
People always ask me about the buses. I don’t know why. “Has the 13 been yet?” they’ll query with panicked eyes. “Excuse me love but has the 72 been cancelled?” they ask, pointing to my phone. Maybe I just look like I’ve belonged here for a while now.
This week an Indian lady appeared at the bus stop, dragging several bags for life behind her. “Oh no, has the X6 been past yet?”, she asked. I said no, it’s just been cancelled, and pointed at the board (side note: this was exactly 11:11 if you’re into numerology).
“Oh bugger, I’ll have to get the slow bus!” She laughed and immediately launched into conversation. We talked about her wedding anniversary, her birthday next week, the friend’s wedding she was getting henna for, how my hair colour matches both her kitchen and the bus company branding. And then, she almost made me cry by offering one of her handmade bhajis. She’d got up at 7am and made them fresh for a gathering with her friends. For a few minutes, I was her friend too.
That little 15 minutes chatting with a stranger and sharing food changed my day. And in times where the world wars against each other, it’s the little things that remind us we’re all humans. In the words of the late great Maya Angelou: We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.
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