Senses stimulated

It suddenly turned dark and cloudy . I had walked over on some work and as I was returning, it started to pour. Even if the distance from home was not much, as a BEST bus came up, thought it prudent to jump inside and escape the rain as I had not carried an umbrella. Only Rs.5 and possibly in my heart of heart, was hoping that the newly recruited Pratiksha Das would be at the wheel. No such luck – the driver was a dark, burly chap with a harassed look on his face.

I parked myself into a vacant aisle seat as the bus got caught in a massive traffic jam and was stationary even as the rain intensified. It was then, that all my, rather almost all my senses came to the fore. As the glass windows had been downed, I was sweating like a pig. This coupled with the amalgam of sweat smells from others and the putrid smell of wet clothes was nauseating, yet reassuring that my sense of smell was intact.

Now for the sense of sight – the lady next to me had her ear-plugs on and was watching some colourful disco dance sequence on her wide-screened mobile and the changing strobe-lights and colours were truly annoying. At least there was no sound, you would think! It was more than made up by the college-going youngster seated behind, who kept talking in a shrill, goth-pitches tone to goodness knows who, about how he answered questions superbly in class thereby making the lecturer absolve him of the blame for the pranks he and his gang played. He was so loud that not only the whole bus, his lecturer and even his Principal would have heard the monologue. Poor me covered my nostrils with my hands and wished I was Ravana so that I could cover my ears too. Only reassurance – sense of hearing intact.

If you thought that was the end of my woes, No. the sense of touch had to be felt and how. The bus was pretty crowded and this gentleman ( I am always polite) who was standing with a large briefcase ( yes, briefcase these days is an oddity) and a larger paunch, kept resting the latter on my right shoulder. A few pssts and a nasty look later, he tried to push back a little but alas- he was weighed down by his paunch and it was partly resting on my shoulder again.

The bus had not yet moved & was still stuck in the traffic jam. Disgusted, I got up, pushed my way through through the maze of wet clothes, bodies and odour and tumbled out of the bus. The rain was cool and soothing as I gingerly made my way over the small puddles towards home. My sixth sense had told me to carry an umbrella and in an act of bravado, I had brushed it aside and learnt that my four senses were fine. The sense of taste? Well I have always been a connoisseur