Though travelling in  public buses of our cities poses great problems but it is here that one encounters different characters of a play called life.

it is from these experiences that i tell my stories.

I am about to unfold a story of a particularly humid and  hot day when i was wearing this pristine white outfit clearly outshining my co passengers.With each permitted as well as restricted halts the bus took my impatience to reach home grew.I was one of the many people standing and the bus driver showed no signs of humanity by filling the bus beyond its capacity and making us feel like members of some low breed herd.
With thoughts like these floating in my head a kind looking lady offered me a small space of her own on which i somehow was able to hold my posterior.

Now seated,  i indulged myself in the national passtime of observing other people, people both inside and outside the bus, people of different shapes, sizes and colour.Each person brought with him a distinct thought in my mind.It was then that a gang of moving humanity entered our space.Their appearence and mannerisms signalled that they were the inhabitants of an uncivilized and underdeveloped world whose existence we completely ignore in our complretely normal lives.they were the ones who flooded the urbane areas and established their own little townships known to us as slums.For the first time i was in such close proximity to their reality.I could see people from my part of the world shrink inside their bodies so as to avoid any possible physical touch  with them. The ladies held the corners of their sarees or dupattas and the men magically conjured up  their neatly ironed hankerchiefs in a desperate attempt to create their own world into which the smell of these unearthly beings could not permeate.

The sight of toddlers hanging from their mothers arms as the poor lady struggled with other bundles of insignificant valuables , reminded me of mother goddess in all her divinity.however nobody else saw that.Their presence was not so much revolting to others as it was to an elderly  man whose age and the thick of grey hair in his head presented a false picture of humility and wisdom.As one woman from the other world sat next to him, he howled in disgust and despair and commanded her not to touch him.Throughout the journey the man repeatedly commanded her in a language which our conquerors left us as legacy.He signalled an aerial partition between them and warned her against crossing it. Its true that they say partition is a mind game.Everybody else was in a muted disgust at the old man's disgust while they themselves stood precariously in their own ''no touch zones''

Much disturbed as my concepts of humanity had been shaken, when i reached home i myself took a shower and washed all my clothes.So much for soul searching!!.I was aware of my act but i passed it off as an essential hygiene measure and successfully shed my guilt.