I am a terrible traveler when it comes to a night travel in the bus. I cannot sleep sitting uptight in the bus. And I cannot not sleep too. I have to sleep. But sleeping is such a pain when the roads are full of potholes and speed brakers. I toss to the window, turn to the side but eventually nothing helps. Its an unavoidably painful time which has to pass. Not just for me, but also for the person sitting next to me.
Tonight, he is with me. I rest my head on his shoulder for some time. But unable to find my comfort, I turn to rest my head on the side window. But the moving bus with the bumps of the road soon make me shift to his side again. This time more recklessly. He’s as always giving. Very gentle and very caring. He pats my head with his hand while I sleep on his shoulder. I like it for a while and drift to a hazy lucid dream. I see inconspicuous objects and people and places and go through irrelevant conversations all cropped in my exhausted mind. Meaningless banter in my head and physically irritating postures go on for the better part of the night. He shifts to my comfort as much as he can. At last though I dive my head in his lap and fold my legs up into the chair and stuff myself to sleep on him. He smiles and pats my head to sleep. I sleep a little huskily for some time.
After the small halt for midnight tea, we get back into the bus. I’m feeling less sleepy now. I sit up in the AC bus and he puts a blanket over us. He puts one of his earplug in my ear and plays his country songs. I gaze outside the window for a long time. Images of past and future fill my mind and those road-trip-thoughts keep coming. The music heals my bones and lifts my spirits. It’s gradually turned into a beautiful bus journey. More so because I’m again resting my head on his shoulder and he’s slipped his warm hand in my hand beneath the blanket…oh so lovingly.