Bloody Monday!

Mondays are always bloody, even if its one's birthday. Mine wasn't a birthday, but it was the worst traveling day of my recent life. If ethics and morality didn't exist, I would have killed a dozen people today.

The chronology of incidents begins at 8.45 am. Happy Ketan, running behind bus No.210, excited to get it on time. He gets in and to his surprise, rather frustration, bus does not move. Later a few bus drivers from around the bus station come in and try to figure out something. Three of them climb up the second floor of the double-decker. One's carrying some tools, one of them is a screw driver. Watching that, I felt like "Screwing the bus driver". The scene resembled of three three year olds running up and down the bus playing with their toy screw-drivers. I heard them gossiping about the problem in spite of me having the earphones on. The problem was that, the destination board was not rolling to the desired number and destination.

Fifteen minutes pass and there's no progress. Taking advantage of the delay, a fat man tried to sleep on a seat behind the rear door, resting on the glass pane to his front. His obesity gave me a new puzzle to nozzle the rising frustration. Is he resting on the glass wall in front of him or on his tummy? His belly fat was partially flattened resting on the front glass pane. His neck was submerged deep into his fats, so much that if a doctor was to reach his spine, he'd have to dive in to get a hold. His tummy fat was resting on his thighs and the length reached his knees. I wondered how he seated.

The bus finally started and I reached Brent Cross station in 7 minutes. I ran up the station, wondering about the sign outside the station stating, "Underground", as the station was a floor above. I reached the platform and the train doors closed. That was such a coincidence of consecutive bad events. The next "Morden via Bank" was in 14 minutes, i.e 14 minutes late to office, one exclusively repeated question to answer, "Why late today?" This question is often asked with forehead wrinkles, partial smile showing envy, by the higher authorities. This is one thing why I don't like to work as an employee. There was no option other than waiting for the next train.

The train arrived in 14 minutes and I felt relieved to find a seat to relax. But it wasn't for long, as at the next station a small group of school kids came in to ruin my peace. They were accompanied by their school teacher, who was having a fake smile and eying my seat. I was trying to avoid any eye contact but being a young, healthy and fit I took a stand to offer the teacher my seat. She showed a staged smile until she sat and then didn't even bother to look back and later I got down the train wishing to have superpowers to turn mine and bosses watch 30 min back.

Reached office tensed, thinking about reasons for being late and then thought about writing it as an experience in my blog.