Bus. Stop.

Syed-bhai, BEST bus driver par excellence, one of a rare breed who doesn’t typically let such things happen, experiences a sudden, momentary loss of focus. The startled passengers in his Worli Naka bus take it in their stride.

The sudden, insistent, and unexpected ringing of the conductor’s bell unnerved him. The tension built up over the course of a long, overtime-ridden shift bubbled to the surface. The chafing irritation of the intruding flowers, garlands, and plantain leaves, left over from the previous shift, finally took its toll. The bus lurched, the horn honked needlessly, distraction crept in, and focus got lost momentarily. 

Ismail Khalid Mohammad Syed Safarwallah or Syed-bhai, as he was familiarly known to a vast coterie of his relatives, friends, well-wishers, and acquaintances, was otherwise an extraordinary and exemplary bus driver. May his tribe continue to thrive and increase. Inshallah! He had passed the driving test first time with full marks. Hamidullah! And there had been no need for money to change hands. Mashallah! 

Usually, his acceleration remained smooth, his double-clutching precise, his two-step shifting of gears clash-free, and his honking of the horn patient, polite, and unhurried. Syed-bhai squeezed a double-decker out of tight spots that stymied diesel Toyota Innovas and CNG taxis alike. The plunging waistlines and roving eyes behind him never took away his attention from what lay ahead. He always worked with his conductors to keep moving along on time. The passengers always reached their destination safe, if not sound, the bus always pulled into the terminal just in time for his lunch or dinner break, which was welcomed by the satisfied sigh of the air brakes. 

What happened just now was not the norm.