November 3, Mumbai - Pune Expressway
It’s a lonely ride, and quite a long one too. The bus driver just turned the lights off. It’s getting dark outside and the queen of the night has begun to imbibe all the subtle colours of the dusk into herself. It is around half past six and the sun has almost gone down. The sky is haphazardly gloomy. The breeze outside is cool. The winter, evidently, is gradually setting in. The mountains are obscuring my view of the skyline. The trees appear black, as do the mountains, as does the road ahead of us. My hair is getting all messy as the wind is getting all wild, and honestly, I don't like it too much. A few small houses have their lamps lit, both inside and outside. It's Diwali and I must admit some folk have pretty odd selections when it comes to the colours and patterns of miniature bulbs they chose to deck their houses with.
A lonely giant tree we just passed by looks like a pencil sketch against faint leftovers of orange and purple and grey at the horizon. Nature can be so beautiful if you notice it patiently. We're racing past all the inanimate wonders and yet there is so much to see. Keeping the condition of this bus in mind, I’m just hoping it doesn't break down midway. Having left a city behind, and being miles apart from our destination, everything is hidden in a vast veil. All I can see is the back-light of vehicles before us, and an occasional bunch of white dots from tiny villages we pass by.
One mountain here is lit up with golden goblets all the way till the temple at the summit. The path is zig-zag and in its disfigured course lies its innocent awe. Hmm, the festival of lights they call it. Sure thing. As my eyes lay fixed on it, bound in the spell of its charm, we made way through a tunnel. Suddenly it’s just too bright, with these dozens of bulbs illuminating the sky of this hole.
It’s getting colder. The passenger beside me is off to sleep. I pulled across my window. And now i'm staring into the nothingness inside and outside the tinted glass. The music feels a little louder with the rattling of this good old bus forced to stay at the other side of my shut window. And well, what do you know, my favorite song begins to play on my iPod, and i'm thinking, hell yeah, life's good. A cup of hot coffee, and it'd be downright perfect.
