On Trolls and travelers

It is 6.50 am and the bleary eyed employees board the company bus one by one in a manner that would befit the robots in a factory. The routine is not something that they enjoy since it involves multiple levels of discomfort. The driver, unmindful of the impact of drudgeries of work on these poor souls, takes perverse pleasure in shaking and waking them to face the sad reality.

The bus moves forward in the manner of a patient whose knee jerk reactions have been tested over and over again. The rattling windows, which have had repeat extensions from retirement, ensure the employees have to carry cotton plugs to keep their hearing capabilities intact. After the multiple stops, the employees hope the speed of travel would increase from the current crawling style. To their dismay, it does, with devastating effects.
The driver honks till the next city can hear him coming and is immediately greeted by thousands of other reciprocating honk addicts. Suddenly, there is a rush of dreadrinaline (the monster equivalent of human adrenaline) in him and he decides his travelers need a dose of suicidal driving. The details of this activity are unnecessary and painful hence, can be summed up as an act that was superbly executed.

Meanwhile our poor employees are trying to sleep and habit enables them to manage it pretty well too. The driver is not going to accept defeat so soon though. Instantly the speakers crackle with cacophonic noises that currently pass off as music. The cackle of radio jockeys makes one's skin crawl and tear apart any defenses that were built in the process of evolution of man to zombie. There are squirms, tired glares and ‘tchtches’ aimed towards the driver who, of course, can neither see nor hear and cares even less.

It indeed, is a bleak situation and one of the Harassed Employees (identified as HE) plans to come back to life and do something about this. So, HE moves ass to reach the driver's seat and requests him to switch off the radio. All HE gets is a stare from the puny monster who continues with his driving. Another act of begging masked as a request towards reducing the volume too gets squashed.
Sudden enlightenment occurs and Harassed Employee decides to call the manager Incharge Transportation (IT). What occurs between them is an encounter that might not happen in the next five hundred years thanks to further evolution of Homo sapiens towards the new species zombo tnutus.
(HE - Harassed Employee, IT - Incharge Transportation)

HE: Hello? Hello? John Peter?

IT: (terribly irritated at having to wake up at 7 am and listening to some alien voice) Speaking! ... Who is this??

HE: John, this is _____________ I am on the way to office now, I am in the bus numbered TP1

IT: So?

HE: See, we have a problem... (The rest of the sentence is completely drowned by the honks and screeches of the bus tyres)

HE: Hello? Hello? (The line has been dead for quite a while)

HE (muttering to himself): Bugger!! sleeping happily while we are getting tossed around here.. (tries calling him again, thankfully gets through the call)

HE: Hello? Sorry the line got cut

IT: No I cut it. What nonsense background noise was that?

HE: Oh that? That was driver Ponnappa trying to take us to heaven. Apparently he got a bulk order this time. See, we have a problem, there is already lot of noise on the road and in the bus, and we can’t sleep.

IT: Then finish your sleep in the office (chuckles at his own 'joke')

HE: Yeah, but we need to reach there first. The reason for calling is, the driver is refusing to... (Again, there is lot of noise of gurgling, cooing and screeching noise - all at the same time, of a decibel level that is guaranteed to provide customer delight in deafness)

HE: (Afraid that he might lose the attention of the troll on the other end, quickly shouts) Hello? Hello? U there?

IT: Stop screaming into my ear! I am very much here... Why are you calling me at this time? Could you not call me once u reached office? (out of habit, says) I am busy, I have lots work

HE: (Surprised) Work? At home? Are you giving driving lessons to your folks? (Hurriedly) Anyways, we can’t sleep coz there is some banshee in the radio howling its head off every now and then...

IT: Then ask the bloody driver to switch it off. You calling me just to tell this?

HE: Well, I called to inform we have a medical emergency - Ponnappa seems to have been affected with a sudden bout of brain degeneration. He does not recognize human voice. When I spoke to him, it just bounced off his head... Also, he seems to have had an attack of temporary and selective blindness - he could see the road but not me.

IT: Oh God! Tell him I told so... (slams the phone down)

HE: (mutters to himself) Ok, I have tried my best and this is great! I love the noise, I love the banshee and I love the monster and his troll master.

HE goes back to renew his sleeping efforts.

Home

'Home' actually was part of an apartment building with few trees in the surrounding. The trees were a bonus. She had not expected even a foot width of space between the building and the compound wall. It made all the difference to the ambience.

The house was in the first floor. A small living room leading to an open kitchen, on the other end was a balcony that was surprisingly quite large. There were two bedrooms, each moderately spacious and a small study.
She squealed with delight when she saw the study. She had always wanted a study - it was her secret ambition to have a separate study that also posed as a library and made her feel like a real, serious writer. She could already imagine rows of books in the bookshelves, a writing table and a straight backed chair to help her maintain the right posture. She also wanted to add a reclining chair that would be epitome of comfort while reading her favorite books.
Pulling herself away from those wonderful warm thoughts, she moved about the house, shaking her head in wonder and grinning all the way. The bed rooms had large windows allowing enough light and air. She was really surprised at the ingenuity of the architect to manage all these vital factors despite the minimum area that was available.
The kitchen was a pure delight - an open space that made one feel as though they were not confined to the mundane task of cooking. She knew she would come to love the process of cooking eventually thanks to the space that would set her free.
Walking towards the balcony, she imagined potted plants set skillfully in the balcony that would make her feel good about... well, everything...

Sigh! This is exactly how I want to feel - she thought, as she walked past the half constructed building that looked few light years away from her dream.

Pain pangs

Tears flowed freely from her eyes. It was as if some geyser in the depths of her soul was always ready to spring with the slightest provocation. And provocation it would be - every word he said was like a seismic shock wave that rocked her rather fragile will and drowned her in sorrow. Only later she was to realize that this sorrow, always defined by those outbursts of bitterness, was momentary and would disappear like morning dew with one kind gesture from him.