Our life is really like a public bus. We start off from the terminal with people that were already there. Some people set off with a bus-ful of different kinds of people, some start off all lonely and empty, but we as the bus drivers, drive on. Along the way, people board the bus of our lives, and people get off, too. Some passengers are on the bus for a longer period of time, traveling across a longer distance, but some stay briefly. Some could just be another quiet passenger that sits at the back of the bus, they could be there for really long, but attract no attention at all. They just sit there quietly, faithfully, waiting patiently for the right time to alight. They are like these quiet guardian angels that we often neglect, but are always there. When the bus gets empty, they remind you that you are not driving down the road alone, giving you silent comforts. When the bus gets too packed, they humbly blend into the shadows of the crowd.
There are passengers that come up as a big group. They make a lot of noise, it could even be exciting sometimes. But sooner or later, they leave, and most of the time they don’t remember a thing about you, even when you remember every single small joke that happened over the course of the journey.
Sometimes, when you’re lucky, you get passengers that give you big, friendly grins the moment they board the bus. They shed this warm, daisies-smelling sunlight unto you. It could be brief, but it makes your day. They might not remember what they did, but you will always keep that smile in your heart, because it means that much.
Some buses have longer routes, and some have shorter ones. You don’t get to decide, though. It was all planned out, by God, they say. You follow. The only way to reach the terminal safe and sound and not get yourself into trouble, is to follow. You could get bored midway, or even tired. Sometimes you think about giving up, sometimes you ask yourself why. But the only thing there is to do, is to drive on. Some people try to speed, as if getting to the terminal faster means that they are doing their job better, when in fact, they are just messing with the planned time interval of bus arrival.
Along the route, accidents happen sometimes. Just as there are ups and downs in life, there are times when you are just so unfortunate to be surrounded by amateur drivers that are not so sure about their engine or the directions, or both. They clog up the traffic, disrupt the flow. You get annoyed, but because of how huge you are, and how much weight you are carrying, there’s nothing much that you can do. You could get really frustrated about the kind of responsibilities in life that you carry, and you ask God why didn’t he just make you a motorcyclist instead, but you know He has His reasons. The accidents could lag you behind, and make you feel like a failure, but fear not, your passengers are still faithfully waiting at the bus stop. Those that flagged cabs instead are probably not worth adding on to the weight you are carrying anyway.
Often you see hotties at the bus stop, but they never seem to be boarding your bus. You wonder if your bus is too old for them, or too filthy, maybe faulty air-conditioning, you’re not sure. Well, have you ever wondered that they could be boarding the wrong bus? Or maybe you have a better one waiting ahead, you never know. Sometimes, the grossest looking people board your bus when you were just fervently praying that they were hailing for the bus behind you. You roll your eyes, and ask yourself why is life so unfair. You know what, better appreciate these that are putting trust in you than longing after those chasing after someone else, it’s more worth it this way. Judge not a book by it’s cover, the surprise divine enlightenment could just be a couple of pages away.
Sooner or later, before you know it, you come to the terminal that you’ve been driving towards all your life, the one that whoever that sent you out told you that you would end up at. After all these while, you are here. You breathe in the smell of deaths and newborns, ends and beginnings. You sigh a long sigh. People, some half-asleep, take their exits. And you drive to the designated parking, and then you get out of the seat that you’ve probably been longing to get out of, with the tiniest sense of reluctance germinating in you. You take one last look at the seat, feeling the warmth that you left, you wonder how long will your mark remain. Then you grab your water bottle, close the door behind you, and light up the cigarette that you’ve been thirsting for. You take in that choky first puff that marks the end, watching the passengers scuttling around the terminal, boarding lives of newborn buses with their freshly assigned routes. You look at the bus drivers with their clean, white, ironed uniform, you think, “Oh, I almost forgot how it was like.”