Commuting by a Volvo bus in Bangalore

Yet again, my cab had changed and this would be the first day of commuting by the new cab. I had no clue what the next move of the transport department would be. Worried, I called up my cab mate from my area to check and confirm the whereabouts of the new driver. I did receive some assurance but on second thoughts, I decided to commute by a Volvo bus to office.

In Bangalore, Volvos are now pretty much a part of routine life of many office goers. On boarding a Volvo, you get a distinct feeling of peace till you disembark. If I have to take the Volvo, I do not mind the wait at the bus stop, the rush of the hoi – poloi (of which I am certainly a part) and the crankiness of speeding vehicles and speeding drivers.

Hoping to find a seat for myself, I boarded one such bus to Marathahalli. I did not quite realise that this was one jam-packed bus, teaming with people of all shapes, including the usual office goers, all rushing to reach on time. Since it was one of those general shift buses, this was to be expected. I pushed my way through to find myself some space to breath. The conductor shoved me to somewhere in the middle of the standing crowd. He shouted: footboard mele yaake nintirodu... olage banni!

It was difficult to view the outside or even who was in front of me, what with a midget height of 5 something… as expected, I felt quite dizzy!

I could do nothing since I was pinned among some large serious looking people. All I could do was to save my purse from being pick pocketed…well pick pockets can be everywhere you know, even among the decent crowds that travel by Volvos!

An apology or two here and there to someone else for stepping on someone else’s foot with a sheepish grin would make the co passengers provide a helpful hint as to whose foot it was that I had stepped on…then again with all this, as usual, some passing thoughts occurred to my mind: why do Indians bear so many children? What would happen to our country if the population increases at this rate? …and so I got lost in thoughts…

A sudden honk followed by a quick brake made the bus come to a crashing halt! It brought me out of my reverie. Apparently, two cars had collided in front of the bus and the owners (of those cars) were having an altercation over whose fault it was, making a whole line of vehicles behind us halt.

I could manage to see a policeman and some people making vain attempts to pacify the two men. The men seemed to go on with hurling insults and showing fisticuffs at each other. As if this was not enough, our driver too got down to do his bit of taming the car owners.
It was a typical Bangalore scenario.
Some passengers, now fed up of the confusion, were seen shifting uneasily. The ones that were sitting had better things to do. A young man to my left plugged-in earphones to listen to ‘his kind of music’ which, by the way, I saw was streaming from his mobile phone. Another man, a little older, seemed to be the cynosure of all eyes, with his Sam Pitroda type of beard. Most ladies in the bus, I noticed, took pleasure in throwing little glances in his direction making him fully aware of his triumph in the mustachio-make-do-mission! Two ladies on the right seemed to be happy with their incessant chatter, oblivious of the fact that the whole bus could easily hear what they were talking about. Incidentally, they were talking about how to stop pollution in Bangalore. I was tempted to tell them-- charity begins at home--- let us start with noise pollution!! A school boy on my extreme right, impatient by now, had started to consume food from his lunch box. There were others who seemed to be happy listening to the cacophony, with an occasional high-pitched Kannada song streaming from the FM radio that drowned the other noises in the bus. Some serious looking people in their envious last seats were by now fast asleep. They seemed to have an expression of---hell may break, but we cannot be woken up before our destinations!! A college goer near the entrance was trying his best to woo someone over the phone. In all, it seemed that reaching on time was not in everyone’s agenda right now. Everybody seemed to soak in the pleasures that came with Volvo buses—the AC, the chit-chats, the short naps, which by the way I call ‘snaps’ for a good reason; the oglings, the music, and the ‘et als’!!!


Time ran crazily and I was now getting the jitters. Will I reach on time? Something within me told me that I must disembark and start walking to office or catch an auto if possible. But I did not want to take chances just yet. I saw a few people in front of me clearing the passage. They were all getting down to walk or take other modes of transport from a little further from where the bus had halted. When the passage cleared, I realised I was in Agara. Good God, this means I am quite a distance from office now! The bus had halted in Agara for 20 minutes or so and by no means will move before a good 15 minutes.

After some time, exasperated, even the seated passengers began leaving the bus. The conductor told the two chatter-boxes to leave if they pleased, more out of irritation than anything else. The two ladies fretted and fumed and blurted something about inefficient transport system and eventually walked to the door. I had just been waiting for this! I am sure some might have even noticed a cunning smile on my face; I grabbed the seat and sighed in relief at having got a seat finally! I was too tired by now to show some courtesy to the old lady standing close to me.

Some 10 minutes later, the bus started to everyone’s relief. This was almost close to the time I had clocked! Those that had gone to sleep were jolted out of their slumber with the sudden jerk of the bus. Two of the sleepers looked puzzled. They were asking others if they had slept too long or if the bus had moved beyond their disembarking points.


A lady behind me had just been woken up by the conductor to pay the fare. Considering this to be a good opportunity, I asked the conductor how long it would take to reach me to Marathahalli. The conductor looked at me with an irritated and a stern expression on his face and said, ‘you are in a Volvo madam, not an ordinary bus.’ Taking cue and understanding the obvious puzzled expression on my face, he said, with a slight smile, ‘you are paying to reach faster than the other buses and we will try to make up for the lost time.’

I had a sigh of relief yet again.

When I reached Marathahalli, I realised, I had actually reached a little earlier than I thought. An autorickshaw couldn’t have taken me this fast. Besides, these days, the frequency of Volvo buses have also increased and are cheaper compared to autos.