The alarm rings right at 6:30 am. Yes, I admit that I had been ambitious; rather, I am ambitious. I still plan to see early morning some time and probably go for jogging with my iPod on…but right now, I don't have sports shoes (and I want that butt-trimming 4K Reebok ones only…can't deny myself the pleasure of having a nicely-shaped butt!) and my iPod has been hijacked by my brother. So inspite of all the right intention, the alarm rings and is then put to snooze. I snooze too. However, I simply imagine myself taking leeway of the first few minutes of the day; after all, a woman needs her time! The watch is not my friend. It crawls on to show 8:00…a sensation in the spine and all of a sudden, I am all senses. My dedicated bus mate, Maninder, sends a text, "Coming?" I do realize that the text message is not all drowned in care for me missing the bus and wasting another Rs. 70 on some godforsaken auto but in the anticipation of a negative reply that will make the bus take a simpler route and reach office a little ahead of time…I somehow don't understand this obsession while going to office…why would you want to reach early when you know you will still be staying back to finish work? Anyways, Maninder, my friend, doesn't manage to get a negative response. I reply, "Yes." At times, I add a smiley too, as if laughing at the pleasure of forcing a detour.

I rush to brush my teeth and take a quick bath. Drag some clothes out of the closet. Put them on hurriedly. Put on slippers…any pair available (which at times results in a green pair with a blue jeans and a black kurti). Lock the door. Realize that my dear cell phone is still in the room. Open the door. Pick up the phone. Lock the door again. Keep the keys in the bag. Climb stairs down. Rush toward the bus stop…almost there…Oh…there is the bus…Maninder's call…I disconnect (why waste dear friend's call when I am right behind the bus?)…and oh…oh…oh…the bus moves away! I have heard about albino elephants. Legend says they are to be worshipped. Don't know about the sanctity of the claim but I sure know that the ditcher of a bus looks like one big, fat, white elephant slowly moving away, having eaten two-legged ants alive. I sure don't feel like worshipping it.

It takes a few moments for me to realize just what happened. By the time I call up my dear friend Maninder, the bus has become the size of a dehydrated, malnourished elephant. Maninder says, "Oh, well, you didn't pick up my call, so we thought you might have changed your mind about taking the office bus." I mutter under my breath, "Oh, sure as hell I wish I could change my mind!" I show two beautiful, new ten-rupee notes to a young auto driver and he drops me near the elephant, er, bus. Rest of the journey is nondescript. The roads are all packed with cars (and I wonder that by the time I am finally ready with the money to buy a car, there might be just enough space in this city to run a self-driven bicycle! Sigh…sigh…). Like all my bus mates, I too close my eyes and ears and pretend that nothing but my imagination and the FM radio exists in the world, only to find myself faced with the main NIIT gate in a while. Time to roll, I tell myself. (to be continued…)