Not cut out for Love

A bus ride to remember

26 September 2016

"Man, I can't believe I am in University now." I thought to myself as my mother bought us tickets to get on the bus. "I can do whatever I want, whenever I want without this crazy woman daunting me each time i breathe and bother her with my existence." I rolled my eyes at the thought as I faced a pale blue bus filled with passengers going from Coventry City Centre to Warwick University. The seats were black and had some sort of a zigzagged pattern of yellow lines. Not all of them were taken and I was looking for a place to sit on the lower deck when my mother called out with that whistle that she always does, rolling her eyes to follow her to the upper deck. "Its amazing how she gets what she always wants without saying a word" I thought as I attempted to climb up the stairs whilst the bus begun moving. 

Looking back at me from one of the two seats, my mother motioned that I seat myself next to her by tapping her hand twice on the seat to her right. I scurried towards her and finally sat down on the pale blue 'National Express'. 

"They have weird red buses in London that don't work without an Oyster card. The National Express is so much more convenient as you can pay when you want to get on the bus or get a weekly, monthly or yearly pass" I said to my mother as a form of making conversation and trying to educate myself about the country or narrowly speaking, the area I would be living 3 years of my life. "Yeah, you should get bus pass for sure, but I don't want you taking advantage of the pass and going here and there alone, to unsafe places, during the night, or to places where there is alcohol where there are drunk men or where there are too many people you don't know or where there are drugs..." My brown mother spoke. The list of what I shouldn't do with my bus pass was endless and it went on for ages. My attention diverted from my mothers words of caution (which I truly needed) but not what my 19 year old brain wanted, to the lush scenery that was playing outside. The dark green trees seemed to sway as the bus sped with full force, the road seemed longer and narrower with nature engulfing it from both sides. My gaze wouldn't reject the stunning forest that ran beside me. 'Green', 'dark', 'thick', 'woody' and 'deep' were the words that strike if I were to describe the the woods beside me. 

My fascination with the woods hadn't died just yet. My eyes took every possibility to look at something you don't really see in the big, overly populated city of Lahore in Pakistan. It was different. Good, different. "Man, it's been so long since I kissed a boy. How romantic would it be to be kissed on the lips in the woods, just how they do in the movies! Or in the shitty Danielle Steele novels that I read!" My head spun with euphoria at the thought of being kissed in the woods, in a new city where I was starting out fresh. Where no one knew me, knew what I had been through. None of it mattered, I could finally be what I wanted to be. Away from home, away from any form of expectations, restrictions or stress. "This is my home now." I thought to myself. "And I better make it worth the while."

My attention withdrew from the scenery outside and refocused on my mother who was still giving her revolutionary speech about what I shouldn't do with a goddam bus pass and why I should stay away from boys (which I should have followed, but oh well, shit happens). "Definitely" I said agreeably, even though I grasped nothing of what she had said the past few minutes.

The scenery changed. It showed the homes of the well off folk of Coventry. With long driveways and green gardens and a lovely home in a comfortably sized plot. The homes lined up one after another, left and right; each with its own character and possibly a story: A loving family, a murder, a house that never became a home, a house with many children, a house without children, a house with old people, perhaps a sanatorium, a bed and breakfast. My mind was open to so many possibilities and the list was endless as were the thoughts.

We approached a board that said 'University of Warwick', in white against a grey background facing a sort of multi coloured building that I, now, after getting to know from my cousin is Warwick's medical school. We drove past that and entered a bus stop that opened up to a Piazza where University students and senior volunteers were standing welcoming students and guiding them to the dorms they were allocated to. My mother was all senses at this point, examining the University from the massive bus window in front of her.

"Here is my daughters University! Its so nice" She said as she saw how busy the Piazza was swarming with students and nervous parents alike.

"It's time to get off and see what we're in for." Were my exact words, painted with confidence, yet nervous in nature. We got off the bus and admitted ourselves into the chaos and pretentiousness that prevailed outside.