A day out with my mom to the hustle-bustle town of Lower Dharamsala turned out to be a well-spent Sunday but indeed a scary one! To the place of loud beeps of vehicles, people bustling hither-thither, we headed from Forsyth Ganj; a small multi-cultured village, halfway to McLoed Ganj; the Little Lhasa in exile. On the horns of delimma of choosing between the crowded jeeps and the buses, we settled our decision to take the bus ride down to the town. I would say, I'm thankful, I'm alive. Are you wondering why?
The winding roads of Dharamsala is just too scary to ride bikes and drive cars. But atleast that would be much better than riding an overloaded bus! The bus driver and the conductor, is sorry-not-sorry to the passengers in the bus, and I'm not getting whether they are favouring the people waiting for buses on the way, or they are in thirst for making more money. They kept on welcoming more passengers and left us worrying, when the bus would tumble down the steep. With each new passenger boarding the bus, my heart skipped a beat with anxiety. The road is full of twists and turns. I was not the only one who is worried, so is my mom! But to my queer suprise, the other passengers were so calm and not bothered how many more are boarding the bus. Adding to the surprise in seeing the 'not-afraid' reactions from the other passengers, the bus conductor to whom, me and my mom kept nagging about the over-loaded bus, he was trying to convince us that it is going to be a safe ride and told us not to worry. May be they are used to the appalling ride! We never was convinced until we reached the town safe and sound despite the horrid ride.
Never will I forget this sickening 8km bus ride!
Never will I forget this sickening 8km bus ride!
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