Today  I was nearly thrown off a bus. Turning a full circle where overpass construction forces bussed to swing round across lanes in peak hour back from the direction they travelled, hitting a drop in on the road side the bus lurched and standing by an open door only a terrified grip held be as my body flew sideways.

Don’t get me wrong. Not all Indian buses are packed as you see in comical scenes from movies, although hanging from doorways is not uncommon. The municipal companies will make people wait for the next transport, but may a smaller bus hang out the door.

I once – and I am not joking – saw a man laying  on a car bonnet hanging on the windscreen wipers at full speed.

Somewhat less eventful, after a foiled attempt at an internet cafe- the phone is not reinstalled  since moving house, come on BSNL its been a week!

I jump on the bus, forced to wait by a car driving on the wrong side, into a hospital in front of the bus stop – pull myself on and have to stand on the step of the bus trying to negotiate as the closing door tries to wipe my backpack off me.

Returning the crush in the bus arches my torso over the top of an old man. poor . Hanging from straps, I am unable to solidly ground my feet. Tip toe on corners I try not to swing, as my backpack collects the old gentleman.

I cast pleading eyes of forgiveness. After about the third time  he looks up palms together, thumbs to his heart in prayer.