Baldy's Comb: Experience #2 - The Bus Ride

Part II - Roberta

‘Could you tell me when the next bus to Pushkar is’

I turned around and saw the female who was sitting all alone all this while. About 5”6’ tall, dark hair, athletic built, proper American accent and a backpack almost her own size – that was Roberta (as I’d learn later).

Me:’Umm…am really not sure…let’s get down and I’ll find out for you’

Roberta:’Ohh you would…ohh that’s soo sweet of you’

And then she did it…she brought together both her hands and started ’Namaste’ing me.

‘Thank you soo much..it’ll be a great favour’

Ohhk woman…stop…stop it right there. I am no backward, illiterate, ultra-religious Indian. Do not ‘Namaste’ me. I have yet not been able to fathom WHY I felt so strongly about what she did. It almost felt as if she was mocking my entire existence - mocking my education, mocking my fluency at speaking her language, mocking the hours I’d spent at Barista sipping Cappuccino, mocking the nights I’d slept listening to Floyd, mocking the ‘wassup’s’ I’ve used to greet my friends, mocking my 234 strong friend list on facebook - just mocking everything. In that one moment I wanted to shout out and tell her so many things – I wanted her to know that I hang out at pubs on Saturday nights and in café’s on others, that just like her I am not one to make ethical and religious issues out of short skirts, kissing in public and one night stands, that I have a hep friend circle that dopes, smokes pot and sleeps with multiple partners, that even I shop at malls and screw up my credit card limits, that I also watch friends, that even I use ‘fuck’, ‘whatever, and the middle finger when am at a loss of words (I was at a loss of words when this entire scene did happen…it was only later that I reflected on what made me mad…but at that time…I was just mad!!), that I write a freaking blog!– I don’t know why I wanted her to know all of this but I’ve narrowed down to two options.

1)It was either out of my sheer anger at her holding such a stereotypical view of all Indians…and daring to ‘Namaste’ me and saying thank you…how could she presume about me without even knowing who I am (that fact that she might have just been told by someone that this is what you do in India is something that didn’t seem like a possibility worth considering until wayyy after)

Or

2) I, just like a lot of Indians, wanted to prove myself to this westerner…this human being who is universally accepted to be ahead of and better than me because she comes from a more prosperous nation

Yup…you got it…it was not an either or…it was a combo of both these reasons.

Anyways, so I told her that it was ok and we stepped off the bus. By now I (and obviously she) was the center of attention. And as expected, as soon as we stepped off the bus -

‘Madam…Madam…pushkar madam…nice AC car…200 only madam…200 only for you madam..’ (these offers were interspersed with subdued cries of ‘kya maal hai’, ‘aaja meri gaadi main baith ja’ and ‘full service madam ji’)

Well this was precisely the reason I had offered to find her a bus to Pushkar. At 11 in the night…trying to find transportation to pushkar…alone…a westerner…NOT a good idea. In that respect, Rajasthan roadways was a much much safer (and cheaper) option

Me:’Nai chahiye bhai…koi gadi nai chahiye’

After repeating the same for 5 minutes, I was able to ward off all evil, but not without sly remarks about how I was trying to act smart with the ‘Angrez’ and screwing their potential earnings in the process (actually it was said with much brevity in Hindi – ‘akele hi lega ya humen bhi kamane dega’).

Apparently the next bus to pushkar was due to arrive in 10 mins. Hmm…so we need to make small talk now….ok

Me:’Hey, the bus is coming in another 10 mins. So I guess you’ve got to bear me a bit longer’

Roberta:’Ohh you don’t need to stay … you already have done soo much for me…I really can’t ask for more…pls don’t le t me keep you’ (btw…from now on assume that whenever she had to thank me…her Namaste pose – with proper head bent down n all han – was a continuous accompaniment)

Me:’No really…its ok … I don’t have much to do…and this isn’t a very safe hour to be at a bus stand. Not to mention that the time estimates given in India rarely hold so you will constantly need to recheck on the time of arrival and where the bus shall be parked’

Roberta (more vigorous Namaste and a pained/ indebted face): ‘ ohh how can I thank you…’

Me (you could start by not thanking me): ‘Well…so…tell me about your trip to India… Where all have you been…how long is the trip’

Roberta: ‘ Well the trip has just started…just spent a week in Rajasthan and Delhi…plan to go east and then south after this. I am here on a 75 day vacation’

WHAT!! Are you even allowed to use ’75 days’ and ‘vacation’ in the same sentence!!

Me:’75 days!! What do you do for a living…how did you manage to get such a long leave’

Roberta: ‘Well I used to work for this publishing house for 3.5 years…then due to the global recession…I got laid off…so I thought I have my savings…I should use them…and here I am!’

Ok..this conversation isn’t making any sense to me…are we from the same planet…is the end near…did she just say she got laid off and she used her savings to go on a 75 day India trip!!!!! I mean, tell me frankly, what would you have done? I would have: Taken the pink slip à gone to my atm and checked my bank balance à gone home and started working on my CV à cut down on petrol, movies and a few meals to ensure my savings last. My head drifted back to Mr. Anthropologist in the bus and how he would’ve evaluated this contrast in reactions…while Roberta continued speaking

‘ I had always heard about India from my father who had been in the Italian Embassy here and I soo wanted to visit…and I knew that in a job I would never get such a long vacation…so I took the chance’

Hold on…did she just say Italy

Me:’ Which country are you from again?’

Roberta:’ Italy’

Me:’ Wow…you have a perfect American accent’

Roberta:’Yea…I’ve lived in New York for 7 years’

Me:’Hmmm..no wonder…umm…am sorry…don’t think I caught your name’

Roberta:’Roberta’

Me: ‘So Roberta – you are on a 75 day trip to India…ALONE! – WOW’

I suddenly looked around us…and there were like 20 people gathered all around…staring us down. Typical Indians…huh

Me:’Hey…if you aren’t already…then get used to this…you will be flocked everywhere you go. I on the other hand…am new to this attention…’

Roberta:’Yea…I’ve noticed this…but why’

Me:’Maybe you are too good looking (yea I know…lame attempt)..maybe us Indian men are too desperate, maybe it’s reverse apartheid and they want you to be the brown man’s burden (I think this bounced over her head – and thank god for that)’

Roberta (having heard only the ‘desperate Indian men’ part):’ Yea…I know…this driver I had in Jaipur…the guy who took me around the city for 2 days…I think was a gigolo’

Ok that’s it…where is the Mars rover hiding...i mean… everytime we start having a decent conversation on similar planes of existence…she shoots off to another dimension and says something absolutely unfathomable…I mean …how on earth do you – ‘THINK someone is a gigolo’ – isn’t it an extremely rare profession which has a very clear and objective way of being identified!!

Me:’How the hell did you ‘think’ he was a gigolo’

Roberta:’Well…all the time he drove me around…every half an hour…he would keep asking me – “will we go back in the evening to your room and have sex” ‘

Houston we a ready for take off…please please call us back to mother earth!

Me:’WHAT!’ (you really expected me to say something intelligent)

Roberta: ‘Yea…n I kept telling him that noo…I am not here for that…I am here to see the country…but he just wouldn’t listen’

I really wanted to ask her…did she never consider LEAVING THE CAB and finding another one…did she never feel UNSAFE in this guy’s company… but apparently she didn’t….infact - turns out that she was trying her hand at understanding the guys psychology while he made his sexual expectations clear to her

Roberta:’I guess he must’ve met other westerners who come here just for that…he must’ve seen then get sloshed and then sleep around..that’s why he kept asking’

Roberta…darling…there are times when you don’t try and figure out why the gun is being pointed at you…you just run

Me:’Ohh gawd…he actually…he said…ohh shit man…how could you…didn’t you’ (I think I was able to beautifully and concisely capture the emotions and feelings I’ve expressed in the paragraph above)

Me:’Ohhk…that is freaky…I would’ve freaked out had I been in your place…btw…freaky reminds me…what brings you to Pushkar…and why can’t you spend the night in Ajmer and travel in the morning. Such urgency to get sloshed han’

Roberta (smiling):’No I don’t drink…I really like to keep fit…even while travelling…I just go to a city and walk…that’s it…no guide no nothing..,just start at 6am and walk’

Wow…just wow….I’d give an arm (I wanted to say an arm and a leg – but you shall soon realise why I couldn’t) to do that…go to a new place…with nothing to go back to…and walk!

Roberta: ’And I’ve given my word to someone in Pushkar and I want to keep it by getting there tonight…’

And another 10 people have started watching the show

Roberta: ‘I don’t understand…why do they keep looking…Indian women are soo beautiful’

Me:’Yea but they aren’t hot (another lame attempt I know…but the truth)’

Roberta:’I dunno…they have such good features…such amazing faces…every other one can be a celebrity back in hollywood’

Well I didn’t expect to get into an intellectual discussion on how beautiful, cute, pretty and hot are all different things…so I just nodded and agreed.

This entire conversation was, btw, interspersed with me checking for the bus and she checking if I wasn’t getting late and ‘Namaste’ing more vigorously with every negative reply from my end. So finally, at this juncture, the bus arrived and we started saying our goodbyes

Me:’I guess this is it…have an amazing journey…n keep safe’

Roberta (worshipping me like a God):’Thank you soooo much…I dunno how I can thank you…I would’ve been lost if not for you…you are my angel…I will PRAY FOR YOU TO RAMA’

Now you’ve done it

Me:’Umm..i don’t really believe in Rama’

Roberta:’Well then Ganesha’

Me:’Lets just say that I do not subscribe to the concept of a God’

Roberta:’Really…not even one’

Me:’Nop’

Roberta:’Well yeah…I understand…when I see a lot of misery and hurt and suffering around me…even I lose faith sometimes…but it is so comforting and so calming to pray in a temple or a church and just be at peace’

Well by then the bus had started to move….so we quickly shook hands…said our final goodbyes…I helped her board…and off she went…

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PS: - Nop…I didn’t ask for her number or email Id…you don’t feel the need to do that stuff when you’re in love