I was on my way back from office one horrible day, not that there was anything ghastly about the day, it's just that my having to go to work, overwhelms all other emotions and paints the day grey in my head.(you will have to excuse me, I don't know what I write)
I was the first to get into the bus as usual, being the loner that I am I make it a point to reach early and sit in the last row which is usually empty as I don't want to have to deal with those "minions of society" as I prefer to call most people. As I sat I wondered, why does this job do this to me ? and I thought of those guys who have it all in life say, a good job, a pretty babe at their sides, etc...
I felt miserable, just then a man entered the bus. He seemed highly tentative and scared, I for the life of it could not make out why. I suddenly realised that he might be some random guy who doesn't know this is a private bus and I was about to ask him to get out.
And that is when he killed me. I literally died that day!
That poor, poor man, even now, when I remember the melancholy on his face, the uncertainty with which he approached the seats near me, and the sincerity of his presence makes me thank the fact that I am so well off. I wanted to help the man, but did not know how. The fact that no one was there to supervise over him, and yet he did his job with the honor and determination of a soldier martyring himself on purpose, all for a few measly bucks which did not justify the nature of his job, twisted my soul even further.
He was cleaning the seats using a cloth, all so that we would not, have to deal with the dust ourselves or accidentally sit on the dusty seats. I am sure that the pay he gets is peanuts compared to what we get, and yet we complain, and yet we complain[sic] about our "measly" salary.
When that man left the bus to go to the next one, he took with him my respect for the world and humanity as such. He showed me the ugly face of society.