Extending my stay in Jaipur, India, meant rearranging my travel plans to catch an early flight to Nepal from the New Delhi airport. With limited affordable options available, I booked a 6 am flight and reserved an 8 pm bus ticket from Jaipur to Delhi, aiming to reach the airport in time for the flight’s departure. I opted for the Hauz Khas stop in Delhi, a familiar point from my previous travels, which seemed like the logical choice, given its proximity to the airport.
Predictably, I received a message alerting me to a one-hour delay in the bus schedule which set off a chain of events that would test my resolve. I was already battling fatigue and the onset of a sore throat from a sickness that had crept up on me earlier that day. Upon arriving at the station, I faced the daunting task of locating my bus amidst the chaos of the MASSIVE terminal. I embarked on a frantic search, determined not to miss my flight. After a 20-minute quest of asking for directions to the bus company at least 8 times, I finally located my bus just before it left. I told the driver I was going to the airport and then navigated to the narrow aisles.
I noticed that my designated seat was a double bed. In India, sleeper buses often feature two types of berths: single beds and larger double beds usually shared by passengers of the same gender. Though I distinctly recalled booking a single bed, circumstances seemed to have shifted last minute, and I was assigned to a double bed which was already partially occupied—by a man. Considering I had already arrived late to the bus and I was too tired and unwell to contest the situation, I opted to settle into a vacant single bed, silently hoping it would remain unoccupied for the duration of the journey.
My nap was short-lived, as I was roused from my sleep 2 hours later by a gentle tap from a young man, likely in his mid-twenties, indicating that I was in his assigned seat. The intervention of the driver’s assistant helped resolve the confusion, as it became apparent that the system had mistakenly assigned me to the same double bed as the other men. After looking in his records, the driver’s assistant found my correct seat, a single bed at the front of the bus. Expressing my regret to the gentleman whose berth I had taken, I was met with his understanding and help as I moved my belongings.
Hours later, my alarm jolted me awake. Still groggy from my nap, I consulted Google Maps to pinpoint our location, only to be swiftly ushered off the bus by the driver’s assistant, shouting, “Airport, Airport!” Trusting his guidance, albeit puzzled by our remote location, I climbed down into the darkness.
So there I was standing on the expressway in the outskirts of Gurugram, at 3 am, contemplating my next move, acutely aware of the 30 minutes still separating me from my intended destination. I decided to call an Uber, hoping that one would show up quickly. I looked up and noticed that the only other traveler the was dropped off at that stop was the same kind guy whose bed I had occupied on the bus. I meekly moved towards him.
“I think they dropped me off and the wrong spot. I’m trying to go to the Delhi airport.”
He reassured me that he was also headed to a flight, explaining that our current location was a customary stop for travelers bound for Delhi airport. Offering to share his Uber, he suggested I cancel mine. As we waited for his ride to arrive, we engaged in conversation, exchanging stories about my India trip and his hometown of Kolkata where he was returning. Time seemed to fly as we shared anecdotes, transforming what had begun as a stressful ordeal into a moment of unexpected friendship
When we arrived at the airport, I attempted to contribute towards the fare, only to be met with his insistence that he had already paid. Gratefully accepting his generosity, we parted ways, and I kept my saved rupees as a souvenir, a tangible reminder of the kindness that had culminated my exciting six weeks in India, eagerly anticipating the new experiences awaiting me in Nepal.
