Buses, brakes and bald heads

Once again, it's time to leave home. I've spent the last two days pressing, folding and packing. Really, I envy those Bollywood heroines who screech hysterically, "Mein yeh ghar chod ke jaa rahi hoon!" and then just toss a few designer sarees into a designer suitcase rather unceremoniously and strut out of the ghar. Ohhh boy. Not so easy. I know my kind of 'leaving' is slightly different, but still.

Anyway, this time tomorrow, I'll be on a bus to Pondicherry. I generally like journeying by bus. More often than not, a bus ride is anything but uneventful. This leads me to narrate something that happened the last time I was traveling to Pondicherry (Yeah, kinda like Tinkle's 'It Happened To Me', I know)...

I was traveling alone, and I had a window seat in the very nice, very comfortable bus. Sitting right in front of me was a bald, middle-aged man (henceforth referred to as BMM, for convenience's sake), who, soon after the bus started moving, reclined his seat and promptly fell asleep. Every few minutes, he'd wake up and move the back of his seat a little further back. By the time we entered Tamil Nadu, the back of his seat (and his head) was resting against my knee. Bugged, I moved to the next seat which, thankfully, was empty. BMM started to snore, loudly at that. I got bugged-er. I looked around. Everyone else seemed to be asleep too, with the exception of a heavily pregnant lady who was retching into a plastic cover (her second. The first plastic bag was still hanging from the hook on the back of the seat in front of hers) with abandon.

I looked away, and focused all my attention on the snoring BMM. How could I wake him up? Which would be the best, most irritating way of doing so? Okay, I was being unnecessarily mean, but an idle mind is the devil's workshop, remember? I played a game on my cellphone, careful to shine the light on BMM's face. I was contemplating playing a loud and unpleasant ringtone (Mars, or Coconut would've been my choice), when the bus, which had been whizzing along at a remarkable speed, lurched to a sudden halt.

Inertia. I fell forward. Since I'd stowed the arm rest, I quite involuntarily grabbed that which had now taken it's place- BMM's bald head!!! To make matters worse, I'd had my mobile in my hand, and there was a dull THWACK when it made contact with BMM's skull. I withdrew my hand at once and squeaked, "Sorry, sir!", but the damage had been done. I wish I could describe the look (The Look) BMM gave me, but I can't. I won't even try... I'll leave it to your imagination.

Anyway, after that, BMM pulled his seat back into the normal position, I moved back to my own seat, and the pregnant lady stopped puking and threw both plastic bags out. Nothing untoward happened during the rest of the journey.

But the best part was yet to come. I got off the bus right in front of JIPMER, instead of going all the way to the Pondicherry Bus Stand. And guess what? BMM got off too! As we walked through the gates of JIPMER together, another man, a doctor, came striding up to BMM and spoke to him for a while. He called BMM 'Doctor'. So he works there in JIPMER. He's very probably a staff member. Maybe even a big shot... the kind that can pull some major strings.

Dr BMM gave me The Look again, and walked off.