Philosophy Outside the Zone of Comfort
Dear Readers,
It is a disturbing truth that
despite a decade of residence in New Delhi, I never actually could travel to
most of the attractions within affordable reach of Delhi. This failure, I
realize, accrues mostly to my fear of stepping out of the zone of comfort. I
have always been an enthusiast and longed for adventure but never really dared
to compromise on comfort.
Never was I so fortunate to craft
stories of unplanned solo escapes into nowhere. My trips (the very few that I
have done around Delhi) have mostly been marinated with rigorous planning.
As my nature goes, the recent
trip to Punjab – like all other trips – was guided by the same check list.
Checking online availability of seats, filtering buses – first according to the
hour of departure that suits my sleep cycle, then in terms of the travel time
and finally making sure of not getting a seat number greater than 20 – I booked
a seat.
Himachal Roadways’ AC Volvo, Scania, pushback seater (to be precise) leaving to Kangra from ISBT Kashmeree Gate at 9:15 AM was supposed to drop me in Chandigarh on its way. Every minute thing was charted out and planned.
Himachal Roadways’ AC Volvo, Scania, pushback seater (to be precise) leaving to Kangra from ISBT Kashmeree Gate at 9:15 AM was supposed to drop me in Chandigarh on its way. Every minute thing was charted out and planned.
“Water bottle
shall be provided and only a pack of Nutri Choice is to be bought at the bus
terminus, mobile charging points shall be available on board, a Norflox TZ shall
be gulped prior to leaving to avoid unwanted circumstances; water was to be
sipped, not gulped to avoid untimely calls of nature”, I pledged to myself.
But life, you see, occasionally
fails to operate as planned!
Few minutes prior to departure
the scheduled bus did not turn up and was replaced by a normal AC
seater. I was immersed neck-deep in blues at the very first glance of the bus. Disheartened
and helpless, I pushed myself to the counter to ask for a quick refund of the
money paid online. Almost close to breaking down to tears, I called up my
friend Tejinder who was to wait for me at Chandigarh ISBT to declare, “bhai
naa ho payega, bus got cancelled’.
After some persuasion Tj
succeeded in pushing my feet to the Haryana Roadways’ counter nearby at whose
disposal was lined up a rickety bus preparing for departure. The conductor, in
his khakee, screamed breathlessly (Chandigarh 17, Chandigarh 17) while
failing to gain any considerable attention from those lingering around. Painted
in light-blue and white strips with Haryana Raajyik Parivahan inscribed
in blue over the white patch, the bus stood dead-still with all windows wide
open to the morning rays of the September sun. Painted, or may be pasted on the
body were advertisements of government schemes which I did not even bother to
read for I was more than sure not to board this shit of a thing in all ways.
My reluctance to board the bus however was shattered
the moment I exchanged my first hesitant greeting with the screaming conductor.
Just out of frustration with
absolutely no concern whatsoever I randomly asked.
“Bhaiya kitni der mei chalegi”?
(Brother, in how much time will you leave?)
In his most arrogant-in-appearance but
hospital-in-context tone he replied,
“Challan laagri bhai, bass
tera intezaar tha” (All set to leave bro, just waiting for you)
“My God!”
“So much care! Just for me?” I
thought.
A stream of extraordinary exceptionalism
rushed unconsciously across my psyche the moment I internalized the statement
of the conductor who for me was a total rejection till few moments ago. Bound
by the spell of utmost hospitality (which I took at face value) I never realized
how my feet pulled me on board this otherwise unacceptable bus.
To my delight, by the end of the
hectic journey six and a half hours later I found this extraordinary experience,
beyond the clutches of reluctance, to be jubilating in all ways. It was then
that I realized that outside the zone of comfort there is life, there is
philosophy. And the best part being – all this is on offer at a price very
meager. At an amount abnormally lower than what one is charged for the monotony
of the air conditioned Volvo cabin.
The Haryana Roadways’ 3x2,
all-windows-open, noisy bus ride to Chandigarh gave me a lot to ponder upon.
First thing first, this ride was
an opportunity to walk over my identity and transgress the constraints attached
to various sets of socially constructed identities bestowed upon us humans.
With the necessary change for the
ticket on one hand and my AADHAR card on the other – as has been the norm
during all my previous trips – I waited for the conductor. To my surprise,
unlike on all my previous trips, the gentleman this time did not bother to ask
for the proof of my identity. And for that matter he bothered not to ask for
the same from anyone on board.
It was then that I realized that
for the journey that is to be, I, among the other 40 passengers on board was to
be ‘no one’ or may be ‘anyone’. I was enchanted for I realized that for the
coming six hours I was no more a PhD scholar, a blogger, a middle-class Brahmin
and for that matter not even Uddipta may be. And as it goes, I was emancipated
of all chains that otherwise ties me down. I could raise my leg and sit on my
haunches on the seat without bothering about the sophisticated gaze of those
around me. I could rub my shoulder with that of the one next to me who too is a
human beyond any social identity during the journey while the sweat on the rubbing
sleeves of our shirts would merge to one as the beating summer afternoon steams
up the non air-conditioned cabin.
Second, I realized the absence of
private ownership of space on board. With no pre-allotted seat number to any of
the passengers, the bus accords the deserved respect to punctuality. Unlike
selecting your seat online and boarding the bus at your own convenience, the
only necessary merit to own a seat of preference on this bus is a respect for
time and a sense of responsibility. I appreciated this while recalling my last
trip wherein I had boarded a 10:00 PM bus to Rishikesh at 9:30 to still sit on
my allotted seat 19, while another gentleman boarding at 9:56 could comfortably
sit on his allotted seat 8.
I am thankful to Haryana Roadways
for this emancipating journey while being equally thankful to Himachal Roadways
for the cancelled Volvo.
If you like what you read do
share, subscribe and keep coming back. That inspires me to keep writing.
Yours
Uddipta Ranjan
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