While travelling in DTC bus,i felt that someone is touching my pocket as i turned around.......complete the story in 100-150 words.
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I was returning from the office. It was 8:00 pm and traffic jams had started to take a toll on my patience. I was all sweating from head to toe. The only good thing about the evening was that I’d found a seat – a once-in-a-blue-moon affair as I usually have to come home standing and crushed by the crowd in the bus.
The bus halted at the Noida, Sector 11 traffic signal and waited for the red to turn green. The red light on the traffic signal post appeared like a bleeding wound not just to the post but to everybody who were longing to see it turn green soon. Sitting next to conductor, a fair wrinkle-faced gentleman in his fifties, I was wondering about the job of a bus conductor who happens to meet people of different types and temperaments every day. While some meet him with a smile, some sound so frustrated as if the conductor is responsible for all their problem
The bus halted at the Noida, Sector 11 traffic signal and waited for the red to turn green. The red light on the traffic signal post appeared like a bleeding wound not just to the post but to everybody who were longing to see it turn green soon. Sitting next to conductor, a fair wrinkle-faced gentleman in his fifties, I was wondering about the job of a bus conductor who happens to meet people of different types and temperaments every day. While some meet him with a smile, some sound so frustrated as if the conductor is responsible for all their problem
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