I Am Sorry Ma'am

My office is 17Km from my house, so I take the office bus to and fro. Since its on highway, it just takes 30 minutes.

Office buses are usually reliable and comfortable unless there are traffic jams. Occasionally, they are dangerous too, when driver is either drunk, or is a Schumacher incarnate.

My activity on bus includes reading a book or a magazine, or taking a short wink. If I am doing neither, my mind is into dreaming serious, fantastical issues like - when would I be a millionaire, or what would it feel like kicking Sehwag at his butt. Stuff like that give me temporary pleasure.

However, the only part I detest of the whole trip is when I try to get down near my home during the return trip, though, no problem getting down near the office because the bus comes to a halt before I alight.

But in the evenings, one has to move towards the driver's cabin to convince him to stop. While the driver is in acceleration & deceleration mode, it get extremely difficult for a flat footed person like me to keep the balance, more so when one has a bag precariously slouched over a shoulder, threatening to come down.

At this time, hands come to rescue. They try to grope the side seats, the top rods - whatever they can. But hands have a mind of their own, and in the given situation they too get out of control. Some times they land up at someone's hair, at other time they might give a backhanded mini slap to people.

Since this is generally painless, if receiving person is male, they do not mind but females, predictably, do give some sign of discomfort. However, my blushing face and profusely sorry expression usually convinces them of my honesty.

But not this time. That day, a lady was walking in front of me, and there was a person behind me too. I was totally cramped for space, and since the bus was decelerating pretty fast, my strides were slightly longer than intended.

So my shoe hit the bottom of her sandle. She ignored. To my horror, it hit her sandle again. Twice again. She tried to turn back and confront me in the bus it self, but then she gave away the idea because she might have fallen down.

The moment she landed on terra firma, she gave me such a noli me tangere look that I thought she was about take out those sandles and hit me. I was a bit embarrassed, but the scene was averted. Since it was between the two of us, nobody else noticed.

Thinking about the legal and social consequences of that event later in the day, I was slightly perplexed. By hitting her sandal thrice, by no means I had outraged her modesty. I had done far worse things than that as I have mentioned above.

Also, she should have understood that this was totally unintentional. The only logical solution I could think out was probably she was angered that I might have damaged to her costly sandles. By experience, I can say that these things don't come cheap.

If that's not so, then she has an overrated notion about her beauty, and a perverse notion about my integrity. Whatever, the case may be, I am sorry ma'am.