Sitting at a bus stop is the most interesting thing that I can do in Hyderabad. I learn so much from just sitting and watching people pass by.
I like to think of it as a bit like watching television; I sit on the couch or in this case the bench and flick through the channels. You get a brief moment to glimpse into somebody else’s world, and sometimes the privacy of their thoughts.
However amusing it may sound, I always check to see if people are wearing their seatbelts and if they’re on bikes (which a majority of them are) if they’re wearing a helmet. Most of the time neither is present and the driver is lost in their own world of getting to their destination on time.
Nonetheless I really do like seeing people completely being themselves, everyone acts a particular way when they are alone and think nobody is watching. You have the brave man who tries to take a quick dig at his nose, or the entrepreneur yelling at his phone while trying to change gears and steer, all at the same time, and you have the woman trying to fix up her hair and doing last minute touch ups of make up while keeping one eye on the road.
Yet there are those that seem to be sitting on the couch and I seem to be their favourite channel as they gawk and turn in their seats to star. However I take this opportunity to yell at them to continue driving, perhaps they realize that keeping their eyes on the road is more important because they always take my advice.
Sitting at a bus stop has taught me to realize that whatever prejudices or ideas I had about Indians based on a few experiences can never be right. People are people, no matter where you go in the world.
Sitting at a bus stop has reminded me of home.