My Choice

Chapter 4

Oh, before you read, for those who don’t know, a manji is a bed-type cot thing. Google ‘manji bed,’ and it’ll come up.

Here's a pretty long one for you guys! :)

Chapter 4:

            Mumbai was warm. Warmer than San Francisco had been. I shrugged out of my jacket as we exited the airport with all of our luggage. I looked around, taking in the environment surrounding me while my dad talked to an airport personnel in attempts to figure out where to go from here. I watched the taxis in their line, waiting for passengers to make use of them, the drivers talking and laughing amongst each other. I looked around at the huge airport building and all of the technology that surrounded me, amazed at the fact that cities good be so modern and industrial while the villages only a few hours away had practically nothing of the sort.

My dad returned, and without a word to any of us, made his way to the bench about ten paces away. My mom followed immediately, and Akash and I were right behind her. We remained on the bench for ten minutes, not daring to ask a question, before my brother, always the impatient one, broke the silence.

“Papa, why are we just sitting here?” he asked.

“Waiting for the bus,” Dad answered.

Twenty minutes later, Akash questioned him again, “When will the bus get here?!”

“Soon,” was the reply, “Play on your Nintendo and keep quiet please.”

Akash did as he was told, and another half an hour passed in this manner before the bus finally pulled up a few feet away from us. By this time a line had formed near the bunch, and everyone rushed towards the bus, forming a mob of sorts at the entrance. I watched, shocked at their behavior, as people pushed one another to get onto the bus. We stood up and patiently waited at the back of the line for the scrambling people to get on. Ten people ahead of us, the bus driver closed the doors.

“The next bus will be here in an hour!” he yelled out his window before driving off.

A few of the people left behind cursed before and slowly made their way back towards the benches. My dad sat back down as well, and we all followed suit. I had never seen anything like that before. The busses back home never had this problem; there were always enough running to where one could take another bus five minutes later if the prior one was too full. I guess this was the first difference between this country and America of the many that I knew I would experience soon. I leaned back on the bench, intending to spend the next hour within my thoughts.

Forty-five minutes later my dad stood up and went to stand near the road. Guessing that he wanted to ensure that we were ahead of the line this time, I followed him, my mom and brother right next to me. And we stood there, the three of us slightly behind my dad, just waiting for the next fifteen minutes. Which turned into twenty minutes. Which turned into twenty-five. The bus was late. Finally, thirty-five minutes after we stood up, I heard the rumble of the bus. Feeling the push of the rush of people behind me, I struggled to keep my balance, knowing how awkward it would be if I crashed into my dad’s back. I firmly planted myself, waiting for the bus to pull up in front of us. It got closer. And closer. And it completely passed us by, stopping fifteen feet past us.

Not to be beaten, my dad rushed towards the bus, bypassing the crowd that had the same sentiment as him. A bit late to the task, the three of us got lost amongst the crowd, the feeling of being surrounded by so many people increasing the heat that was already largely prevalent in the atmosphere. I looked up to see my dad climb aboard the bus and turn around to look for us, leaning to the side a little so people could still get past him. He held out his hand, and I saw my mom grasp it, allowing him to pull her up onto the bus through the crowd. Her other hand had held tightly onto Akash’s hand this entire time, and he got pulled up with her. All of their luggage was thrown atop the roof of the bus, and I struggled to get past the crowd with the baggage I still held. Taking the risk, I lifted the carry-ons and threw them into the air towards the bus, hoping they’d land where I needed them to. I held my breath, watching as the two bags flew until finally landing safely within the racks, one of them barely making it in.