Little Drummer Boy; A Bus Rant

 (this was typed and meant to be posted yesterday. But blogspot decided to not work)

After three weeks of no work at all, I went back to office happy and dying to write something, cover any press conference. And a press conference I did get, where I was lucky enough to listen to Dr Lester James Peiris, his wife and a few others, talk about Nidhanaya. The movie was recently restored and screened in Venice. Sadly, I missed my staff transportation and was not given an option of arranging transport from work. So I bit it and bused it.

My mother, worried about the late hour told me to get into an outstation AC bus. After some waiting, a bus arrived. No seats, but something’s better than nothing, right? By Bambalapitya, a few minutes into the bus ride, both my arms were aching thanks to a bad standing position and a very heavy bag. The boy sitting right next to me, he was maybe thirteen, had just downed a chunk of butter cake and some water. I was dying for the latter. His father, seated behind him, had the boy’s bag on his lap. Selfish boy, I thought. It is expected that the seated passengers offer to hold on to the bags of the standing passengers.


Forty minutes into the bus ride, a seat emptied and I finally had a place to sit... Next to the selfish butter cake eating brat. A few minutes later he started drumming his hands on his thighs, in tune to the loudly playing bus songs. They were all slow songs, and the previously quiet little boy was inspired to try out his drumming skills during a very slow version of 'tuition panthiye' a popular bus song. As each song ended, I had some hope the boy would be tired, but no way! Why give me some peace and quiet?



After so many minutes of drumming he was starting to sweat and the sharp smell of sweat cut through the air. I was ready for the end of the journey by then, already looking forward to my next holiday.



Let me tell you this, when people tell you journalism is a tiring and stressful yet, exciting job, they mean it. But I doubt they consider bus rides that last more than an hour, thanks to office time traffic, where you are forced to listen to an entire concert CD of the band ‘all right’, part of the adventure.


A few minutes later…

To my relief, the boy decided he had had enough of the drumming when a song called 'obatamai mang adarey' started playing.

A few more minutes later…

I jinxed it. As soon as I typed the previous paragraph, he started drumming again. Mostly with his fingers, but that didn’t stop the terrible smell of sweat. Also to make matters worse for me, throughout the bus trip, even when it was really dark outside, he kept wearing a cap.

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