The conductor traverses across the length of the bus looking at his either side while feverishly clicking away his clipper to gain attention. “Ticket Ticket” he screams. “Banni, illi ticket?” he asks. I wave out to him and mouth “ITPL” from a distance. He hands out a receipt to me and grabs the 50 rupee note from my hand. I try to tell him that he ought to return 3 rupees to me. My cries fall on deaf ears. I tear the ticket in retaliation and toss it out of the window. “Excuse me?” I hear someone faintly call out to me. “You, mister! Yes, you!” she reaches out and taps on my shoulder. I unplug my earphones to understand the matter. Blown away by her beauty, I make an effort to comprehend her words. Her mouth moves in slow motion in my imagination. She seems agitated, I can tell from the frown between her eyebrows. “Click!” She snaps her fingers to regain my attention. “How can you be so irresponsible?” She asks. I shrug, not being able to understand the context. She rolls her eyes and ...