Ok. For once my title will actually be directly linkable to the rest of the post. Though I do dislike bowing down to conventionality. Well, needs must and so on. This post is about a fascinating phenomenon that i have been in the lucky position to observe closely in the past few months on a daily basis.
i like to call it The Quivering Knife or new age nirvana in five easy-to-attain stages.
Yes the one and (unfortunately not) only, your friendly neighbourhood bus conductor. This species occurs in a variety of sizes, an assortment of shapes, ages and temperaments and can boast of the highest recorded levels of testosterone and general aggression in anything-that-lived-to-tell-the-tale. They can be divided into two seperate sub species; of the DTC and Private variety. The first are usually lackadaisical, not prone to movement, reluctant of speech, and adept at the art of expressing a bewildering array of emotions ranging from contempt to superciliousness with the mere twitch of an eyebrow (in less skilled members this can be accompanied by peering over the rims of their glasses to emphasize the point, but real masters disdain the use of any props beyond a clinking bag full of coins, which they will jingle at you if you prove an especially daft and unappreciative audience). Made somewhat in the Argus Filch mold (incidentally, reading the HBP right now and suffering from a serious case of sleep deprivation and general exhaustion - am in the office on sunday - which i think will right itself once college starts again and i stop working. ok so it has started already i just haven't been yet alright?!) when prodded they prove about as helpful as four shrivelled potatoes lining your window sill. (which, in case the simile is too complicated for you, is NOT AT ALL).
However, it is the other sub species that really hold our interest, with their unlimited ability to see empty spaces in the bus that could be filled by even more human bodies (yeah of course the crook of my elbow is space wasted unless the third tyre of somone else's belly can rest there. and what better place to put my nose than in that sweaty man's hairy underarm, may i really?), their profound capacity for continous meaningless yelling, and their propensity for doing their job so well that you never quite get to exactly where you need to go, because of course it was silly of you to want to go there to begin with. Overflowing with the milk of human kindness, they will stop at a bus stop for as long as it takes to make sure that they leave no one behind, not even the ones who will get there next year, regardless of the inconvenience caused themselves throught the thoughtless and inconsiderate heckling of the complaining passengers already on the bus. They are the new messiahs, the modern shepherds, the desi cowboy, the new age guru, fast replacing the politician as the least influential but most deadly species on the sub continent.
This nexus of extremely powerful men control your lives, making decisions for you that could make or break you forever. Like cattle they herd a blissfull unwary busfull of passengers around according to their own deep dark devious plans, modifying routes and rates with the mere flick of a hand to suit their purposes.
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