The solitary conversation

Sanchita wrote :

Getting on the bus home with two other friends after a hard day at college was a relief. I chose to sit alone on the inside of the twin seats near the window. Looking out I saw a variety of people. From black to white, like colors. The sky was harsh yellow with the afternoon sun and possibility of rain was nil.

Just as the bus was about to pull out, a thin dingy figure came and sat next to me. She had the most remarkable features. Dark and crinkled hairs were falling out of her braided plait. And she wore black. Her eyes were hidden behind black sunshades and she clutched a navy blue bag. I had been strictly told not to start a conversation with a stranger so I kept my silence. I was startled when a deep voice said hello to me.

Regaining my composure (I had actually expected a squeak of a voice), I also responded. That initiated the conversation which was mostly from her side. Talking about what I was doing, to my hobbies and if I had ever been abroad, she asked every question that must have come to her mind. Now after a hard day of attending lectures I was in no mood for a conversation.

But her enthusiasm kept increasing. She kept talking and I listening. Now I am a sort of a person who has a wild imagination. She was clutching her bag tightly and the fact that she never took off her glasses scared me.

What if she was a terrorist and there is a bomb in her bag. I had almost half the mind to get of getting up and getting off the bus.

I still don't know what stopped me...

The conversation shifted to the cost of living abroad and its comparison to India . I showed interest at this and started telling her the positives and negatives of both living in India and abroad. And how I lived there and what I ate and all..

She sat there looking deeply interested and then she told me how it is her dream to go abroad, but she is assimilating money at the moment. Now my thoughts shifted to her character and my moral alarm went off. But thinking better I thought not to jump onto conclusions.

Most of the time she kept looking out of the window, but she never took her glasses off as if they were the most treasured piece of jewelry that she had ever owned. She also sat in an awkward position, something like a prenatal baby.

Thinking that she was scared of traveling alone, I offered her the inner seat which she gratefully accepted. The bus rolled by on the hot scorching streets of Delhi . The journey resumed its silence once more. I was thankful. My thoughts had already shifted to home and the lunch that awaited there. The assignments to be submitted...

You are beautiful she suddenly said. I was taken aback. I thanked her. No other words came to me.

I felt bad about ignoring her all this while. Going back on the entire conversation that I had with this stranger sitting next to me, I thought how one sided it had sounded. She never meant anything bad and maybe was just lonely.

The stop came and I and my friends got down the bus. Giving one last look, as the bus rolled by, I bade farewell to a stranger who called me beautiful.

Sanchita Sahay