Strangers, Stories, and a Seat by the Window.
My tiny little world on a Wednesday bus ride.
It’s Wednesday, and that means I need to go to the office for work. Originally and by contract, my work setup should be permanently work-from-home, but the company now requires us to be on-site at least once a week.
At first, I found it frustrating because:
I can do my responsibilities remotely just fine (better, even).
It’s a two-hour commute from home (4 hours on the road).
Transportation is expensive (I ride six different modes of transportation in total. Six!).
It’s physically draining. By the time I get home, I don’t even have the energy to do things I actually care about.
And the list goes on, but let’s not spiral down that rabbit hole.
Ever since I started my professional life, I’ve been used to working from home. And honestly, it’s hard to let go of the perks that come with it; the freedom, the comfort, the money saved from daily commutes, the sheer fact that I don’t have to squeeze myself into packed vehicles or endure the chaos of the outside world before and after work.
But after a few weeks, surprisingly, I’ve come to love it. It reminds me how I actually loved doing this before. The long bus ride? It calms me down. It’s physically draining but that’s the only time I can reflect with no pressure.
I think I should be thankful even because I get to watch the world by the window seat. These people, we’re riding the same bus but we’re headed for different destinations.
Everyone here has a life just as intricate and complicated as mine. Some are heading to work, some to school, others maybe to a place they don’t want to be, or a place they’ve longed to go. We don’t talk. We don’t need to. At least for this one moment, we share the same space, moving forward together before parting ways.
Do you know what else I love my life in a bus ride? I hope I don’t sound like a creep but I love to observe my fellow passengers. Who are they talking to on their phone? What are they watching? Does anyone here have the same thoughts as I am.
There’s a woman scrolling through her messages, typing, deleting, retyping like she’s crafting the perfect response. A student, head tilted, dozing off, his bag clutched tightly to his chest. A man in a suit, staring blankly ahead, lost in thoughts I’ll never know.
None of us will remember each other when we step off the bus.
I’m really having all these thoughts while my knees barely fit between the seats. The space is cramped, the ride is long, and I am lost in my own little world, my mind wandering further than the bus ever could.
And as I sit here, watching the city unfold through the window, the city moves in a blur; cars honking, people rushing, storefronts opening for the day.
.Inside, it’s a different kind of motion. Slow, steady, rhythmic. The hum of the engine, the occasional chatter, the faint sound of someone’s music playing through their earphones. It’s a world of its own, one I get to be part of for a while.
I realize I don’t mind this routine as much anymore.