This is the story of yesteryears when TV meant a single channel, Doordarshan. Doordarshan ruled every house and that was the focal point of knowledge, entertainment and mythological stories. It was a period when a single house had a TV in a lane and everyone gathered to watch the episodes of programmes right from Krishidarshan to sports events. Our house was that centre for everyone to watch these episodes.
Like every teenage girl, I too had started dreaming big about my career in the media which was just getting popular. Unlike the present generation whose career path is defined right from the age of 8, we were directionless. There was neither professional guidance nor counselling. “Go along with the flow” was the mantra. After BSC, MSC was the only norm. Parents basically compared their children with other kids in the family and never tried to identify their potential. I had completed my BSC in Zoology and was waiting for the next step in my career. Marriage was not a priority because my mother was a person who instilled in us the importance of education. She couldn’t teach us but she opened the vistas of knowledge through books. Read! Study! Study! That was the slogan in our houses whereas now it is technology, development, fun, and enjoyment. We used to read even the paper which was used for packing things because there were no other distractions like Whatsapp or Facebook to get addicted to. Life was slowpaced without the fanfare or any other modern technological aids.
My BSC exams got over and ‘what next’ was the lingering thought. I had an inclination for English, and I was quite excited when I was selected for an entrance test for Mass communication and Journalism in Calicut University, a prestigious university in Kerala. To be frank, I did not have any idea of the test pattern or the format. Yet, with full enthusiasm, I decided to take a plunge and change my career path if possible. The test was in Calicut university premises: 120 Km away from our home and approximately a 6-hour bus journey. We never went for sightseeing – neither to places nearby nor abroad like the kids of the present generation. A trip so far, and especially when it was the first trip to a well-known university, was all the more exciting. Above all, outside food which was a rare luxury of those times, was an icing on the cake. My uncle accompanied me to this test even though he did not approve of my taking up the course.
The test was difficult as expected but I felt I could do justice. The huge campus and the lush green surroundings thrilled me. Mountains standing tall covered the campus and the white clouds added glory to the surroundings.
Many aspiring journalists dreamed of studying in this campus. I was exhilarated and felt confident that I would study on this amazing campus. My uncle paced around the campus finding it as interesting as watching paint dry.
We boarded the bus at 2 pm for the return journey and I got a comfortable seat. The buses had separate seats for ladies and gents. Women empowerment was not the talk of the town. The front door steps were for ladies to get on and get off and the back door for gents. The board on the bus showed that the final destination was my town. I looked beautiful, gorgeous with a pink Punjabi dress and glowing pink cheeks just like any other girl of that age. Youth in its prime! The long black lustrous hair was another compliment. I felt I was the centre of attraction in the bus and there was a sense of pride in me.
A short sojourn in the countryside and I was ready to relax. The bus in its journey through the winding roads and bumps made me drift off to sleep. I started dreaming and it was a dream of my career in Mass communication and journalism. My heroines were the newsreaders of the 1980s and 1990s: Salma Sultan, anchor of Doordarshan who delivered the news of assassination of Indira Gandhi; elegant newsreader Geetanjali Iyer; Rini Khanna with her special voice and clarity stole my heart. Usha Albuquerque was another person whom I looked up to in the journalism world. Prannoy Roy who was famous for his election analysis is always a person of mass appeal and he appealed to me more than anyone. I dreamt that I had taken up each one’s role which my subconscious mind was yearning for. The thought of my studies, my job and the bright future in the field of journalism was going through my mind and I was enjoying every minute of this.
The bus came to a grinding halt. It was pretty hot and I was forced to open my eyes. Traffic Jam! Traffic Jam! I peeped out of my window to find vehicles standing bumper to bumper. It seemed as if they were on the road for hours! Impatient passengers started looking out of the windows, but no one could identify the reason for the jam. Frustration crept in after half an hour and then some of them got off the bus to find out that there was a protest and the multitude had brought the traffic to a standstill. Time was ticking away and there was no scope for the bus to move even an inch. One hour, two hours and the people walked up and down. Unnecessary exchanges were the only distraction and people tried to do that as much as they could. A hefty fellow tried to befriend me, but I did not want my flow of thought to get disturbed. I was imagining myself reporting this news! The bus which was supposed to reach our destination by 6 or 6.30 pm was still on the road. My uncle and I glanced at each other. My shyness and my age did not allow me to roam in the bus or talk to anyone including my uncle. Finally, by dusk, the snarling vehicles started moving and the bus caught its pace.
It got pretty dark by 6 pm. The bus was moving at full speed. Most of the passengers were going the entire distance and the bus did not stop at small depots. The driver was hell bent on making up the lost time. Street lights were a rare commodity in these villages and there was nothing to see outside. The cool breeze was flowing gently touching my smooth face. Tired and bored, I sank into slumber again. I was basking in the glory of becoming a newsreader and the popularity that it was going to bring. Reality was nowhere in sight but I was dreaming big based on the exam I had just taken.
For every dream there is a culmination and my dreams were about to end like the Malarpodikkaranteswapnam pole. It was pitch dark outside when I opened my eyes. No sign of human life or light. There were only trees on both the sides. “Which route is this?” I thought. Suddenly I noticed that the bus was not travelling on the said route and it had crossed a junction of my town. My immediate reaction was to turn and look for my uncle, but I couldn’t find him. For a second, I couldn’t understand what was happening. I looked around and saw some of the passengers dozing on their seats. A shiver ran down my spine. Gripped with fear, I could not decide my next plan of action. The only material in my hand was the writing kit and some books. Carrying money was a taboo; only adults carried money.
There was wind outside and a whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. I did not have the guts to ask the bus driver to stop. With thoughts waging war in my mind, I was getting restless. Getting down at an unknown pitch dark place was beyond my capacity. I realized that the destination which I had noticed on the board was accurate but the bus was going 40 kms ahead to a popular place. My uncle was aware of the long route this bus was taking and he had got down near the junction. Boarding another bus from that junction was an easier way of reaching home. It dawned on me that he was under the impression that I knew the bus route.
He had taken the ticket to only this junction with this knowledge. As per the rule, he had got down from the rear door and he expected me to get down from the front door. The bus left immediately after he alighted. I was waiting for my final destination as written on the board.
Fear was creeping into each nerve and I couldn’t think of any solution. Looking around I saw the hefty man in his thirties walking up and down. He looked at each passenger and he glanced at me. His red eyes were staring at me and it was as if he knew there was something amiss. I checked my dress and I tried to correct my posture and make myself look calm and composed. In the meanwhile, I was thinking of the conductor whether he remembered my stop. In that case, I would have to pay a hefty fine for this. Weird thoughts and wild ideas were capturing me. Would the co-passengers understand my plight or would they take undue advantage of my situation? My brain stopped working; my mouth was dry and eyes moist. Fear and nervousness gripped me and I was nothing less than a statue.
The hefty man spoke to the conductor and this all the more frightened me. I was thinking of getting down after 40 kms and then take refuge at my aunt’s place which was near the bus stop. There was no question of me travelling again in that bus after that.
I thought of how worried my uncle must have been! Cell phones were unheard of at that time and so there was no question of communication between us. My attention was diverted again to the hefty man and the conductor. The driver too had joined their conversation. My blood froze and I was expecting the worst. Suddenly the bus stopped and the conductor came to me and asked me about my destination. I did not utter a word. The hefty man got down and went to the bus depot. I did not know his intention. I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew it was quite late in the evening but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. "Ten, nine, eight, seven. What was in their minds?” I could hear the sound of the watch ticking and my heart beating. I knew that there was every chance of me being asked to get down along with that man. And then! Couldn’t imagine! Or else pay the fine! Just then the conductor came and informed me that the man too had missed his stop and he had gone to inquire about the next bus which went in the other direction. He could understand my distress and was trying to help me while requesting the conductor and the driver to stop the bus at the next bus depot. He had had a conversation with my uncle during the traffic jam. It was then that I understood that they all had come to know that I had missed my stop. Humanity was a thriving force in those years and they were all thinking of a way out. Just imagine this situation in the present scenario!
At this juncture, my uncle came there in a cab. He got down and looked into the bus and he saw me sitting in a frozen state. The moment my uncle had realized that I had not got down, he had taken a cab and followed the bus. The bus was moving at such a high speed to make up for the lost time that it was impossible to overtake the bus till that point. There are times when your eyes and body can speak volumes. My uncle and I were in such a state and I alighted from the bus to follow him like a lamb. The hefty man was still knocking the depot door but he did not get any response. The conductor requested my uncle to take him along. We travelled back but none of us spoke a single word. Was it a lull before or after the storm?
My dreams remained dreams. To be a newsreader is what I long even now!
Jayasree Menon
Visiting Faculty
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