calcutta buses

Buses in kolkata.

City buses in Calcutta, or Kolkata are mostly owned by private individuals. Whenever a regular, or a minibus says 'mayer aashirbaad' on the side (which means 'blessings of the mother') it usually means that the bus has been purchased with funds embezzled from some Durga Pujo budget (Ma Durga, of course being the Ma in question..). Well, coming to the topic of Calcutta buses. Calcutta, to begin with, is one of those few places I have been to where it is sunny enough so that you sweat copiously, while it is also raining. Don't ask me, I just live there. And when it rains, it bloody well pours.

Buses are put together rather shoddily. In fact, it is a miracle that many of them run. When it rains, the water dribbles into the side channels by the edges of the roof and splashes to the road. Theoretically. What actually happens is that some of it comes straight through those holes in the roof which have escaped the owner's eye (or in some cases,his wallet). Some of it comes through those channels mentioned, but by some peculiar magic involving surface tension and maybe quantum mechanical tunneling, finds its way into the face of the unfortunate bloke sitting in the last window seat. And of course, when it rains, the windows are shut. Which means you can't see where you are. And if you think you know how crowded a bus can get, you have no clue. I have traveled in buses where the pressure of people getting off at some stop just simply carries you inexorably towards the exit and off. Sometimes you are squished so tight that you are taken off your feet and simply hang suspended in midair between people. Right, so when the windows are closed, you have no idea where you are. So you strain to hear what the conductor is saying. And before you ask, no, we do not have those funky electronic devices in which a polite female voice says that you have arrived at North U and Fletcher.

May and June are particularly evil months. It is hot to the point that the tarmac on the road starts softening. Not kidding. I once spent a summer traveling to the BITM for a computer course. Gawd knows why. Not that I learned anything. Or maybe I did. Well, that is not the point. I hung on to the support rods near the roof when I couldn't get a seat. Which was most of the time. And the roof got soooo hot that the part of the heat transmitted itself to the support rod, which was, after all bolted to the roof. And part simply radiated off the roof. Inwards. With the net result that after riding in the bus a couple of times, my knuckles turned a peculiar shade of mostly black.. and the skin took on this leathery.. dead look. As if it had been burnt. Which, of course was exactly what happened.

Having said that, it is a miracle that the few million commuters actually get to work every day in the city. Creaking, bursting at its seams, forever on the verge of collapsing in utter chaos, the transport system in Calcutta manages. It makes very little sense to the uninitiated, but it is streamlined to maximum efficiency with minimum, and sometimes zero resources. And of course, everything has a reason. The autorickshaw line at Tollygunge stretches to pretty much half a kilometre at 7 pm on a weekday. And that is where a chaiwallah, a paan-beedi wallah finds takers. Somehow,it all makes sense.