Friday, November 10, 2006

The view from the bus

The view from the bus is always an intriguing one. Bear in mind that it is the same journey everyday, and sameness is throttling to catch up with all the small objects of suggested inspiration that pass through the corner of my eye.
But some patches of contemplative fabric cannot be avoided without the elaborate involvement of the mind
And so here it is, the momentary glimpse into the world of the real deal.

The bus window, dusty as always with the absent sun’s rays making a path through the emancipation of voyeurism.
Traffic was slow and so I wished my watch would be. Lateness to school was imminent.

Parallel with the strolling motion of the bus, there she walked with the usual smile of curiosity missing from her pale face. A cigarette tightly clutched between her fingers with a jest of mindless smoke pouring from it.
Surprised she smoked, I looked away for a second into the opposite direction, only to find moments later, her tight-eyed (in a good way) glance, tantalising my very own curiosity.
Her freshly-appeared smile was accompanied by a ‘hi’ motion of her hand (the one which was also occupied with holding the cigarette).
I smile back, only to find the traffic’s abrupt shift to liquid-fast motion interfering with the desired mutual greeting.
So, this was the view from the bus. A pretty, intriguing and contradictive one.


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