past me like an angry ex-girlfriend who wouldn’t want to see your face. I have had my share of heartaches but this was devastating. When it rains, it pours!

 After having called three different numbers, I had finally managed to get their much treasured passenger-support line which was constantly busy. Twenty minutes later when someone answered, Black Beauty jumped into action, the screen froze and the call got dropped. My sister had earlier told me that I sound like a robot calling from that phone. Another 15 minutes later I was talking to their guy who told me that the bus was late and it would be there, a little late maybea. In other circumstances I would have called it a minor relief but not today. My shoes were completely soaked and I guess today I literally had, what they call ‘A Cold Feet’. I was mysteriously drenched in patches all over my body, the details of which I choose not to get into. Two hours and 15 minutes from the time I had arrived, arrived my bus. The doors opened and I board it to see a policeman driving the bus. Sporting a black aviator, neatly combed hair and a properly trimmed moustache, indeed this guy was a ‘Bhai fan’.
The bus had a lady conductor who had the most benign smile I had seen in my life. Even before I could settle my luggage, she fired at me a few hundred questions or so it seemed, in Marathi. All I could mutter was ‘Hindi’. I think she went the extra mile translating her questions to 'Hindi' because most of them were irrelevant. The last legitimate question that she asked me was if I had my I.D on me and then politely suggested to keep it inside while I reached for my wallet. The highway was jam-packed and it was not long before our Dabbang driver hit a bike. And so the brawl began, with an old uncle deciding to poke his unusually long nose in this matter. By the time this old man realized that the driver was not actually a Policeman but a Salman Khan impersonator, his volume had gone significantly up. The ever-smiling conductor saved the day for us in the end. The scuffle behind us now, we were almost out of the city and that’s exactly when our driver decided, that the passengers deserved some entertainment. And now it was raining the choicest of sad songs one could excavate from our planet. ‘Why did you break my heart, why did we fall in love, why did you go away?’ were some of the questions Mr. Anu Malik was seriously posing at us. What else had you expected when you sing like that Mr. Malik? The quality of the songs kept getting worse and I guess all of us in the bus, silently yet unanimously decided that something had to be done. So I looked around and not so surprisingly found, that most of us had our earphones plugged in by now. Things were inordinately beautiful on the expressway with the clouds giving us company, the occasional sight of waterfalls and the lush greenery of the mountains. We stopped for a bite and everything started to feel a lot better after taking a leak. Had been holding it for 5 hours. The songs were typically from the 90’s when we resumed the journey and I wasn’t complaining anymore. Tumsa koi pyara koi masoom nahi hai, Saanwli Saloni teri jheel si aankhein, Tumhe apna banana ki kasam, Kuch kuch hota hai and the songs kept getting better. This ‘Bhai-fan’ was making up for the torture he had put us through earlier. The conductor had not stopped smiling and by now my jaws had started to ache from all the smiles I had had to reciprocate! I decided not to look at her at all until we had almost reached Pune and that's when I asked her where I should get down. The lady started to talk in Marathi again. Bummer!
I think she had the driver, herself and me pretty confused by now and so I was dropped at a location far from where I should have been. I was rudely greeted by an auto-wallah who did not seem to like me much but wanted me to definitely take his services. So after checking the Uber app which acknowledged that I could only get a ride after 10 mins, I hopped into his auto to be ripped off one last time today. 6.45 pm is when I got home. Pulled out my laptop to see it has died on me. Charging didn’t help. All I hope now is that tomorrow, it does not rain!

P.S. – Pune feels like home, Pune feels like many things.