Once every month or so, I like to go for unplanned bus rides. I just carry a book in my hand and walk away. To where, I don’t care and decide only when I reach a bus stop.
I've always enjoyed travelling in buses. My only criteria are window seat, where I can put my elbow outside and feel the air. Earlier, I used to go to school in a matador, which had a very few windows. I never got a chance to sit on my favourite seat. So, when the matador was replaced by a bigger bus, my father agreed to pay the increased fare only if I was given a window seat.
I remember my first unplanned bus ride in Mumbai. I was listening to music, and was so lost in thoughts that I travelled all the way until the conductor demanded everyone to get down at the “last stop”! I never paid for the extra distance.
Once, my flatmate, Badal, as lazy he is, slept in a local train on his way back home and crossed three extra stations. Hurryingly, he got down on the next station to catch a train back home. After some forty odd minutes, he opened his eyes realizing that he has again fallen asleep and missed his station. Finally settling on a train completely packed, which had no room for his eyes to relax, he reached home. He as well, never paid for the extra distance.
My unplanned trip would start with, looking for an empty bus, on which I see chances to secure a window seat. The destination or the route didn't matter. For the first few times, it would upset me when bus conductor demanded a destination but later I discovered the best way to avoid such awkwardness is to ask for a ticket to “last stop”.
Through these unplanned trips, I’ve seen most of Mumbai. From the most beautiful, to the ugliest part of it; the most expensive, to the cheapest part of it; the red light areas, to the sacred temples; dirtiest slums to the most sophisticated bungalows; rocky mountains to the sandy beaches. Some of the places I remember, some I don’t. Although, with time I've started to recognize places. I remember going to Borivali, the other day to Bandra, to Marnie Drive, to New Bombay, to Goregaon. It’s true that each place seems like a complete different city in itself. But all these places have one thing in common, the rush! It flows through every boulevard of Mumbai, I suppose.
On my last unplanned ride, to Versova beach, I ended up riding a horse named “Badal”. Having heard the local train experience of my flatmate, I only wished for the horse to stay awake during the ride. Horses can sleep while standing, you see.