7.30 a.m. Monday morning. Balance, Berthaud Avenue, Quatre-Bornes. I?m waiting as usual for the express Cathedral bus. Thankful to the National Transport Corporation for providing Berthaud residents who work in Port-Louis on Pope Hennessy Street with a Cathedral bus. They are compassionate. They think well of passengers? welfare who do not need to walk almost a mile to reach their offices sweating and panting every morning. Before, all express buses to Port Louis dropped their passengers at Victoria station. Just now a bus is standing in front of me urging me to get in sending the same message to fellow passengers in the queue.

I get in still thinking about the goodness of those bosses in Vacoas as I take a seat. Suddenly, I feel the cold. I?m in an air-conditioned bus. The ticket collector is beside me. He asks me for an extra three rupees. I don?t want to give it to him. In fact why should I? But then, I relent. I cannot make a fuss. I feel trapped. All the way to Port-Louis, I feel irritated. My boss won?t give me an additional three rupees for my travelling at the end of the month.

Cannot move right or left

I haven?t asked NTC for a blue line bus, with extra comfort. The Vacoas bosses have imposed it on me. They know I have no choice. I cannot miss the 7.30 a.m bus or else I?ll be late and my boss will scold me. I?m sure fellow passengers in the blue line bus are thinking alike.

Same day, same time. My neighbour, Mrs Valery, is happy. She won?t be late for work. She gets on the Cathedral bus at Ti Vegas bus stand in Quatre-Bornes. No free seat. She holds the metal bar. But then she realises that because of her plumpness she cannot move right or left. The bus bosses have devised this five-seated bus to have maximum passengers and make more money. The ones who experience the discomfort are standing. When Mrs Valery moves her elbow, the passenger sitting on her right scowls at her because her elbow has slightly touched her cheek. Her handbag is rubbing the head of the passenger on her left who also glares at her. Poor Mrs Valery. She is helpless. What can she do to overcome her discomfort and erase the tension on her right and left? How she wishes the two frowning passengers would be in her shoes one day!

Well, the Vacoas bosses are foxes disguised as sheep!

Some hours later. Mrs Clean-at-Home is sitting next to me. The bus is moving at a comfortable speed. The sky is lovely with that soft blueness and the breeze is pleasant. My work tension is disappearing. Soon I?ll be home. The noise from Mrs Clean-at-Home disturbs me. I turn round tactfully. She has just finished eating half a pineapple with crushed chilies and salt. Then she turns the soiled plastic bag with the pineapple tail in a bundle and throws it down. I become tense again. I stare at Mrs Clean-at-Home. I suppose there must be hundreds of Mrs Clean-at-Homes in Mauritius.

Brinda RUNGHSAWMEE