One ride on a public bus in Kolkata jolted me back to my senses. All those sweet mushy excesses that I have been witness to was washed out of the window, thanks to the string of abuses and threats that shot into my overhearing ear. I never thought that a simple bus ride to my old haunt - college and beyond - would prove so enlightening.
I was feeling quite happy that even after being quite out of touch with the public transport in good ol' Calcutta, I had managed to grab a seat. And then came the fated phone call. Now if one has taken a ride on a Calcutta bus, one must have noticed that something as personal as a phone call does not remain all that personal anymore. From the very first ring to the awkward (for the unfortunate listeners in this case) end to that conversation (as is the case here) the whole process is a public affair. The conversation is carried out in a voice quite above normal, blame the traffic and the external noise as well as the person on the other side. Now it is the responsibility of the co-passengers to maintain one's dignity and at least pretend to not overhear or not overhear at all. Yours truly, being quite out of practice with the art couldn't help overhearing - though in my defense I was sitting next to the this person - and the words that shot into my ear were like missiles shooting out and splintering in every possible direction.
When the person in question got off at a nearby stop I wondered, is it the passage of time, or the weather, or the geographical location, or was it I simply lacked the power of observation and "overhearing"... or is it a natural course that a relationship runs through?
Anyway, I have done too much of pondering on this issue over the last two posts. I will rest my case and let the rightful figure it out.