Traffic Jam

It’s Friday evening, a liberating moment after four long chastising sunsets. Saturdays and Sundays come rather quickly these days, since I have become an “IT Professional”, (though I am yet to inherit any traits of a professional or knowledge of IT).

Raindrops are crashing against my window pane, like little soldiers, fighting with a futile motive, dying a futile death. Their innocent yet brave effort, if noticed properly, can bring smile to the gravest of faces.

In the dim lit aisle of my bus…Cole Porter is singing “let’s do it, let’s fall in love”..exclusively for me (in my earplugs of course!)

And that’s why birds do it, bees do it
Even educated fleas do it
Let’s do it, let’s fall in love

Cold Cape Cod clams, ‘gainst their wish, do it
Even lazy jellyfish do it
Let’s do it, let’s fall in love

The traffic has not crawled for some time now. It might  be another 2 hours perhaps, before I am home. Its hardly 7 miles of distance. Of course, I will be home sometime and will eat my cold, generic dinner.

So much is happening. But somehow I feel oblivion to everything. I am not exactly in my bus right now. Not so much.

Here I am, somewhere between Pages 220-225 of “One hundred years of solitude” by Gabriel Garcia, sitting with Ursula, the matriarch of the legendary Buendia family, in their giant courtyard, listening to the whistle of the first train in Macondo, the yellow one, being brought by the Aureliano Tristes.

Ursula, now more than a 100 years old, is serving me tea in her new china which Fernanda brought from her house.Caribbean tea tastes pretty much like the one in India. Her eyes full of past years, have this glee of a young kid. She is as excited to witness the moving monster they call train as anyone else in Macondo. Even I can’t wait. Not just for the train but for the rest of the pages.

I wish the traffic jam stays for a while…



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