Nostalgic Bus Rides
Today’s bus ride was nostalgic. I remembered the days after school and uni, clutching onto a handrail and keeping my bag close to me – away from pickpockets. I remember leaning against the railing so that the potential pervert conductor could not rub against my butt as he moved down the aisle.
It was nostalgia but it was ridiculous too. I would usually take a tuk tuk home. Today I was riding in a bus because the tuk tuk fares are way over my budget and my expenses these days have been ginormous. It’s not on binge shopping or eating. It’s been on house repairs, materials, medical expenses and dealing with my parents and their conditions.
It’s not fun. But it’s life and that I have come to accept. I realised how different the roads looked at night. The bridge in Kirulapone looked almost like a mosaic in the twilight – white and beautiful. I never noticed that pattern during the day because I always travelled parallel to it. Here I was facing it. Talk about perspective. Many things in life are perspective.
We just need to turn to see it. But can we?
It’s been bleak and it’s gloomy these days. Cold, almost drowning in the cold and the gushing waters. Flood warnings, earth slip warnings. Plenty. But it’s the same old thing, isn’t it? Last year and year before.
It’s been one millstone after another. Easter attacks, Covid -variants Alpha to Delta, economic Armageddon, Aragalaya, local Churchill and back to floods. So the circle continues and it’s upto us to either look in, out or above. Now I have started looking above.
When you look at the wider picture, it’s easier to understand the individual pixels that together make up the image. Each feels like a monumental event but it eventually just merges into one great whole.
In the cold, that hole becomes a refuge for some and a dungeon for others. I found my father in his dungeon refuge and gave him a piece of my mind because I have reached my zenith in tolerance of rubbish. Some days, we gotta let people know that they can’t push our boundaries.
Ha ha, I do that at work regularly. It happens when you deal with men who are used to women being glorified doormats and secretaries. Not equals. I take no such crap.
These days are hard. And the rain is not helping though the plants can satiate their thirst and the country can hopefully power another season of electricity courtesy the floodwaters. But too much of anything can be dangerous. Death will happen and life will keep ticking on its perpetual clock of seasons, reasons, lives and deaths. It’s upto us to work within what is given or move away and take stock of what we can.
This year I am going on a hike in the middle of these floods. Coz good times aren’t always in the sunshine – some days you gotta learn to dance in the rain, even though a wet butt is not always the most desirable when you gotta sit on it.