Overheard . . .

It is amazing the kind of stuff that one can experience and the things one can overhear during your everyday commute. One overheard cell phone conversation of a fellow commuter often can reveal enough dope for you to make a comfortable living through blackmail. While those kind of conversations are a bit rare, the kind that can be categorized under "entertaining" are very, very common. You just have to keep your ears open and show sufficient interest in the lives of fellow human beings.

A day back there was a very entertaining conversation that I overheard in a BEST bus. The guy on the seat behind me was talking on his cell phone to his "Sonu." Not that I wanted to overhear, but when you are in a crowded bus that's stuck in the heavy traffic at Andheri's Saki Naka, you take whatever entertainment comes your way with thanks. And the intensity, ardor, and the volume at which this guy was conversing with his Sonu, he didn't leave the others around him in that bus with much choice. Willingly or unwillingly we were the audience. Much of the conversation was quite absorbing, but I particularly remember two lines. They were of the kind that could break through all the noise (of the Saki Naka traffic) and lodge themselves firmly in your memory.

The first came just after the bus crossed Saki Naka:

I don't want yesterday's Sonu. I don't want today's Sonu. I want the Sonu of tomorrow. I want to be a part of my Sonu's future.

It took much discipline and will power to control the urge of turning around in my seat and getting an eyeful of the character who was mouthing such noble intentions.

He continued much in the same vein for another 30 minutes or so that it took the bus to make its way towards the last stop. As we all lined up to alight, he bested his previous effort:

It is not I who believes you, Sonu. It is my heartbeats that trust you.

I stumbled down the steps of the bus. I had tears in my eyes.