Stepped into a bus of my destination.
Bought a ticket
And made my way to the vacant seat
Next to a young woman by the window
Her skin taut, her beautiful locks playing with the wind
Her nail polished fingers taming them every now and then
Fascinated I watched her, not a beauty
But beauty of youth surrounded her.
Tried to strike a conversation
I asked her a question
She patiently unplugged her earphones
And impatiently answered my query
And replaced them in my face!
I got her message of MYOB (mind your own business) loud and clear!
A couple of stops later
An old woman made her way
And heaved herself down next to me
I turned my attention to her.
Must’ve been a beauty in her younger days.
Was now fidgety, slow, with criss cross lines across her face
With ear studs in the wobbly lobes of hers
Tired and delicate her bones jabbing me
Garrulously she opened her box of complaints
As if she knew me since Adam!
I stifled a yawn, willing her to stop.
Middle age was sandwiched between the young and old
I watched one of me gone in the young woman
I listened to one of me to come by.
I shuddered and was despondent
Just for a wee while!
Then a whole lot of philosophy flashed on the lines…
Now is the moment…etc
I opined to myself, yesterday and today are structured on
What I do with the present moment…
And with that thought
I merrily hummed a tune to myself…
Que serra serra…