Life is a little like getting on a bus with loads of passengers who are already on when you get on. A bus to nowhere but going with absolute certainty to nowhere or so it seems to you. And, you somehow secure a seat and think as long as you sit quietly, you might be allowed to stay till the destination, whatever it may be. You wonder if you could buy a more secure seat if you become the life and soul of the bus, since then nobody will want you to get off. So, you try.
There are people you like on the bus, some you cannot bear to be around with. People keep getting on. The bus is overcrowded. You watch some who gracefully get down, some who literally jump off the running bus and others who are abruptly forced off the bus. You feel sorry for those who have been forced off, happy you are still there. You must be special then for that privilege.
You sit there thinking if you are quiet and decent, and minding your business or counting your beads, you should be okay, not realizing that you could be the next. There is deep down a fear that you could be, but you hope that all what you had done since you got on would guarantee a longer passage to nowhere. Maybe, to a better destination?
Where could the bus be going? Who will be getting off next? Will it be you? What is this strange journey with passengers you cannot choose, stops you cannot decide and destination unknown. Suddenly you cannot bear this torture anymore. This meaningless journey with atrocious company to nowhere.
And, you sit there in this tumbling, roller coaster ride, hanging onto dear life and swear to yourself that you will enjoy the journey while it lasts. Amidst it all, the question arises... who am I who is sitting here on the bus on a ride to nowhere?
And, you sit there... waiting, pretending, dreaming,
smiling, laughing... living a little, dying a little, hoping your stop
is not the next and wondering what if it is.
- Srividya Srinivasan