journey back home

Would not sit here to describe the whole story of the day but yes something that has happened with me repetitively and today has finally compelled me to write on this one...
Its november rain in mumbai, quite exciting and thrillling...But we mba students have to be stuck inside the four walls to be physically present to ensure that at the end of the lecture "p" appears on the attendance sheet....But who says thats all, apart from that u choose be in the innovation clubs of college popularly known as " innowe' my second home...and after all those meetings comes the best part of getting down to the basement where the recreation room is filled with all the TT mascots to hit shots not on table but on each other..well today even thats was bad, a series of defeat..Finally the clock stuck 8 and the cinderella had to get back home , i put on my id card which i had taken out to play TT carried my heavy bag with laptop and left with a friend towards the station..as i started by saying that it was raining ,, it was still raining ..No umbrelllass but still had to getback home.. Both of us ran towards the station and peacefully caught a train( an empty train - to our surprise)..Me standing at the edge of the train to feel every chillof wind touching my face and cutting accross my duppata hanging outside the train..some gestures asking me to be careful but i just loved it so much with the new atif song ringing bells in my ear may be for the 50th time.. all seemed just so beautiful..Ghatkopar station arrives and as usual I waited for the auto to come so that I could reach home early to finish up the backlogs.Messy station, people crowded like cockroaches( the population just seems to be killing you), busus gushing just half an inch besides u making sure that you make that curve that you just practised while doing one of the asanas in yoga..

The price ceiling policy which i had learnt in economics just matched the situation created of shortage of auto in the station.. People drenched, some Under umbrella, some carrying babbies around the waist, some couples holding hands and amongst all of them here i am without an umbrella, heavy bag alomost making me bend backwards, phone in the hand getting wet, waiting for the auto to wait to escort me to the silver valley( Chandi Vali).. 10 mins, 15 mins,,25,, 35,,50mins the patience level checked to the maximum. nevermind i have just come back from raipur a religious trip which inculcated in me the quality of being patient and more patient. i started walking towards home (still raining) annoyed, frustrated and cursing the mumbai autowala s as they refuse to help u i still don know why? Prayers in the mind and just wished an angel would just swing her wand and the auto would stop right next to me to take me home.. But life isnt that easy i had to keep walking for long then suddenly i See some thing huge in red coming my way, nothing scary its the Mumbai bus service popularly known as "Best" but now the happpinesss was not in just finding the bus but to make sure that it was " the " bust hat would take me to my destination..I just walked 2 steps back to see what was the number imprinted on the small corner of the bus and to mu luck it was 421 the bus that drops me home...The happiness has no bounds and the magic wand did come its way..getting into the bus was a sigh of relief but what next..No place to sit , people in front of me smellling of some alcohol, men all around barring the 2 seats in the front especially reserved for the "priveledged class' called the ladies..However after a while i did get a seat but along with that a punch on my eye by the person who just got up to give me that seat and to my surprise he said sorry..i sat and again felt pain on my toes and just realised that some one stepped.. god the anoyance was at the highest level and any confrontation at that moment would have made my finger fold into a puch to hit badly on the face to make sure that the anger is cooled.. after all this jostling and so called joy ride i was dropped to the bus station to walk back home... here i enter Fiorello , feeling glad in the assurance that i atleast "reached' home today. The green salwar kameez with the matching footwear were all wet, the shoulders tired under the burden of the laptop and the mind fucked due to the extraordinary trip that just followed..The lift just arrived and the eyes filled with tear on the verge of wetting my cheeks but that doesnt matter coz if it wanst for these kind events the blog would not have been born at the first place...