The Bus Ride Theory

‘It’s a bus ride, dear’, said Viv. We were sitting in front of the fax machine, looking out a window where we can see carelessly plotted setinggan houses down below. The spot where we were was secluded from everyone in the office, a tiny spot where we sit to find perspective.

‘It’s a bloody bus ride. You never know when the bus will come, who the driver will be and what the destination is. The only thing definite is that, we have to pay for the ticket upon entering the bus’.

Yes. We have to pay and it’s not refundable.

‘Heck, then what if we like the driver but the ride ain’t good? What if the bus is accident-prone, would we still wanna ride it? And the destination-that’s a different story altogether. Besides, what if you came on the bus not because of the destination? What if you just want the ride?’ I said, staring at a bunch of kids playing footie in the humble space in front of their setinggan houses.

‘Yeah, can the driver guarantee a safe trip? A trip we really want?’ Viv’s reply was echoed by the beeping of the fax machine, telling us it got the document through.

And with that, we went back to our seats. Five minutes of sitting in front of the machine, we gained perspective, and a theory to be put to test for the rest of our lives.

Now that theory finds its place in my current situation.

I’m in pain. I cannot pretend that I am not. I have been through this road before, it is all very familiar. Sometimes, just sometimes, I think of why God is putting me on this winding road again and again when I know what the destination would be. Maybe there was something I missed the last time I passed this road. Maybe I left something behind; maybe God just wants me to ride on the bus, to while time away. Maybe the bus ride is better than being at the bus stop, unprotected from the rain.

Like a bus ride, I have been through bumps along the road. I have been to destinations where I crave being home with myself; also destinations that make me forget who I am.

Now I find myself at the bus stop again, after a ride. Like every other bus rides, this one gives another lesson.

The lesson is-Remember that every bus has a bell.

When the bus driver is charming but when he asks you to ride with him to keep him company because he was sleepy and needed a friend to keep him awake for a ride around town, you can opt to stay and be his company to ensure he has a safe trip. But if you opt to get to a destination with him when all he wants is a company for a town ride, remember, there is always bell you can press, to get down at the next stop. When you step down, say goodbye, pray he’ll be well and hope that he will only receive good things in life.

And what happens to you? Well, you will be at the stop again. Who cares if you’re not protected from the rain?

The next time a bus arrives; do not hop right in-think again and again, whether the ride is worth the fee you pay, and whether you want to hop in for the ride, the driver or the destination.

All this carried me back to that five minutes with Viv, in front of the fax machine, sitting on blue chairs and staring at the setinggan houses’ rusted rooftops, looking for answers.