Strawberries On The Road
I use a cab service to commute from my office to home, in the evenings. The distance of 7 kilometers feels like 70, thanks to the notorious traffic on Bangalore roads. The waits at traffic signals make it feel like traveling to a different planet.
The travel is made worse by the ambiance inside the cabs. The body odor, of a million other passengers who occupied the seat before me, lingers and prods at my nostrils. My lungs try to exhale out all the dust, dirt, and toxic air that have found their way into my respiratory tract, from the streets of the second most polluted city in India. My intestine tries to somersault from the abdomen and jump out. Nausea is the only prominent feeling that I experience every day, during the adventure back home.
Despite all these internal revolts, my eyes shut down involuntarily. The body and mind sway gently to the hum of the vehicles around. Who would have thought that the sound of blaring horns could have a soothing effect on the eardrums? I drift into a distant land, in a fraction of a second. I chase butterflies and honey bees all around. The sound of the sparkling stream makes me want to sing aloud in joy. I open my mouth partly.
My reverie is interrupted by a knock at the window. I jump up in my seat, startled. It’s a strawberry vendor at the signal. He wants me to buy fresh, juicy strawberries. “From Mahabaleshwar!”, he says. He assures me that he is offering me the best price possible. I nod my head to indicate that I am not interested. He insists that I try a packet. I tell him politely that I do not want anything from him. He doesn’t go away. I am visibly annoyed.
A young lady on the bus next to me smiles faintly. I smile back sheepishly. The strawberry vendor leaves the place as the signal turns green, greatly unhappy about not meeting his target for the day. I get down at the bus station near the signal.
As the bus chugs ahead, I try to catch sight of the lady again. She turns back and flashes a smile. Her lips are red, like strawberries. As lovely as the ones from Mahabaleshwar. I wish I could freeze this moment.
The bus moves on. I sprint ahead to cast one last glance at her lovely smile and sparkling eyes. She looks at me and suddenly pops her head out of the window. She spits the contents of her mouth and wipes her lips with a handkerchief. I stand there motionless, staring at the red stain on the road, as the bus turns around the corner.
Here are a couple of articles that I read recently on medium, that touched a chord.
- A helpful post on “creating life clarity” by Alex Mathers — https://iamalexmathers.medium.com/member-only-story-f0836c064810
- A heart warming post on dealing with the ebbs and tides of life by 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓪 𝓒 — https://medium.com/know-thyself-heal-thyself/all-the-things-that-make-me-stronger-than-a-rock-495d70b9746a
