A very long post about inspiration

I had taken to writing long time back as a way of expressing my emotions – how I view the world around me. The operative word is I. I had no inkling of others’ reaction/response to my thoughts. Whenever something caught my attention, I used to scribble it down in a book or any available piece of paper. Later at home, all these notes, scribblings found their way to an old unused diary which I guarded with all the zealousness of a Zulu warrior. It was not that I did not want to share this with anyone – just that I was not sure if anyone would even want to read it. I was going through the phase where I did not know where I belonged - acceptance was everything to me and I was not sure that I would be accepted by my peers if they glimpsed this side yours truly :) :( .

With passing years (and growing confidence), I did shed that outlook. However, the number of diaries grew in number. Maybe I just was not ready to share my thoughts with anyone, maybe I liked writing diaries………… :). This continued until one fine day, I ran out of diaries. Strange na, but true. I could have continued scribbling but lack of ‘proper documentation’ led me explore the other avenue that I had, namely (the one and only) Microsoft Word.

One day, one of the few times I was utterly bored, I forwarded one of my docs to some of my friends. The response was tremendous and extremely encouraging, with one of them - Sree - urging me to send more. They actually liked it !!

And thus, I started blogging. It has become a very good medium for me to not only express my thoughts but to meet people who actually share my thoughts. For a person who was written off as a specimen during her college days, it’s one big tryst with a variety of people.

Sharing the doc which I had posted long back (translation has been added for readers' benefit):

Traveling by our BMTC bus is a revelation in itself. For one, not all people tend to start nodding their heads (aka sleeping) the moment they settle themselves in their seats comfortably (does ring a bell?). The myriad colors, languages, people . . . . . . all these tend to soothe you into a world of your own – involved yet untouched.

Today was no different. I boarded the bus five minutes before its departure time, only to find that the only available seat was at the front. It is not that I do not like front seats. However, I must admit that it becomes the least favorable spot, once the bus gets crowded – people fighting for a spot to stand, bags and baggage, women carrying their children, expectant ladies, the old and the college-going – they all tend to focus their attention/ire on the people seated at the front. And just the fact that I am software engineer should not make me an exception to this rule, right?

With an inaudible sigh, I settled myself in the seat and mentally prepared for a long journey of heaving, shoving, leg-stamping, and what-not to Majestic. Several people boarded the bus in the next stop itself, most of them working-women whose sole aim in life, at that moment, seemed dumping their bags on the laps of the seated people. They do not even bother to ask our consent. What are we? Some dumping bin?? Sometimes I wonder how these people will be independent if they do not have the strength to carry their own loads !!

Here I was, already loaded with my purse, my lunch-dabba, and a bag containing a hefty book – a sitting duck in the front seat. I watched with dread for some purse/cover/bag/. . . to be thunked on my lap. No such event occurred. I blinked once or twice – I could not believe that I had been let off the hook so easily. Were these ladies feeling rightous? No no . . . . must be my lucky star(s) suddenly activated and shining brightly (ooppsss . . . . you need not be a Sherlock Holmes to figure out that I have been working too hard). I must have got up on the right side of the bus. . .err… I mean bed today.

The journey was uneventful – no minor altercations, no fights, and no stampede too. Wow . . . . . a first in 5 (or is it 10) years, since the time Bangalorewas hailed as THE IT city !! I was feeling at peace with the world and myself, when suddenly I spied two school-girls boarding the bus. Their bags surely outweighed both of them. The older one promptly plunked down her bag on the engine – she needed the use of both her hands to handle Schumacher’s driving. It was the younger girl who caught my attention. She was frail and delicate-looking. However, her looks belied her strength, required for carrying a bag almost twice her size.

I reached out and tapped her on her shoulder – “Yelli iLiyodu?” (Where are you getting down?)

Pat came the answer “OkaLipuram”.

It was not too far from the present bus-stop where the bus had lurched to a precarious stop. Still, I looked at the girl and wondered whether she would be able to survive the trip along with her bag.

So, in spite of my luggage, I offered “Bag kodu. Stop barovarege ittkoLtheene”. (Give me your bag. I will hold it till your stop)

She gave a shy (if not, a brilliant smile), which revealed a big gap-tooth and answered, “Paravagilla. Innenu stop bandu bidathe”. (Not necessary.The stop is not far off)

During this chit-chat, the rest of the spectators remained mute, except her elder sister, who gave an indulgent smile towards her sibling, and a grateful one towards me.

Finally, after overcoming several hurdles (including a ten-minute traffic jam, a cantankerous passenger who did not have change for Rs 500, a pack of street-dogs who took a sudden liking to our bus, an auto-driver who claimed that his dearest vehicle was nicked by our bus), we finally reached OkaLipuram. There was a mad rush to leave the bus. The girls were the last to leave. The younger one smiled a sweet smile with the words “Tata Akka. NaaLe sigona.” (Tata Didi. Meet you tomorrow)

She waved and she was gone.

The journey continued its course albeit with a difference – I actually began to enjoy it; she had made my day. Ya. . . . . we will surely meet tomorrow, if tomorrow comes.

Inspiration - I just have to view the world from a slightly different perspective to find it.