TWENTY MINUTES

Every day, the wait for the bus was longer than the time taken for the journey. Still after a long day, one didn't mind the wait at the small bus stop. The place swarmed with school children who intruded into the office compound nearby plucking gooseberries and rose apples from the trees there. The crowd would diminish slowly with every passing bus.

Her bus was usually late and when it came, there would be a scuttle with around twenty kids with their bags running to board the red and yellow colored battered Tata vehicle. Once inside, the other feat was to find a breathing space with a firm foothold for the next twenty minutes. The bus would reach a stop every three minutes and one had to bend and budge to allow the messy maneuvering little passengers get down the bus.

It was during one such journey that she caught a pair of eyes that remained fixed on her. He was on a window seat, comfortably sitting and staring at her. She could feel the rush of blood to her face while she turned her gaze to the passing greenery outside. The surging annoyance, which she gulped down, did not stop her from stealing a furtive glance at him before getting down from the steaming bus. He was there at the same place; his gaze still unaltered.

The next day, before boarding the bus her eyes scanned the windows. She found him again, at the same place. His eyes found her too as soon as she climbed on to the bus. This time she was more embarrassed than annoyed. She tried to hold her face away from his gaze to satisfy her wounded modesty. He seemed to be unaware of the trembling of her heart because his eyes remained fixed on her face as in a trance. She could turn herself around and deny him the sight he obviously longed for; she did not do it.

She discovered that a little bit of kohl on the eyes and a deep red bindi added to her beauty. Her hair was long and touched her waist. She rolled the small locks around her broad forehead with her fingers. She replaced the gold bangles on her hand with colourful glass bangles. Every time before boarding the bus she adjusted her beautifully plaited hair; which often drew admiring eyes.

The twenty minute-long silent affair continued every day except a few occasions when the red and yellow bus missed the date. His eyes held her as if in a spell. She held her most elegant poise that the moving and swaying bus permitted.

Days and weeks his eyes pursued her in the bus relentlessly. One day, while climbing on to the bus, she felt the warmth of trailing eyes missing. She noticed that he was there on the same seat but was not looking at her. His eyes were focused down at an open book in his hand. She wondered what there was in the book that had caught his persistent eye. She stood there glancing stealthily now and then at him to catch his glance. Twenty minutes and he never looked at her. The story was the same the following day. His impassive eyes seemed to be locked on to a page in the book in his hand.

Slowly, she realized that some other thing of beauty had seized the day dreamer’s eye. She smiled to herself. She felt liberated like a model released after the painter finished his portrait. She stepped down the bus with her open hair fluttering in the evening breeze. The smile lingered on her face as she was walking down her path home, oblivious to many other pairs of fascinated eyes staring at her.