Thank God it's Friday

Aaah! the joys of travel. This weekend ended up being one of the most fullfiling ever. Funny I only noticed it when I sat down to write this blog. Maybe that's cos I'm still a part of it, though I'm back in office on a Monday morning. Hope it lasts.

I don't believe in Monday morning blues. Mondays can whizz past reminiscing about all the fun you had the previous day. A similar feeling can get you through tuesdays too. But come Wednesday, and you're bang in the middle of the week. Two days since your last fun binge and two days away from a fresh one. Life seems at it lowest on a wednesday morning.

But coming back to the weekend, I was off to Chennai. A last minute decision on friday evening found me running from pillar to post, looking for any means of getting me from Bangalore to Chennai, a distance of 360 Kilometers, as the crow flies.

YessBee travels came to my aid in the last minute. "Ess Saar" said the voice over the phone in a pronounced Malayalee accent. "Ve hawe jest one ticket left in the bus. Please come to Madivala by 10:30"

Madivala? That's beyond the back of beyond. It's one of those places you hear of, but never venture to. Like those vague horrible diseases you read about in the papers, but have never met anyone suffering from. Angiofollicular Lymphoid Hyperplasia, Lymphohistiocytosis, Hemophagocytic, Ramsay Hunt Auricular Syndrome. There are thousands more where that came from. A list of unending disorders and condition ranging from the unpronounceable to the unmentionable. Madivala's like that. Everyone can tell you where it is. But few have ventured there.

Anyway, since there was no time to dilly dally, I pack my backpack and look for an autorickshaw that will take me to Madivala.

You haven't felt rejection until you’ve been rejected by a Bangalore rickshaw driver. Nothing prepares you for the absolute rejection that he’s about to mete out to you.

Women might give you a reason for rejecting you, people at interviews may hem and haw but come up with an excuse, friends may try and put it to you gently. And thought you’ve been through “But we can be friends”, “Sorry but we think you’re overqualified for the job”, “Sorry dude, I’ve got to take my girlfriend to the movie” and “No! you may not borrow my car.”, nothing prepares you for the Bangalore rickshaw wallah.

You stand on the road and motion for a rickshaw to stop. One veers out of the traffic at the last moment, nearly missing the cyclist who now swears at him. He pulls over, next to you and cocks his head in your direction, all the while never once looking you in the eye.

You step up and say “Madiwala?” Suddenly the gear is engaged and the throttle pulled and the rickshaw peels off and joins the traffic, while you are left standing there wondering if you said something wrong. You’ve just been rejected. And that’s just the beginning. You invariably have to go through half a dozen of them before you finally find one who’s willing to take you. By that time, you are humbled. You meekly climb into the rickshaw, licking your emotional wounds and scheme at how to get back at him. Should you not tip him at all. Naw! Too cheap. How about overtipping him. That may make him a little less harder on the next unsuspecting traveler. So for the sake of mankind, you dig deep into your pocket and generously tip him. As you walk away, you turn back to see the look of surprise on his face. You expect him to look at you the way the children of Israel looked to Moses as he parted the Red Sea.

But you’re rejected again. He just pockets the change and drives off. The rejection is now complete.

Now that I have reached Madivala, I think I can rest easy. 'Have no fear YessBee is here!' I settle down with my ticket and wait for my iron steed to arrive. 2 hours later, I’m still waiting.

When finally the bus arrives, I’m told that my ticket was a temporary ticket, and I was supposed to get it confirmed at the booking office. But now it’s 12 a.m. and the office is shut. 200 bucks later, I have in my hands a confirmed ticket.

Completely exhausted, I climb into my bus seat and settle down. I shall be in Chennai at 7 in the morning. I think I life’s shown me all his cards. There are no more surprises left. The game has ended.

Just then life plays his last card. It come in the form of an extremely plump man whose ticket entitles him to sit on the same seat that my ticket entitles me to sit on.

What follows is a melee of sorts. An extremely agitated fat man with a high pitched voice trying to drown out the voice of a thin squat conductor with a voice like he has a couple of frogs mating in his throat.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m on the bus. This time in the cramped seat right in the back. I lean my head on my bag and turn the AC vent towards myself.

It’s going to be a very, very, very long night.