It plonked there in a little corner of the bus, seemingly out of place. As sturdy as it was, it could only see the things that it wasn't--colourful, flashy, stylish and most importantly, popular. After all, there was only one of its kind amidst a sea of the others. "But one of a kind is a good thing, isn't it"?, it thought, almost trying to convince itself of its worth.
Not far away, sat a group of people. None of them knew each other, yet there was a sense of familiarity forged by a commonness--smart phones, semi-western tops and stoles, polo tees, slim fit jeans, monthly bus passes, and backpacks on their laps. She sat in their midst obviously out of place, an old sari draped tightly around her to keep her from shivering in the cool a/c, no phone in hand, a bus ticket she could ill afford and her bag plonked at a distance.
As the bus slowed down at what seemed to be a major stop, almost everyone jumped off the bus and hurried to cross the road and reach their tech parks on time. She waited until they had all gotten down, picked up the dirty bag that contained her tools and walked in the direction of a construction site close by. It didn't matter if she showed up on time or not, she got jipped of her daily wages anyway.
Her only thought as she walked on was how she would make up the Rs 40 that she had blown up by taking the Volvo bus that day.
Not far away, sat a group of people. None of them knew each other, yet there was a sense of familiarity forged by a commonness--smart phones, semi-western tops and stoles, polo tees, slim fit jeans, monthly bus passes, and backpacks on their laps. She sat in their midst obviously out of place, an old sari draped tightly around her to keep her from shivering in the cool a/c, no phone in hand, a bus ticket she could ill afford and her bag plonked at a distance.
As the bus slowed down at what seemed to be a major stop, almost everyone jumped off the bus and hurried to cross the road and reach their tech parks on time. She waited until they had all gotten down, picked up the dirty bag that contained her tools and walked in the direction of a construction site close by. It didn't matter if she showed up on time or not, she got jipped of her daily wages anyway.
Her only thought as she walked on was how she would make up the Rs 40 that she had blown up by taking the Volvo bus that day.
1 comment:
Dichotomy is quite definitely one of my favorite words. Cellar door being another one.
I liked reading this.
I started WatStory(http://watstory.com/story/featured)earlier this year. It is a community for writing and reading. There is a good amount of short stories, poetry etc. on the platform already. The website itself has a minimalist interface, a good content editor for writing in English, Hindi and Bengali and no ads. Perhaps something this might interest you to write/read.
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