Just like that an hour passed by!

Waiting at a bus stop:

I wait and the red BEST bus just zooms past. I watch the bus wheels blow up dust in air and the entire bus rocks through a ditch in the road. I observe 12 different faces, hands , legs, chappals, shoes, college bags, hair styles (oily, colored, bald head) just dangling at the door of the bus. Two people, one of them almost holding on to a back seat window and the other at the rod on the entry, giggling and cheerfully chatting while hanging (most of the body) in midair. I heave as I look at the passing bus, hoping the next one arrives in time and praying it’s less crowded. A little girl walks up to me with a bunch of bright yellow flowers, some petals of the flowers are faded to brownish yellow due to dust settling on them as the bus zoomed past. She asks, almost requests, then commands and nags me to buy them. While she pursues me to buy the flowers, she continues to flash her radiant smile at me. Salesmanship at its best. I realize I can’t break her heart so I buy one bright yellow flower and put it in my purse. My purse, hanging from my shoulder has a flower head poking out. She runs to her next customer while I wait for the bus. I watch a vegetable vendor walk by, calling out “Bhendi ghya, Vangi gya, taaji taaji bhaji ghya” (Buy Ladyfinger, Eggplant, buy fresh veggies). A kid runs from the building opposite the bus stop. He is running after a cricket ball that’s been hit by his friend hard enough to reach the main road. He athletically dodges the cars, rickshaws and scooters. One of our neighbors walks in my direction, the same one I waved bye as I headed to the office. She stops and chats of how crowded the buses and streets are, how her son seems to be constantly arguing these days (teenager ofcourse), how load shedding is just not fair, how the other neighbor next door fired Kamla bai (the maid) and how her next parlor appointment is due. Suddenly realizing she is running late to get to wherever she had to get to (which might be nowhere), she hurriedly leaves. I hear a kind of gunshot or maybe a fire work or is it a siren of a mill? And suddenly flock of pigeons fly in sky. Even between all the noise of cars, chattering, honks, shop keepers, kids screaming, crying, playing I hear the sound of their wings and look up. The blue sky background makes it a perfect picture which I take a moment to admire and then I look at my watch. Just like that an hour passed by.

Waiting at a red light:

Booksellers, flower sellers, balloon sellers, fruit sellers, all of them run to my car, one after another, each one has his/her sales strategy and persistence. There are those who approach with a cloth to clean the windshield, I nod to them, a serious no. Someone starts honking, everyone joins in. In the car on my right someone is playing a blaring latest Punjabi hit song, on my left in another car someone playing a blaring hip hop English one. I try to turn up the radio volume. The light turns green yet no one moves, 2 cars are stuck in the lane change kinda fight (you first or me first). The book, flower, balloon, fruit sellers gather around the cars, people start getting out of the cars and walking to watch what’s happening. There are those who are cracking jokes, those who are giving unwanted, unasked advice, those who are merely watching to kill time and those who are utterly annoyed. Some street dog tries to cross the road and someone from a Double Decker BEST bus throws left over bread at him. The dog stops to eat, no one passing by minds it. I hear a cop blow a whistle somewhere. I look at my watch and just like that an hour passed by.

Waiting at a clinic:

Me: Hello is Dr Desai in?
Front Desk+Nurse+Lab person (Same person playing multiple roles, let’s call him FDR): Chattering away on phone, totally ignoring me.
Me: Hello, Mr….Mr….sun rahe hai? Dr Desai is here or what?
FDR: Looks around as if some housefly buzzed by, picks up a file and just walks away.
Me: Well, I’ll just wait here (Sit next in line, after around 15 patients, all of whom are in pain and making weird sounds)
FDR (calling out loud): Yashodabai, Kon hai Yashodabai? Next, hai, Yashodabai.
Me: Looking around, someone runs to FDR, some man, so certainly not Yashodabai
FDR: Nahi nahi, aap nahi ja sakte (no no, you can't go first), Yashodabai is first, even if she left we have to wait for another 5 mins.
Me: (walks to the FDR) Hello I have an appointment with Dr Desai, can I go meet him now, its almost 10 mins past my appointment?
FDR: (Chewing on his mawa or pan) Kya chahiye, sab ka appointment hai, line mein baitho (What do you want? Everyone has an appointment, go sit in the waiting queue)
Me: I just want to submit these reports to him, can I leave the files and papers with someone?
FDR: Hmmmm, you can but no guarantee ok? That nurse (points at a nurse who is busy chatting with other 3 nurses) works with Dr Desai, lekin aadha time idhar udhar gossip she does (but half the time she gossips here and there) You can leave the file with her but if she gives it to someone, its gone. I can help you but I am so busy you see. I haven’t even had a cup of tea since morning.
Me: (Yeah right, you are extremely busy, I see that) I really need to get to work, and I have to get these papers to Dr Desai today. Can you help me, please?
FDR: Arey madem, please kaay? Ek cup chaha dya ki zhala. (Why you saying please madam, just give me a cup of tea and consider your work done)
Me: (Oh! Why didn’t I think of this earlier) Ok lets go to the canteen, I’ll buy you a cup of tea and batata vada too.
FDR: (Smiling happily) Ho chala…ek min…(Yeah works for me)....calls out Yashodabai….Yashodabai…(an old lady arrives)…bai kuthe hota tumhi? (Where were you?) Then FDR helps her go see the doctor and comes back in a blink.
FDR: Chala madam (Lets go)
Me: As I walk with him to the canteen, he nods and chats with several nurses, doctors, regular patients. This dude knows a lot of people I guess, quite resourceful. I buy him a cup of tea (cutting chai) and he completely refuses the batata vada. He then walks out of the room and calls someone by the name Hari.
FDR: Hari yeh baas (Hari, come sit down)

An old man in his 70’s slowly walks in the canteen and sits down, broom in one hand. FDR demands another empty glass from the waiter and pours half of tea from his cup in it. He then hands this cup to Hari. Hari smiles, his wrinkly face shining at the site of tea, wipes his sweat and thirstily sips the tea. FDR puts forth his hand for my file. I hand him the file and look at my watch and just like that an hour passed by.